Life is happening at such a fast rate that sometimes I can hardly catch my breath. Anyone who's seen or spoken with me over the past couple of weeks or so will certainly have been muttering to themselves. I've heard it myself "hmmm... do you think she's alright? She seems very happy, which is great - but she's... well.... a bit hyper. Odd. Ditsy. Somewhat all over the place don't you think?" Well, at least I think I've heard people whispering these things... but perhaps it's just been inside my own head. Which, perhaps, is even more worrying.
You see, so much has been happening, and it all seems to be so fast. The business is alive and kicking and bringing in the most amazing bunch of clients - fantastic brands, inspiring people, and fascinating projects. All supported by the most outstanding team of Top Bananas I could ever hope to have on board - and with more wanting to join all the time! I finally have a clear route for dealing with all the financial and matrimonial difficulties that only a few short months ago were threatening to overwhelm me. I am happy. Yes... I am HAPPY! Every morning I now wake up with a smile on my face, feeling safe, secure, loved, supported and excited about the days months and years ahead of me.
It's a seismic shift. And the process, as you know, has been awe-inspiring, suffocating, crushing, explosive, exhausting, exhilarating, humbling, life-threatening... and so many other things as well (hmm... I feel a book coming on here...) and it now feels as though I'm finally getting used to living as a much 'bigger' version of myself. The same as I was before, but more as well if that makes any sense. Sometimes it's like rattling around inside a huge new body - instant images of Edward Woodward in The Wicker Man just popped in to my head but that's not quite right because that movie scared the living daylights out of me! Other times it's the opposite. It's like I'm squashed inside a smaller membrane - I can move and twist and turn, but still something's got to snap to let me out. And yet still other times it's like I'm floating - and grounded at the same time. I'm connected and alive. I can see hear and feel everything more vividly than I can ever remember before. I'm living in the moment, and also aware of a bond with everything and everyone else that is and that has been.
I acknowledge that I've perhaps always been a bit 'odd' in the way I think (my mother's friend Carol would refer to me as "Flick-brain" when I was a very small child because I'd dart from one subject to another and still keep the flow of conversation tied together) it's just that now it's no longer 'wrong'. Now it seems absolutely 'right' and perfectly normal. Because it's helped me to get where I am today. I've survived. And now I'm thriving - but goodness me it takes a bit of getting used to!
I keep receiving compliments at the moment. And thanks as well. From people I've known for ever, as well as people I've recently met. And I continue to be surprised and flustered. Because I didn't know that I was 'like that' or 'capable of this' or 'worthy of the other'. And I'm also aware that I'm becoming a bit of a scratched record on the subject - which could now begin to irritate some people. Let me give you an example.
A few days ago, my friend Mary Turner Thomson (best-selling author of The Bigamist) gave me her honest opinion about my writing - and I was absolutely blown away. With disbelief in my head, tears in my eyes, and my heart bursting with excitement and gratitude, I burbled on to a couple of very close friends about what she'd said. I'm not sure what I was expecting, but one (Matt - of course!) simply commented "Well I don't know why you're so surprised. We've all been saying the same thing for ages!"
So is this how we learn our lessons - both good and bad? We may hear, see and feel the lessons from people around us, but it's not until a huge 'thwack' of proof smacks us between the eyes that we finally take it on board. The lessons, the evidence, the TRUTH has been there all along, but either we're blind or we just choose to ignore it? That's how, I'm sure, I can now totally accept responsibility for (and find peace with) what has happened to me over the past year or so - in fact, for ever. Because the truth was there to be found. I just didn't look in the right places, or didn't react when my inner voices cried out for help. Either because I couldn't, or because I wouldn't - no matter. I can't change what has happened so there's no point in regrets. But I now know that I can shape my future.
And at the moment I'm in the delightful position of learning about all the good stuff! All the freedom, peace and joy about life that I hadn't experienced before. Now I know that all I have to do is ALLOW myself to be happy. To BE authentic in everything that I do. To be OPEN to changes, possibilities, and miracles. Because you know what? I can't control how everything happens - I never could - but I CAN control how I choose to feel about them. Things past, present, and future. And by constantly choosing my feelings, then the outcomes happen for themselves - they unfold in front of my very eyes, exactly as is happening for me at the moment.
A close friend of my mother's used to tell me from a very young age that life's natural way of being is perfect whole and complete. And that if we let go and let be then we can live the life of our dreams. She asked me to imagine life as a tennis ball. Perfectly formed, perfectly round - until someone squashes it. She told me that it's our thoughts and behaviours that squash, restrict and distort our own acceptance of all the good that is natural in life. I did my best to understand, but I don't think I quite "got it". In fact, now I'm pretty sure that despite my best intentions I've actually lived a huge part of my life as a squashed, faded, moth-eaten tennis ball that's been chewed up, spat out and left in the undergrowth. And I now realise that in the process I had been feeling like the bird in Danny Kaye's song. The one with feathers all stubby and brown. Like him I was ashamed to show my face. Ashamed of what others might say.
But you know what? I'm not an ugly duckling any more. And more to the point, you know what else? I CAN hold my head noble and proud as I walk - yes, even though I still might walk in to the odd lamp-post or trip-up over the odd paving slab along the way, landing belly up and giggling in a heap on the floor. But hey, life's just like that sometimes ain't it?