As I sit with a blank page, it’s tempting to invite AI to give me a starting place (and occasionally it does) but today there’s a sense of being nudged to wait until something forms. So I wait….
What comes in the pause is something to share and celebrate. I don’t often pat myself on the back, but today I do – acknowledging I met my target date for submitting a first draft of my next book to the editor, on the last day of last year. Duncan Lockerbie used his particular version of magic with my first, and I’m confident he will do the same again. My current working title is “How We Say Goodbye – Skilful Endings in Therapy and Coaching” (or is it “Coaching and Therapy”? I’m not sure yet). I’ve asked some trusted friends and colleagues to be my first readers. I won’t bore you with the stages to come, I’ll just update you some months from now with a book cover and suitable fanfare. My mood is satisfied and hopeful.
Does “satisfied and hopeful” endure? Some days more than others. I begin my days with morning practices to provide fertile ground for satisfied and hopeful, then life happens. As for us all there are things within our control and things well beyond. “I plan, God laughs” accompanies me (God being shorthand for the many words which come to mind when I contemplate the mystery, the more, the universe….). I do love to plan. I spend time reviewing my calendar – there’s a comfort in seeing what’s satisfyingly complete, what’s coming up, what’s on the horizon – all providing a sense of control where really no control exists. As the serenity prayer so aptly reminds me “God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.”
Back to satisfied and hopeful. I’ve been talking to a dear colleague about mood. Less mood management and more mood awareness. The salient question being: does this mood serve me? If yes, then acknowledge and appreciate its presence. If not, what is within my agency to shift? I know that resentment visits from time to time and sitting in it does not serve me – other than signpost what needs attention. Which brings me to another guiding light in my life. Jalaluddin Rumi’s poem The Guest House. I’ve probably quoted it before, it’s a favourite. Here’s the version translated by Coleman Barks:
This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honourably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.
Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.
What stands out here for you? Any particular words or phrases? I leave you with an invitation to pause, to ponder and reflect on your emotions and moods.
[My private practice is usually full and you’re welcome to reach out to see if that’s changed]