What a difference a week makes,
168 little hours.
What a difference a week makes,
and the difference is…me?
I have just returned from therapy and as you can probably tell it went very well. I bounced into the room like an over-excited Tigger and said ‘I have been thinking.’ Thirty minutes later I stopped talking and my therapist had an expression of equal parts pride and bewilderment. I know it is the nerd inside of me, but it makes me so proud when my therapist is proud of me. If I were Mutley, I would have asked for a medal.
Monday I was angry. Tuesday I thought. Wednesday I realised. The inside of my head has been a pretty interesting place for the past three days, which probably explains the verbal torrent that I unleashed as soon as I got into the office. I had a lot to say, and it was all good, which makes a lovely change.
I spoke about a line from ‘The Tao of Pooh’ which says ‘Everything right now, is exactly as it should be.’ This pretty much sums up the way I am seeing my life right now. It is a far cry from two weeks ago when I thought everything about me and what I was doing was terrible and going nowhere. I feel more at peace than I can remember for a long time. I am looking at my life and seeing the parts of the puzzle I have put in place, rather than the empty spaces left to be filled. They will get filled in time.
It was the first time in a while that I stopped doing and thinking and actually was. I could see all the projects I am working on slow down and stop in front of me, so that I was in control of them rather than me driving myself crazy chasing after everything. I think this was a mindfulness thing.
However, http://gaurichauhan.wordpress.com/ and http://bundleofcompulsions.wordpress.com/ do a much better job of explaining mindfulness than I can, and besides, it is their gig, so I won’t step on their toes.
I was thinking about the idea of there being masks we all wear in different social situations and that the only person who knows or true face is ourselves. I asked my therapist, what if, due to depression or negative thoughts they can no longer see their true face? Like when a projector is out of focus on the screen and is all blurry. What if they can’t see who they really are? How do they know who to be? I think about who I am meant to be in front of others a lot. I often end up thinking I was the wrong person whatever I chose.
There is a part from a documentary about Peter Sellers that says he did not know how to be in different situations. With his kids he was joking Cockney Peter, with others he was Posh Peter etc. I think I have been doing this for far too long. Or I had been until last night. I was in a food tasting session and I was making little jokes about a drink being the colour of a pale sunset and defending chicken in white sauce (not white wine sauce, just white sauce) because it was not the foods fault that it was so bland looking. People laughed. I was polite. I felt more like myself than I have done in ages. I actually thought ‘Oh, so this is who I am.’
This brought me to my last worry. What if by being myself, which is essentially an optimistic who is very in touch with his inner child (not childish I may point out) that people who are more serious think I am flippant and not taking life seriously? We decided that in the end, it was only their opinion and I could take it or leave it and not let it affect me if I did not think it had some validity. I still want to be a nice person, so even if I am being myself I don’t want to be a dick about it.
At the end, my therapist asked if I needed to carry on with therapy and where we were going with the therapy if I continued? I replied ‘Everything right now is exactly as it should be, so lets not worry about what it should be in the future and see what it turns out to be if we just let it.’ She was happy with that. That makes two of us.