Somedays it is beautiful, days full of exploration, of curiosity. The sun is out and it warms my battered heart, offering hope of healing, of a life that will be just as alive as if we had kids.
2/6 On other-days I plunge into an internal void, where my childless sadness grapple-hooks past tortures. Even so the sun is out, it just burns my skin, as I forget to care for myself. For I repeat past stories that scream I am not worth it.
3/6 More often than not, somedays and other-days are the same-day. As I reflect on my yesterdays I find myself wanting to tell myself new stories. Stories based in now, not conjured from the tricks of the past. In this moment I matter,
4/6 I am loved & an alive life is more than possible, it is now.
The telling of this story of mattering is a step I will have to repeat daily, just like I did with my old stories of deception. It is a story of honouring, it is a story worth staying with, crafting & living in.
5/6 It is a story awaiting a map, a map I'll create everyday, a map I'll no doubt lose somedays, but also a map I'll find again after my other-days. For it is a map I'll hold close to my healing heart.
"A moment of calm, the evening light casting no shadows, just an illusion all is ok."
Elsewhere I wrote the above. As we walked and talked, the pebbles crunching and shifting under our feet, I lifted off a mask, my fear I'll never run a marathon again,
2/ as I currently fatigue easily when I try doing more exercise - an effect not only of not being with my grief for many years and pushing on, but also from the virus, I am pretty sure I have had it.
As well as the sense of my actions not being enough, that all I am doing seems
3/ just a drop in the ocean when there is a government hell bent on only protecting their interests and not supporting a thriving society. It reminded me so much of when we were trying, all I did, all we did, and only heartbreak followed. It was never enough.
1/4 Yesterday @ChildlessWeek was Comments that hurt, based around lockdown experiences.
I contributed a piece entitled Resonance and yesterday resonance struck. I just stopped, there was tears, well more like a 20 minute sob for the accumulation of grief,
2/4 of feelings of shame and of loneliness. I just felt disconnected and had had enough of lockdown. Great timing as we enter a local lockdown...
In the end I wrote and played new songs on my guitar. It helped, as did chips at the seaside.
3/4 Alongside me the whole time was my brilliant wife and our snoozing paws.
These are difficult times for us all, I had forgotten that in a haze of work and exercise, as if everything was normal, as if everything has ever been normal. Take care all.
1/ "On his hands and knees he waits. He imagines soft voices and smiles. The slam of a car boot startles him; his eyes burst open, wide, light pours in, his body assesses for signs of an attack. The gate swings open, four small wheels roll along the path; a deafening war cry."
2/ It is @ChildlessWeek in September & I have contributed to it over the past couple of years. By sharing my experiences I have found connection, I have been heard & found a sense of belonging. The process of creating stories & art, has been helpful in my healing & acceptance.
3/ I recommend submitting your experiences, they can be anonymous - the more our voices are heard, the less invisible we become, not only to others, but also ourselves.
The above is an extract from Dancing under rainbows - the agony of not being able to have a child,
Arnside Knott is a local hill, a place we have walked together, with friends, with family. I place I have run alone, and with friends. It is layered in memories of my, of our, childlessness journey and grief. It is part of the way of the dead.
2/ It is where we walked one Catmas day. It is where we have mourned. It is where I have exhausted myself running. Running away from my grief, running to process it and running to remember our lost children. Last week we returned and took a different route,
3/ following our curiosity we stumbled upon a deer at the top, and a walled garden on our return. I didn't feel haunted by my past and removed. I felt connected to my wife, to us, and the beautiful nature around us. It is a new step with my acceptance of a childless life.
1/4 I am aware I have been away from here for a lot of this year, the ongoing pandemic certainly took me elsewhere. That elsewhere strongly resonated with my childless grief, the isolation, the disconnection, the loss, the high alert.
2/4 During the grief often it was all I could do to just function and get through the days. During the pandemic, on the whole, I have been able to recognise and be with my feelings and do things that helped me.
3/4 Which mostly involved being in nature, paying closer attention to my local area, noticing the wildflowers, the insects, the birds especially their songs. Over the next few weeks I will share some of the photos I have taken and any thoughts and feelings that resonate.