Sunday, February 04, 2018

I weep as I remember .........

  This month is my Mother's Birthday & Friday past is the anniversary of her dying in 1992.

All four sons were with her when she died in hospital.
I held her hand until she stopped breathing.
It was a special time.
It was beautiful in so many ways.
Sad and distressing - yes
but a privilege ...........

I have sometimes communicated in this website dipping place,
and you who may have read about it if you have clicked this way before.
I have told about when I was working in the East End of London.
Working with Teens, young adults many belonging to gangs & giving my all - beyond breaking point.
Demanding it was.
Giving to me it was too ....... all at the same time ....

My Mother was about to enter hospital to have her legs amputated - one above the knee, one below the knee.
Here I was in East London, in the most deprived community in the nation
working with beautiful humans, 80% youth unemployment and many of them deep into crime and enjoying violence and .....
..... my Mother was due to enter hospital over 200 miles away.

I was sat near the snooker table in the club one evening.
Back to the wall.
I always sit with my back to the wall.
The young humans I work with had heard about my Mother and of what was about to happen.
I was subdued that evening and not my usual bustling, bouncy, verbal self.
As I sat with my back to the wall near to the snooker table -
one of the toughest of the gang members walked past me & around the table a couple of times.
Walking ever so slow - walking ever so close - but not speaking, not stopping .....
Then, as he walked past me again,
he just stroked my hair away from my forehead and walked on.
........... that was the point when the sobs rose from my chest as I felt it
- that act of beautiful tenderness .......
As I click these keys now tears fill my eyes - again.

I choked, I think, because I was at a depth of vulnerability
I felt and I connected with those feelings - felt that.
Also it was because I connected with the act of non-verbal sensitivity,
gentleness and kindness pouring out of an inarticulate frame of a tough and violent young man.
I remembered it now and it moves my soul ..........

I learned a lot from that incident of care.
That incident was not a chosen moment of my vulnerability.
But I learned that it is a mistake to see vulnerability as a weakness.
Vulnerability is all about disclosing the authentic me.

Since then I have chosen,
and tried my best,
to reveal my vulnerability.
Not because I am submissive (instead of assertive)
or in Child ego state (instead of Adult ego state).
It is part of the process of me 'telling you who I am'.
It has driven my sensitivity towards 'the least' 'the underside'
and many beautiful humans I spend time with regularly
(who some say have 'special needs' )
.......... .......haven't we all?

So with the people we work with
- some people call them clients,
and those we work alongside
- some say colleagues .....
it seems to me that we need to practice
the naked act of sharing when we feel life experiences
...... both the roses and the thorns.
Beautiful Imperfection ........................

...... I  had a cry again ...........