When I’m feeling sorry for myself, I sometimes believe that nobody has ever loved me. Not even my parents.

My mind goes back to my childhood and I think of the times that mum and I clashed over some trivial thing.

Every Christmas morning she wanted my brother and I to go and give a gift to Mrs Bailey, the old lady who lived down the road. We hated going, we just wanted to play with our presents and enjoy ourselves. Standing on the doorstep of some lonely old woman holding out a box of carefully wrapped Milk Tray and waiting for her to say something like ‘oh, you shouldn’t have bothered”. Not on our list of enjoyable and exciting ways to spend 25th December.

I thought about it again today when I was wondering why I procrastinate.

We used to make excuses to try and get out of going to Mrs Bailey’s. “She doesn’t want the chocolates anyway Mum. She always tells us we shouldn’t have bothered”. Also we were both shy and found these social duties especially difficult.

So we’d spend as much time as we could playing with our toys and listening to Ed Stewart visiting the hospitals (or whatever was on the radio or TV at the time, it was so long ago I can’t find it on Google) in an attempt to put off the “walk of shame” down Park Close, to number 8.

Anyway I started off by thinking how this terrible task that mum had set us, was a way of ruining our Christmas just out of spite. And that it had had a lasting and damaging effect on me.

But is was also an act of kindness.

So as well as teaching us rightly or wrongly that the pleasure of Christmas had to be earned, by doing a good turn for a neighbour who possibly had no close relatives or friends, it also reminded us that the big day wasn’t just about us.

It taught us to be more empathetic.

And remembering and retelling the story in this way takes away some of the resentment.

It’s easy to remember stories of our childhood and still feel bad. But we are seeing things from a child’s point of view. Like when mum dropped us off at a “cowboy and indians” party where we knew no-one because it might make us “come out of our shells”. It didn’t. It was like dropping someone in a swimming pool to teach them to swim.

Actually I’ll always feel bad about that :).

But anyway, in most cases it can be helpful to look at the situation again from a more objective, adult perspective.

Because you might find that you are holding onto your past in ways that you were not aware of.

Don’t let negative memories of Christmas past, affect your present – see what I did there?

So yesterday I blogged about my shopping spree at an Egyptian emporium on Venice Beach in LA. That post is here.

And here are some of the things I bought.

These perfumes are gorgeous!

This is kitch, but I kinda like it. Look it’s David and Sally in nobody’s world whatsoever!

These guys represent health, wealth, love and something else I can’t remember. Not necessarily in that order.

And here’s the camel. Hmmm tacky, probably not real amber and if it is, there’s not just flies inside it….should’ve dusted before taking the photo!

There was an “amber” cat too which has been re-homed.

As I said, they are frivolities and I certainly didn’t need them. I allowed myself to be swept along by the friendly persuasiveness of the proprietor of the shop. Because my intuition seemed to be telling me it was ok to do that.

How did my intuition speak to me?

Good feelings in my body. No stomach cramps or tight feelings in my chest.

I was in a good mood, it was my birthday, the sun was shining, I hadn’t drunk anything intoxicating. It seemed ok to not let suspicion, lack of trust and fear that I didn’t have enough money hold me back.

In fact the salesman was telling me that these items would bring me luck, pleasure and good fortune. Why not trust him?

And the Universe (bank) butted in when it probably thought he was asking a bit too much, and limited the amount he could take from my card.

My mind then turned the incident into something a bit shameful. In fact it did that as soon as I got back to my accommodation.

It was as if I was telling myself that I didn’t deserve to be so well….devil may care.

Trusting that our lives are happening as they should be, and that we don’t need to fear not having enough, is a wonderful way to live. We feel, peaceful and happy.  We trust life and we trust ourselves.

I think that’s the best lesson I can learn from that day.

I guess it was a bit mad to spend last night on our narrow boat, with temperatures dipping below freezing, but we love it.

Once we stoke up the wood-burner we’re warm and cosy. And there’s a proper kitchen, comfy chairs and a table. And a three quarters of a double size bed that’s surprisingly comfortable and warm with lots of quilts and blankets.

The worst part is getting out of bed the next morning, when you can see your breath, and steam comes up from the portaloo when you pee out last night’s real ale.

It’s not everyone’s idea of fun.

A new friend in Hawaii, who I met through the coach training, was horrified at my willingness to rough it in a long tube on some stagnant looking water in freezing cold temperatures.

But this is the Grand Union Canal and I’ve lived beside it on and off, since I was 2 years old.

We all like to have a sense of community, whether it’s with family, work colleagues, people with similar interests and values, or in this case, people who I either met or reacquainted with when we moved back to the village where I grew up. The canal where our boat is moored runs through the village.

We’d been living in France for the previous 2 and a half years and had returned to look after my elderly father.

After living somewhere where we were foreigners and to our shame, hardly spoke the language, it was nice to be back among people I have a shared history with.

And I formed a new bond with these people by going to church with my dad, joining the choir and later when we talked dad into allowing a puppy into the house, dog walking. It felt good, especially as we don’t have children and my close family was diminishing.

Travel is great, but it’s nice to come home.

Now mum and dad are dead and my family connection with the village is at an end, it’s lovely to have Nutmeg the narrow boat to give a sense of continuity.

I thought I wanted to be by the sea, I even thought my spiritual home might be California, where I visited last year, but I’m starting to believe that my heart is by the “cut” as the canal is not so romantically known.

After many years of wishing I was anywhere but where I actually was, I’m finally learning to appreciate where I am right now and what’s right under my nose.

I’ve been doing some admin for a friend.

I really want to help her and it’s a massively worthwhile cause that she’s working on.

But my hands are itching to get on and do my own shit…..sorry, I mean to help people in my own unique way.

SO WHY HAVE I WAITED ALL THESE YEARS TO START THINKING OF WORK I LOVE AS MORE THAN AN EFFING HOBBY??

There are many answers to this question, but they are all based on fear.

And the fear will always be there in some form. It’s programmed into us.

But I’m starting to think that the urge to get on and EFFING WELL DO IT is getting stronger than the urge to carry on piddling about.

We’ll see.

Well in the spirit of not wanting to miss a day, I’ve decided to blog after drinking a very large gin and tonic.  And I mean large. And this after blathering on about having gone off alcohol in my introduction to this blog challenge.

I’ve decided that I’d rather post something and see it there in the morning, than realise that I’ve missed a day.

How do I feel at this moment? Well a bit giddy and fuzzy.

Pizzas in the oven. Got to go and check on them.

Just heard my husband David say to our little Jack Russell “it’s alright Gracie. Sally and I love you very much”. Yes, he’s had a few too. That makes me feel a bit tearful. Yes it’s true what they say about gin.

So I’ve finished the coaching course – did I mention that before? And I’m thoroughly enjoying doing Lotte’s blogging challenge. It’s getting me blogging again after being “on a break”.

And now I know it all.  “All the things” as Lotte might say. Ooh first world blogging worries – do I need to link to Lotte’s blog now? Well no, because you, my precious reader will probably get so caught up in reading her AWESOME blog posts that I won’t see you again. So google Lotte Lane later if you must 🙂

Anyway, I need to do my 20 paid hours and pay the certification fee and do the written work, and coach a coach mentor.  But apart from that I expected to know it all.

And did I mention that I thought self awareness would be oozing from every pore.

Errr no!

I coached someone the other day. Of course I was nervous, but it went quite well, and it wasn’t long before I was picking out some limiting beliefs to work on. Then he told me something upsetting his boss had said to him.  Well, I was incensed at the injustice of it all. How could this harridan treat a fellow human being like this. Judgemental, me? No.  Not after a 9 month coaching course and umpteen years of contemplating my navel.

Well yes actually.

Had I got a secret camera trained on my client’s place of work? No.

Was I taking into account all the circumstances surrounding this altercation? Well no. I only had the information that my client was willing to share with me at that moment, seen entirely from his perspective and through the cloudy lens of his world view, emotional state at the time etc, etc.

Have I been in a similar situation myself that might cloud my judgement a teensy bit? Well yes.

Every coaching session is a lesson learned for both coach and client.

We need to be honest with someone if we feel we’ve been in a blind spot whilst coaching them.

But from many hours of being coached myself I know for sure that being truly listened to is a gift.  And we are all way better at seeing where the other person is tripping up than they are themselves. Our biggest blind spot is in seeing ourselves objectively.

We are all human and our work won’t be done until we are sitting on a cloud in the sky strumming a harp. But hopefully there’ll be another little angel there to listen to your woes and overcome her own blind spots enough to help you get over yours.

So yesterday was the final class of my coach training. We’ve been told that the most important thing is to believe in ourselves.

It sounds easy and very motivating.

But is that really the most important thing?

After 50 odd years of not believing in myself, it’s difficult to change.

OK……

I’M A BELIEVER!  Let’s all sing the Monkees’ song, watch the video and pretend that we still don’t have to face reality. It’s a good job I did watch the video, because I’d spelt Monkees wrong. Everything happens for a reason, even serial procrastination.

Confession time.  I often see people doing well and earning shedloads of money and think “I could do that.  I could write like that”. But then I don’t try, because guess what? I’m scared it won’t be good enough.

As long as we are not trying, we can tell ourselves that we’ll do it “one day”.

What if that day never comes?

Please don’t do what I’ve done and spend 52 years being scared of being yourself.

I’ve had some wonderful and memorable experiences while not believing in myself.  I don’t regret any of them as I know they’ll be invaluable to draw on as I practice as a life coach.

But even though Martha Beck coaches are advised not to give advice, but to guide people towards finding their own right life, I’m going to break the rules already.

Believe now. I beg you.

It’s only 10pm.  I’m blogging an hour earlier than last night so things are improving.

Today was the final class of my Martha Beck coaching course.  A bittersweet time.  I’ll miss the feeling of safety I got from being a trainee coach, but have met some fabulous people and we’ll definitely continue to support each other.

One of my favourite quotes from today’s wrap up call was “You’re building your practice, even when you are resting”.

Yep, I’ve finally found my ideal career.

I’m determined not to fall at the first hurdle of this challenge, so at 11pm after 5 hours of coaching practice on Skype here’s my first post.

Feeling a bit meh, although I don’t blame the coaching for that. It’s just that I’m ready for bed and wish I’d done this earlier.

This blog post is an official reminder of how I feel trying to blog at 11pm.  It’s not a good time for me.  In fact I already knew that.  I’m  definitely a morning person.

I’ve proved that now by writing the same thing twice in this very short post and by completely forgetting how to spell “definitely”.

It’s edited now, but you probably don’t need me to tell you that.

Zzzzzzz

Yesterday was a bit of a struggle – full of “shoulds” and “ought tos”.

Yes, I’d got down on my hands and knees and cleaned the kitchen floor.

Yes, I’d cleared off one of the worktops and freed the crumbs that were trapped behind the many bits and bobs that had gathered there.

I’d written down some more ideas for this blog.

But I could feel the pent up anger and frustration that starts to emerge when I think the thought “I should be more productive”.

So I did Byron Katie’s “The Work”. This involves turning the thought around and finding at least 3 examples of why the turned around thought could be true.

So my three reasons that I “should not be more productive” were:

1. I’ve started a business where I help people live a slower life – duh!!
2. I want to follow my natural rhythms and inclinations, and those were telling me to do what I was doing and no more. Ha!
3. I know that whenever a “should” comes up in my mind, it means that I’m giving myself a hard time, and this is NOT an effective strategy for change.

Even so, by the evening I was again feeling grumpy and very down.  Things just hadn’t gone my way today!

And then I remembered what the trainer on my Martha Beck coach training call had reminded us.  It’s never the situation that makes us feel the way we do.  It’s our thoughts about the situation.  In fact Byron Katie’s Work is based on this understanding.  It wasn’t necessary to cut myself off from David, and end the day miserably.  I could choose to join him on the sofa and watch William, Kate and Harry at the Tower of London looking at the poppies.  So I did, and we thought once again about all those men who had died in WW1.  And I thought about them with respect, for the sacrifices they made.  Not with the heaviness of misery and hopelessness.

And this morning, I reminded myself again:

It’s not the situation, but our thoughts about the situation, that cause our misery and hopelessness.

This can be true in the grimmest of circumstances.  As Viktor Frankl chronicled in his book “Man’s Search for Meaning” about his time spent in several concentration camps, including Auschwitz, we  are free to choose our attitude in any given situation.  Frankl chose a positive attitude, in contrast to some of the other men in the camps.  They had given up, and would smoke their last cigarettes, instead of exchanging them for scraps of food.  According to Tom Butler Bowden in his summary of Frankl’s work

“We are not here to judge life according to what we expected from it and what it has delivered.  Rather, we must find the courage to ask what life expects of us, day by day.  Our task is not merely to survive, but to find the guiding truth specific to us and our situation, which can sometimes only be revealed in the worst suffering.”

If I’m honest, this blog came out of my own suffering.  Nothing like the real suffering of men like the ones who fought in the Great War and who were imprisoned in the concentration camps.  But self imposed, self absorbed suffering, that none the less can feel very real and sometimes absolutely hopeless.

If you have ever felt hapless and hopeless, there is a way out.

And it starts with changing your thinking.