Ego! Hush your mouth!
You do not know what you are talking about
So, all the troubles in the world are created by you?
And all the jibes in the world are directed at you?
And you meanwhile believe you are so hard done to
How can such contradictions, all at once, all be true?
And befall you all at the same time?
You must be out of (please get out of?) my mind
You believe every person who says you’re no good
You tell me it’s fact and encourage my shame
Each perceived slight compels you to boil up my blood
As you bridle and curse, yet insist I’m to blame
You’re contrary, and mean. You deceive and you jeer
You bluster and preen, and you goad me to tears
Hush your mouth evil Ego! And get down from that stage
I can no longer watch as you wildly rampage
For another voice tells me (though much meeker than you)
“You are kind, do your best. You are strong and are true”
“Don’t believe that foul voice, and its critical spree “
“For I know you far better. Please now listen to me”
“Hush your mouth crazy Ego! Leave this poor girl alone”
“You destroy all her faith as you thrash and you moan”
“I am done with your chatter. I won’t have you at large”
That burden you carry
That bag of dark matter
It is sapping your energy
Draining your spirit
Put it down here
And walk away
You have carried this load far too long
And each peek inside that bag does you harm
And showing its contents to other people does you harm
It is time to accept this burden has nothing left to give you
Apart from more things to carry
Place it down here
And walk away
As you collected these heavy effects
They had a purpose to serve
They contained lessons you needed
They contained valuable gifts
But you have harvested those now
All that are left are empty vessels
Give me your bag dear
I am going to place it down here
And we are going to walk away
You can look back at it if you wish
But you may then stumble on your road
Pay attention to where you are putting your feet
Each step forward has fresh gifts to share with you
The ones behind you are beyond their use by date
Why carry a bag at all?
Set it down there my love
Don’t you feel lighter?
Come, take my hand
Let us walk away
A Guest Piece By Forty & Everything After For Lesley Pyne
I was contacted by Lesley Pyne recently, whose website was an absolute blessing to me, when I finally felt able to look my childlessness full in the eye.
Lesley asked if I would write a guest post for her site – which supports childless women to heal and create a life they love. She hadn’t realised when she asked me that her site was the very first place I had ever shared a piece of writing publicly. It remains the hardest writing I have ever done. The hardest story I had to tell. And it was thanks to the inspiration and support I found on her website that I found the strength to do it.
If I could tell that story, strip myself bare – not just down to the skin, but to my absolute heart – release it into the wild, perhaps I could release some of my fear and pain, confusion and grief along with it. If I can write that, I can write anything.
And here we are now, on this blog what I made – Thank you Lesley :)
I grew up in a very loving family. I knew my parents loved me and they told me so. I had a big brother who, despite the odd dead-leg and headlock, always had my back and was on my side. We were well looked after and enjoyed the simple pleasures of family walks at weekends and cosy Christmases in front of log fires. And yet, as I grew from a confident and carefree toddler and then young child, things started to change. I became more insular, spending more time playing on my own (or with snails, or my imaginary horses whom I fed rhubarb leaves, or writing odd little stories and poems). Gradually, and imperceptibly, my introverted nature was beginning to emerge. This was a completely natural process, but as I grew older and life changed around me, I began to develop a sense that I was perhaps a bit of a misfit amongst my more outgoing and outspoken friends. Having just come out of the other side of Christmas, feeling a bit down and a bit uncomfortable in my own skin, I was reminded of one of my early encounters with feelings of misfittery as a girl.