Do Over

Flashbacks are a funny thing; so random, so unexpected. A memory, seemingly lost over the years will suddenly pop into the forefront of your mind and in that otherwise banal moment you are catapulted to a time and a place you hadn’t thought of for decades (if you’re as old as me) and, most significantly, to an emotion that resurfaces, despite the space and time that has passed between. In terms of Reiki distance healing, it is said that you can heal any point in your past or your future – imagine two separated dots on a piece of paper represent two points in your life; by lifting the paper and folding so that both dots are now touching eachother, so space and time can be brought together (by those in a higher dimension). Have I lost you?! This is how best I can explain the emotional echo from all that time ago, distinctly present in the now. 

As I was cleaning coffee stains from the kitchen counter at my current workplace I was reminded of an episode from two decades ago that I had no particular reason to remember, it just popped up. It was at a workplace and involving a person I have long forgotten. Upon carrying my newly made coffee from the kitchen to my desk I turned my ankle and splashed half of my beverage across the double doors to the office before hobbling to my desk, cursing my consistently unstable ankle joints and berating myself for being so utterly useless. (Dramatic I know, but such was my middle name back then.)  Mr ‘Ego,’ the manager of the department adjacent to mine, came to my side, bent his elongated frame over and with arrogant aggression – not to mention invasion of my personal space – asked me if I ‘was going to clear up the mess I’d made, or what?’

Even now, whilst typing this, I am livid beyond rationale. At the time, as a 19yr old girl, I had no notion that I was allowed to tell him to go fuck himself and how dare he speak to me in that fashion; although I probably did reply with something flippantly juvenile.  He was someone whom I had no rapport with and didn’t particularly like because of his entirely unwarranted and unearned bravado; but certainly whom I didn’t expect such personal rudeness from. I did clear the mess, naturally, as I had intended to do once the throbbing pain had dissipated.

When the memory subsided and my focus was returned to the present I was met with a somewhat desperate plea for a do over. I wanted to go back to the me of that moment and stand up for myself, as I would do if I was approached like that today.  I most certainly wouldn’t allow a persons rudeness, especially if directed specifically at me, go without a cutting blow from my curt tongue nowadays.  Such are the lessons we learn throughout our lives.  I am wise enough to appreciate that he was probably having a bad day and decided to take it out on me, not that this is an excuse for such actions; but he had never approached me prior to this and I certainly gave no-one just cause to react to me like that.

Perhaps I am as ever, too sensitive for my own good; but the power of that emotional charge, brought on by a simple snapshot of the past, resonated so extraordinarily fiercely with me that I was quite taken aback.  Imagine the people we could be right now if we popped back in time and gave ourselves the sterling pair of shining proverbials that we have so justifiably earned since we were too young, too weak or too stupid to know better…!

JGlover 18.07.16
 

 

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Photo of Doom!

There’s nothing quite like a photograph to make you see yourself through different eyes, and it never ceases to amaze me how vastly different the perception is from what you see in the mirror. The camera tells an unspeakable, unforgiving truth; one that you cannot argue with. Last night I faced my own mortality thanks to a certain photo taken that day.

I spent yesterday with two friends on a day trip to Southwold beach. It’s a place none of us had been before, and my bezzie and I do like to always try somewhere new. As the weather has been so gorgeous, we thought we’d capitalise on it and treat ourselves to a day out of the office. We had lunch on the pier and a Mr Whippy on the beach, paddled in the sea, soaked up the sun; the usual seaside itinerary. It was a lovely day, good fun in the car, singing, laughing, and much joviality; a very relaxing and joyful day; until I got home.

My good friend, of many years, sent me three photos from the day. Two of them were of me sitting on the beach, they were pleasant enough. I had given her strict instructions to only capture an image of me from the neck up (as I do with everyone.) The other one absolutely scared me to death. I was lying on my blanket, arms outstretched, relaxing, oblivious to all; and in this sleepy state, eyes closed……I look like I’m dead. Like a corpse. I don’t look like I’m relaxing happily; I genuinely look like I am dead. Perhaps it’s the unfortunate shadows cast across my face making my skin look grey, maybe it’s because there’s just so much of me that my face contorts when gravity takes hold. Either way, it made me sick. It made me feel like my spirit had just risen from my fleshy vessel and I was looking down at my dead self. That picture wouldn’t be out of place if it had been taken of me in my coffin. I have never felt such an intense sense of my own mortality until that point; and I have never wanted to stay alive more than in that moment.

As I sobbed, looking at my seemingly lifeless body, I suddenly thought about all those times, over bygone years, that I’ve spent in depressions, wishing my life away, wanting to die, and contemplating ending my days. In that image I had my wish and it petrified me. I no longer have any desire to end my days nor do I want my days to end; I certainly don’t want my days to end looking so oversized, or as a result of it. I’ve never had as big a kick up the arse as that single photo has given me. I’ve never seen anything so hideous in my life. If ever my motivation to change falters…..I just need to look at that picture.

It was quite a timely awakening as tonight, a friend and I are going to take part in a Bootcamp with one of my heroes, Jessie Pavelka. I love what that man does for people, the way he helps them transform their lives. In my fantasy, he takes me under his wing, his new project if you will; and keeps in touch until I am at my goal. In reality, just meeting him will give me the boost I need and I can take from it enough to reinforce my desire to lose this physical baggage whenever my resolve weakens; which it all too often does.

Apart from the weight issue, the picture wasn’t unlike Scrooge being visited by one of his ghosts; depicting what it would be like to see life after you’ve passed over. As distraught as it made me, it was also quite a gift. In that shockwave of emotions and thoughts that overwhelmed me, I was granted clairvoyance; a vision of my future that I want never to become a true eventuality. That person will not be my future. My path instantaneously altered it’s course as I opened the file on my mobile phone. When the time comes that I really do exit my body and peer down at myself it will be that of a thin, wrinkly, ancient old prune with an accomplished smile; happily at peace.