My first and last book…

The beginning of my last book about 18 years ago…I didn’t notice the codependency that lingered, but re-writing this book many years later where I deepened my enquiry I understood it…and the book invited so much more to be written…
It was time to go home, to leave Ireland. I was forty nine years old. I had been there for seventeen years. When I left England my fifth child was eight months old and my youngest was not yet born.

I had left in a green and blue painted bus, no home to go to, just a desire to recreate myself and my life. This I had achieved in many ways amidst challenges, breakdowns and breakthroughs, some crazy mistakes and some decisions that hadn’t been so wise to make.

Now it was time to leave, I knew this instinctively and yet it was going to be hard to do. Still, I was packing up my belongings, my history, my work and my children’s home. I was leaving a time of incredible transformation behind. A time where I had discovered myself; revisited my childhood and uncovered some of who I was in an intimate relationship. Most importantly I had let go of who I really did not want to be and was moving towards something much healthier.

I knew there would be so much more to do, as there always is and I was willing to take that journey. This time around I would need community, a new relationship and a program of work that would enable me to uncover so much more.

But this I did not know just yet. Filling my boxes with books and paperwork I came across some old journals that I had written over the years. There was one in particular, a leather-bound small book that was full of writings and poetry. It was many years old and I began to read it. Flitting through the pages to begin with, I then sat down amongst my boxes to take a more in-depth look.

Here was the story of what seemed like a different woman embarking on a relationship with a new lover. It spoke of the dread she felt, how she was somehow compelled to be with this man and yet all the signs showed her that it was not right, she was not being treated with respect and was hurting deeply. But she could not stop herself from allowing this relationship to run its course.

Deep inside something was calling for her to learn from its dark and desperate situation. I lifted my eyes from the journal for a moment. The story of my lack of self-esteem that had developed in me as a small girl was showing itself quite clearly and I recognised how much it was part of the feminine culture in our world, the stories that motivate dysfunctional relationships.

I had learnt that by investigating my childhood and writing my story, I would discover some of the roots of my own. This would lead me on a further exploration, a timeless unfolding of the significant moments in my life, those that carried with them a tale that needed to be told. I was going home, to where it all began, as we all must do if we are to truly know ourselves and our purpose on this planet. My beginning, my birth and my sacred contract.

from 
‘Ms’Guided Angel’ ~ the reclaiming of innocence