I Can Be More

 

How many times do we ask ourselves for more? Every day, every hour, every minute? I can be more. I can achieve more. I am more than this.

It seems to be one of the basic human states.

I used to lay in bed for hours staring out the window. There wasn’t even anything interesting out there in London, just the same wall, the same thin tree with no leaves, and the same row of non-distinct cars that changed every day. I had no idea who they belonged to. For a split second my vision would blur, then it would come back, then it might blur again, then come back, and I‘d return to staring at Netflix; don’t get me wrong I love a well placed Netflix binge, but not every weekend, and certainly not lying there heavily for hours, sighing. Without drinking any water, eating any food, sometimes cackling, sometimes crying hysterically. I like to think that my response to TV shows is more measured nowadays but it’s really not, I still bawl like a baby, difference is I enjoy it now. I understand what it brings me.

 

In between these solitary times, I maintained a well-manicured persona of someone that existed proficiently in the world. I performed all the necessary traits: An exciting job in live music, a creative and loving partner, a London flat in the east end, yet, I knew I could be more.

I have no idea where the manicure metaphor came from but I’m rolling with it. My persona was good, even fooling myself that I was happy, I was happy the familiar colors, the ones I always asked for. I couldn’t see that those annoying little chips you get, at the edges of the nail, were starting to show. The color was wearing off, like I’d been to a cheap nail salon where the glue was no good, is that enough yet?

My bank account was always near enough zero, my weight kept going up and down, I wasn’t able to discipline my addictive personality. I frequently told myself I wasn’t a smoker then I’d nick a drag from someone outside the pub, or I’d frequently drink two more pints than I wanted to, or get home two hours later than I’d planned, I wouldn’t know how to hold conversation, often choosing silence, then growing resentful. I found always found that I never had quite enough time to do the things I wanted.

I wasn’t unable to enjoy things, or unable to love: I was distracted, I loved conditionally based on my own judgments and assumptions of the things around me.

These things don’t sound huge. Granted. But they add up over a week, I was always left with a low mood, a burnt-out nervous system, or just irritable. Honestly, I’d be a moody asshole. I was hardly ever happy; I didn’t experience a state of bliss, I never experienced a moment of truly not wanting anything else but a present state of joy.

Why you ask? Because I didn’t know how.

Honestly, I knew how to be sullen, sad, moody, gloomy, depressed, suicidal even — that was more familiar to me than joy. Truth is, it can be harder to be joyful, it takes more self worth, being assured of who you are, where you’re heading, what your goals and core beliefs are, and what they represent. It takes learning to say no, in a calm and constructive way, to things that don’t align. It takes asking myself the tough, courageous questions, and having courageous conversations with loved ones. It takes being truthful, authentic. It can be wonderful, it can be a little messy, it can be so full of love. It takes framing your experience of life around love, kindness, gratitude, and curiosity.

Pure unrestrained joy was something I discovered when I started to work at an 800 capacity venue in the city as a sound engineer. I would mix monitors for artists who were so joyous, their concerts were so joyous, the crowd were so joyous! The energy was electric and it ran through my spine and peaked at my brain like an electric web. When the crowd cheered, pulsed and surged, I felt that in my body, it was completely novel to me. I felt connected to them, and the band, and to myself. I had no idea how it was possible, but I got hooked on understanding that. It was a shock in many ways, but over time it sank in. This was a new level of energy. A new way of existing.

As a side note: I’ve little idea what it feels like to be the centre of that. The band member, the lead singer who is worshipped, it must be powerful! I’ve seen that power affect people for the bad and good.

On these occasions I would intellectualize and subtly undermine their messages in my mind, never to their face — I had a persona to uphold you know! Secretly, I would be in the wings of the concert, mixing their monitors, wishing, yearning for their ability to be joyous. I couldn’t kid myself anymore, i’d seen it first hand. I’d felt it and it made me feel jealous, guilty, sad, and angry at myself, but mostly angry at others. All those hard emotions. Later on, I’d learn the relationship between not being able to navigate these states quickly, and childhood experiences of trauma. I was stuck in them.

I believe we’ve all had those experiences of meeting someone who brings up deprivation thinking in us. Feelings of jealousy, lack, fear. I want what they have, and I don’t know how to get it! If we allow those feelings to exist, breath with them, and then get curious about what they are trying to communicate to us, we can then open up to learning as much as is humanly possible in the time we have with that person?

I learned how to smile fully, and unconditionally, first with people on the street in London, I didn’t have to see them again, who cares! There was enough people every day to practise with. I learned how to give generously with the homeless man outside of the supermarket near that venue I worked in. I started out from a place of guilt, then one day I thought to myself; ‘What would happen, if just for today, I let myself enjoy this?’

I started chatting to him often, as much as is possible for people from different places in life. I learned some tidy lessons from that man. Homeless people want to be asked what they want, not just handed a sandwich. They’re human too. They have a story. A sandwich is also welcome, but being seen is priceless. My brain would light up in electricity when I had those interactions, you know why? Because I was as starved for connection as he was. I was learning intimacy too. We all are in some way or another.

I believe that being joyous or blissful is harder than being sad, and gloomy. The media often frames conversations in this way, we’re used to seeing, and hearing, a serious tone; a sombre language. Our cultural narrative is partially a product of our environment, so our media outlets do have a big impact on the language that we deem appropriate to use every day. Often, I don’t know how to have those brave and courageous conversations in the right way, so that I can get through them and continue to experience love, connection, and joy in my relationships. I’m often used to playing small, in case I hurt others. We can call these emotions and experiences forward, joy is contagious my friends!

My relationship to others starts with my relationship to myself.

I suppose if you watch TV shows or listen to music with joyous themes then you’d know how to feel joy, because you’d imitate them, and then you’d fake it until you make it. The challenge, or perhaps the problem in many cases, with gloomy people, is that they search for and revel in gloomy stuff. All the artists that I listened to were serious, brooding, self-deprecating, talking about serious stuff like religion and trauma.

Well, it looks like i’m still in the gloomy camp then!

Or am I?

Whilst I love talking about cultural narratives, and trauma, I enjoy framing it in a loving and grateful way. There’s always a silver lining; these are our toughest lessons and they are where the growth in our societies lie.

This fundamental need for all of us to ask ourselves “Who am I?”, and to tell ourselves “I can be more”, is not to be ignored, it seems essential, it’s seems a reality of being a human in ‘Earth School’. Everything has value, from one perspective, everything exists to teach us something which has the possibility of changing our lives for the better. Life isn’t easy, but if we frame it as a learning experience, everything becomes useful.

I experienced developmental trauma, so I can be partially forgiven, no, entirely forgiven, for being where I was back then in London; I didn’t know any better, I didn’t have the skillset, the toolkit, the support network of people who had realized what it takes to go from struggling to striving — and I admit that is a niche skillset to have, yet, I did have a pervasive feeling that I could be more. Doesn’t mean I condone my actions, but I understand them from the point of view of what I knew and who I was at that time. I had that, it drove me, and it pushed me forward. That’s incredible and amazing in it’s own way, that it was innately driving me for more.

I’m fascinated in that. I’m grateful for that.

The feeling of wanting to be more is often dismissed as not permissible, or not desirable, but what if it is necessary? To be embraced as a sign that we do have more in our back pocket, waiting to be discovered.

Side note: This is not a call to be neurotic, or ruminate over how helpless or hopeless you feel, it’s a simple call to acknowledge the reality that you exist in right now.

Connor Beaton talks about the fact that if we’re in a space of helpless and hopeless, then we need to face something; we are playing the victim in some way, or if we’re in a space of ‘I’m not where I should be’, we are needing to grieve something.

It’s an interesting look at healing and i’m not downplaying these things, it’s completely legitimate to be in the victim place, or the grief place, and it’s so challenging and hard to be there, it’s just not great to stay there.

I had a chat with Justin Schaefer today about trauma, and the space that people find themselves in when they first realize that they have something in their past that numbed them out. Trauma is such an ancient, and intelligent system. It’s weird to frame it that way, but it’s true. If you look up the word weird in the dictionary you’ll find it’s origins in the old english word that meant ‘to be able to change one’s destiny’, yeah, weird doesn’t seem so bad now huh?

Trauma allows us to experience something that was too overwhelming to experience fully and survive from. It shuts down, numbs out, and redirects energy to the vital parts of us that need the most immediate attention. The classic example is it pumps blood to the legs so that we have the ability to run away from being chased by a bear in the woods, yet, there are examples of trauma where the system freezes altogether, and we play dead, because it wasn’t possible for us to fight or flight.

Somehow, even though trauma becomes a pattern of behavior, it also calls us to remember it, and heal it.

In it’s very nature it’s inflexible, and life will rub up against that inflexibility.

So the areas are numbed out until we have the skillset, the toolkit, and the support network to face it. Let’s be honest, that could never happen and that’s not to be judged, some people can live a satisfying life in that zone, others have it shaken out of them like me in the Nepal earthquake in 2015, or if they meet someone who shows them what they’ve been missing in the ways that were numbed out, or the midlife crisis; which I feel is an existential crisis, mixed with a nervous breakdown.

All throughout the points where I am numbed out, there exists a small and aching voice that tells me: “I can be more”.

This is a fragile place to exist: I’m not happy with reality, I’m not happy with the past, and I’m not happy with the projection of the future that I believe to be my only option.

First step in building a new aspect of myself, or to heal myself of trauma is really to have a transparency to the possibility of things being different.

What does that mean?

Well, the only way to transcend a barrier is to first conceive of doing so. I have to be able to imagine the version of myself that I want to be, and believe I’m worthy of it. I have to set aside money to go and see a professional, I have to go and see my doctor and be honest with myself about my depression (actually happened). After I was honest with my local doctor, I started being more and more honest with myself, I started to build resources, it took me a couple of years, but finally I found myself in a place of relative support whilst I grow through life’s challenges. Life doesn’t stop being hard, it’s my belief in my ability to deal with it that changes.

I’m not about to lead you down the manifestation route, let me tell you, i’ve read and watched my fair share of spiritual self-help content, with mixed results, however, I do want to mention that narrative and framework is so important when we talk about who we want to be.

I can’t conceive of a world that doesn’t fit within my current narrative or framework, that’s why people struggle so hard if they have to leave their religious beliefs, or if they go through a radical life change.

I’ve been thinking around the aspects of my own healing journey, and I feel these are areas have been essential:

• Slowing down, being gentle, listening.
• A support network
• Trust in my feelings
• Self-leadership

These are very specifically ordered too. Self-leadership is not possible without the others.

Trauma inherently takes away an innate trust. The ability to be intimate in a sustainable and healthy way; with yourself, and therefore with others. The first step is a container, a support network of people that know how to hold a safe relational space around trauma. It’s lovely that you’re aunty Pat tells you that you’re lovely as you are, and you should bear that in mind at all times, but it’s also very necessary to enlist professional help who are trained in mental health. Depending on the severity of the trauma, and you’re own personal belief, these options can be good:

• Psychotherapy
• Therapy — CBT, counselling, Gestalt
• A trusted friendship
• Somatic experiencing
• Jungian style shadow work
• Learning to meditate
• Exercise
• Eating well
• Drinking plenty of water.

O.K. I got a little simple at the end there, however, it’s surprising what you can forget when you’re depressed. I know, I’ve been there. This is by no means exhaustive, get out there and do some research. Healing is such a personal journey, it needs to be tried and tested, realigned, reworked.

The most important aspect of any of these healing modalities is trust. I’ll say that again because it’s essential:

The most important aspect of any of these healing modalities is trust.

It must be a respectful, trusting relationship. They must help you to discover and set your own needs and boundaries.

I believe that everyone has experienced a little trauma in their lives, it’s kind of built into the very nature of life. Parents have to mess you up, confuse, and distract you, in certain ways. Your parents, my parents, anyone’s parents are not perfect. They are human beings trying their best amongst their own awareness of life. Nor were their parents perfect and by the way, let’s not forget the huge amount of collective trauma that that generation experienced in their lifetimes with WWII. That’s easy to forget. We’re currently living through what might be described as a collective trauma event too, there’ll be difficult things surfacing for everyone.

Our parents don’t owe us anything after our childhoods, they’re not even responsible for modeling authority with us as adults. Those dynamics can persist, and they do. They will not give me everything I need or want, and nor should they. When we transition to adulthood we are supposed to start providing our own authority, integrity, authenticity. We build a sense of ourselves that cannot be dissolved by other people’s actions or beliefs. Then we have to go out into the world and find out who we are. Build something, reflect ourselves out there in the endless possibilities.

There used to be rites to mark these occasions in mythology, fairytales, and cultural practise. The Viking ashes practise is a great example.

We miss that.

We’re not taught the process of necessary growth away from our parents. It’s written deeply into Western culture to not do that, guys are nice; mummy’s boys. There’s cultural reasons for that stem back to the industrial revolution in the 19th century and the disappearance of men from the caregiving environment. I can’t speak for women, but I’m sure there are ways they’re messed up, confused, and distracted by the insistence to be nice, pretty, sexy in an objectified way, cute, or silent. I’ve heard women speak on these topics, so I know that that is the case. It’s antithetical to healthy growth in many ways. Let’s stop doing that. Let’s stop suppressing our nature, and actually listen to our own needs, listen to each other.

In order to step into a interdependent, co-creating relationship, I need to be clear of my own individual needs. A courageous journey: To sort out the attachments, validations, and the rhetorics of shame from the true expression of my own individual nature and how I fit into the collective.

The old rites used to celebrate a coming of age. Some would even send young men away from the village and out into the wilderness, with or without the older men. They would then return to a different dynamic within their communities. Robert Bly talks about “Stealing the key from under your mother’s pillow.” in Iron John. It’s an essential part of growth for a man to part energetically with his mother so they can both exist in their own identities, with respect, and love.

It is not our mind’s job to imagine a world that doesn’t yet exist in our practical environments. It’s in our heartset, heart space, imagination, or even if we are visited by the spirit of genius, that we must imagine more for ourselves. It’s entirely possible to step outside of an aspect of self, view it objectively, then decide what it is we want from that situation. Like climbing a mountain, we can observe the environment that we live in from a different vantage point.

Between stimulus and response, there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and our freedom.

~Viktor E. Frankl~

In a safe support network we can begin to dream in safety, we can begin to listen to our body in safety, begin to feel in safety, begin to explore our sexuality in safety. Naturally unfolding. Beginning to trust ourselves slowly, gently, over time.

I’ve talked to a few people recently around the dynamic of having PTSD. I’ve definitely suffered a lot of the symptoms of PTSD over the years. I also feel like it’s an umbrella term for the emotional response to trauma. My hands didn’t work properly — bad motor skill, my chest and neck would ripple and shake when I got emotional, my legs would twitch, I felt numb.

I explored this dynamic in one of my latest articles: Post-Traumatic-Stress-Opportunity? — Reframing Stress.

The conversation I’ve had is: What is the best way to frame PTSD?

I was undoubtedly glad to find the term PTSD because it made me feel like I wasn’t going insane, like other people had experienced what I’d experienced, and it had been documented. That’s such a powerful, and comforting force. It allowed me to seek the adequate help and I now see a psychotherapist. I’m learning many other things around healing including meditation, nutrition, exercise, and somating experiencing. On the flip side, there came a time where I felt shackled to the definition of it. I felt boxed in and defined by it. I felt like the ‘troubled’ one. It held be make from ‘being more’. I was the one that was always at fault when arguments came around. I felt unable to transcend the barriers of the definition; I felt limited.

A term like PTSD is very necessary and it’s a very serious area with very serious symptoms, however, perhaps it’s only useful in so far as a recognition of a common set of symptoms, maybe we should think of a term that it can be transitioned into so people can start to find self-leadership in their own healing. Eventually, they might even reach a sense of gratitude for that journey. It brings gifts, not always conventional, but gifts all the same.

I’m fascinated in the balance between being supported and being self-led through our individual journey.

I wanted to speak to the trauma because it’s such a common place to experience the call to be more, and it’s a common place of an extreme inability to find the resources that you need to get there; it’s a trap, a trap that many people exist in. A block.

For me, that’s where the feeling of ‘just keeping my head above water’ comes from. Sometimes we fight the tide when the only way to effectively swim a rip-tide is to swim diagonally. In other words, you don’t swim a rip-tide head on because you won’t have the strength against nature’s force.

So why do we try to face life’s problems head on? Rather than side-stepping, finding a tool, and approaching it from a different angle.

This model can be used in almost any circumstance, if I first admit that I have a block in achieving what I want then I can face that reality and only then can I take the first small step to overcoming that. The first step is to take one.

Nowadays, my feelings come more frequently, I still feel numb a lot of the time, but I’m dedicated to learning, and i’m dedicated to growing. I’m dedicated to being present in an ‘I am’ state. I enjoy feeling because I know what it’s like to not feel. My feelings come to me strong, like a bright rainbow palette, eventually they’ll balance out.

The most essential of human feelings is the need to expand; to grow. ‘I can be more’ seems to be the mechanism that comes to us to urge us to do that, and the admittance of ‘I’ve no idea’ is the starting point.

~Know thyself~

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Previously published on Medium.com.

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Photo credit: Joshua Earle on Unsplash

 

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