Lily was feeling stuck and frustrated with her life. She had recently recovered from a long spell of illness which meant that she had been unable to leave the house for months at a time. She now felt well and strong enough to ‘get back on it’ – Lily’s words not mine.
We talked about what they might look like to her and, after a bit of pondering, she said that she wasn’t so much bothered about what she did as how she felt about it. She wanted to feel alive, be a part of the world and feel that she was making a difference.
That was a great start as she was already understanding the role of feelings, so was clearly taking in some of the things that we had been talking about over the last couple of months.
We then got curious about what life might look like if she was feeling alive, being a part of the world and making a difference. She got quiet for a while and then started squirming and looking a bit flustered. I guessed that she had got to the “I’d love to but I can’t” part so I asked her to tell me what was going on.
She said that she was imagining sharing the story of her illness with other young women, in groups and even on a stage. She was loving the feeling of sharing her story, confident in understanding what she had been through and what had helped, and knowing that she was making a difference. As she was picturing the scene she suddenly felt incredibly insecure, panicky and scared! This was the point where the “but I can’t” thoughts joined the party.
It might seem a bit heartless of me, but this is the part where I get a bit excited! (those of you who have worked with me will recognise this)
I got excited because I knew that something was stirring. I see it as an old core belief showing up, often to protect us from getting into danger. But what on earth was dangerous about Lily sharing her story, feeling alive, being a part of the world and feeling that she was making a difference?
I suggested that Lily just sit with the feeling and see what came up, and I encouraged her to talk it out. I reminded her that she was super powerful, an amazing woman who had overcome so much in her life and was actually made of stardust, always connected to an infinite source of unimaginable universal energy! She laughed at this bit and was ready to sit with the feeling.
For the next ten minutes she talked about feeling insecure about talking in public, putting herself in a position where she might be ridiculed for not being an expert on her subject. She actually argued with herself as she said stuff and then followed it with ‘well that’s not true’!
There were quiet periods during the tem minutes as Lily relaxed and allowed the thoughts to appear. I knew not to say anything, she was absolutely fine.
Suddenly Lily’s expression changed as a distant memory appeared. She sat up straight and became quite animated as she described an incident that had happened at school when she was just nine years old. Standing at the front of the class she read her story out loud. She had chosen a subject that she knew a lot about – her beloved cat, Tink. For five minutes she read her story with passion. Lily felt alive, she felt such a part of the group and she really felt that she was making a difference, helping others to feel the love that she felt for Tink.
After she had finished Lily took a deep breath and looked around the room. She couldn’t believe what was happening and immediately felt confused, embarrassed and deeply upset. The boys at the back of the class were falling about in hysterical laughter and that laughter seemed to be infectious because before long the whole class was giggling, even her best friends.
Eventually the teacher quietened the class down but the damage was done – Lily vowed to never put herself in that position again.
Lily looked amazed and burst out laughing. “I had completely forgotten about that incident, and now that I’m seeing it I’m not even sure that it happened that way! How bizarre that I should remember it now”.
I asked Lily to tell me how she felt now, although I could already see that she felt lighter and more energised. I asked her to again picture herself sharing her story of her illness with others. She paused and the exclaimed that she felt really excited about it, had no worries about it at all and couldn’t wait to get started!
We didn’t need to talk about the incident in the school classroom, except to understand the effect that it had on her whenever she thought about speaking in front of a group.
Lily would picture herself talking in front of a group and up would come all these feelings of panic, fear and danger. When she saw that they were not real, but a kind of protective thought hangover from many years ago she just got on with it and started speaking to groups.
I asked Lily recently how she’d been feeling. She laughed as she explained that she sometimes feel a bit panicky, but doesn’t take it seriously as she realises it’s just in her head.
Her words not mine.
