Dance
The ancient Irish had a saying: ‚You don’t give a man a weapon until you’ve taught him how to dance.‘ In other words, a different kind of learning is required before someone can be truly trusted with social power and potent things like weapons. If a man does not know the wounds of his own soul, he can deny not just his own pain, but also be unmoved by the suffering of other people. More than that, he will tend to put his wound onto others. He may only be able to see the wound that secretly troubles him when he forcefully projects it into someone else, in forms of abuse or violence…
High & Dry?
My Victim Saboteur seizes its opportunity, first thing in the morning, when I wake up. `So this is it, this is how you will begin the rest of your days, alone and not mattering´, it whispers into my ear. The ability to identify and intercept that voice, accept, indeed embrace its existence, and recognise it for what it is, namely a phantom with a comprehensible nascency, is key to a sober start to the day…
Defenselessness
At home, there was no vocabulary for the realm of feelings. Doors were slammed, eyes were rolled, the air was constantly filled with emotional static, and, for the most part, the basic childhood needs of my generation went unmet, just as had been the case of many of the children, like my parents, who grew up during World War II…
AMDG
The smell of freshly waxed parquet floors intermingling with the culinary fragrances from the kitchens in the subterranean levels impressed etched itself on my memory, when I had occasion to visit the Jesuits’ offices and rooms on the far side of the incorporated church which divided school classrooms from living quarters…
Writing
Meaningful encouragement came in the form of an English teacher in secondary school of whom I was quite fond. The warmth was mutual, and this Jesuit priest gave me meaningful feedback on my essays during my somewhat turbulent teen years. To this day, I have some of the corrected manuscripts in my desk, these being the only school memorabilia in my possession. His encouragement left me with the conviction that real talent resided deep within me and could and would be brought to the surface, if sufficiently cultivated and expressed…
Summertime
This morning, my inner clock woke me at 4.30, in good time to meditate and have tea before heading out through the fields in an easterly direction, to meet the rising sun. I am fortunate to live in such semi-rural surroundings with broad horizons in all directions. The best days are those where I get to greet both the beginning and the end of the day. Dawn and dusk are my favourite times, to be enjoyed in the company of the birds, many of whom migrate back here from Africa for the summer months…
Certitude
Today it is a rambling, tranquil, wonderfully restored city of great natural beauty. My years spent there were the hectic years of establishing a career, starting a family, and taking up my place in the world. I had not much time in those days to sally through the quiet streets or cycle along the river to the neighbouring towns, but I did take every opportunity I got. A love affair had begun…
Re-membering
`Well, as far as I can see from what we have unearthed to date, one aspect of your survival strategy in the very early years was to leave your body and take up residence in the various quarters of the mind: Logic, imagination, daydreaming, intellectual endeavours, analysis, pattern recognition, and the like. It is very understandable why you would have chosen this path, considering your emotional sensitivity and proclivity for sensory overload in the highly charged environment of your childhood. Now the time has come, however, for you to gradually begin to re-enter your body. It will do you good and will be helpful for the process we have embarked upon here.´
Honesty
My severe lack of trust and incapacity for honesty rank among the gravest inevitable consequence of active addiction, especially when sustained over long periods of time. On waking up out of a blackout, for example, I often promised myself that I would `never do this again´, knowing full well, deep down inside, that it was only going to be a matter of time until the next one…
Bereavement
My mind went back to the final months of my Dad’s life in the summer and autumn of 1977. At sixteen, I was the oldest child at home and spent much of my time at his bedside, in conversation, reading to him, and attending to his needs. Over those months, though I did not realise it at the time, he was sharing a very precious gift with me in showing how we can embrace the end of our incarnation in gratitude and with both dignity and humility…
