There is the greatest of difficulties for me to understand myself.

I am full of contradictions.

My Mother said once that I was “…so contrary” when I was a small child.

I never forgot this even though I did not then understand.

Now I know that she is right and it has taken me most of my life to figure this one out.

I am a person of extremes.

All or nothing.

Nothing in between.

No indifference to passionate witness even if I can now be indifferent to where my path leads.

I believe in heady beauty, caring, soulfulness, journeying, seeking and casting out the blockages on the way.

I have found much in myself over the years of human-based limitations including selfishness, vanity, pride, derision of others to increase my self-esteem, seeking self-aggrandisement, money, career (didn’t do very well anyway as they shoot away from me like animated beings), hastily seeking elevation at the cost of others and because I thought that life was too short and that we had to have everything in our thirties, narrow-minded prejudices or beliefs, arrogance and much more so it is no wonder that I was deeply unhappy. Awareness of this state leads me through, but recognition of my inadequacies leaves me desperately sad as I realise that it is no good pointing out the shortcomings of others without facing oneself and one’s own disabilities (which is what they are) full on.

Awareness of another side of me recalls even now that the most beautiful moments have been selfless ones whose vibrations have remained with me as a comfort and pricked my conscience during the full on war of my psyche (our deluder the ego) rushing to save its own life through its human limitations. Such painful awareness.

But that awareness is also liberating and enlightening and it is always a joy and an unfathomable wonder that I am brought to tears by the sight of a bird busily enjoying the contents of a camellia’s bloom (right now out of my window) and by seeing things through a spiritual eye.

Like the wisteria’s main stem and shoulders on the terrace’s structure – it looks like Christ on the cross.

Like the mandarin oranges with stalks and leaves in the tubular steel’s skeletal fruit bowl, whose shadow casts Christ’s crown of thorns.

Like the beautiful shell which I put into a glass vessel in its vertical length and becomes quite miraculously an image of Mary with Christ on her lap when I light the candle beneath it.

Like the object across the road through a window from my flat some years’ ago whose dark evening shape reminded me so much of Mary looking towards me and not letting me go even whilst I pursued something entirely selfish; eventually I realised that it was a fire extinguisher on someone’s wall and hoped that they hadn’t seen me straining to work it out!

And then again, the highly witty and sarcastic comedy programmes on the television are those which I thrive on too, like “Have I got news for you” and “Black Adder” and “Father Ted” (to name but a few) – that direct, no beating about the bush humour on the truth of a political matter.  Is that contrary?  Possibly, but I wouldn’t want to lose that type of humour which allows fun to be poked at The Establishment and myself – who take themselves too seriously anyway.  It requires facing the truth of a matter, its substance and the greatest of humour is that which takes you into its darkness, its shadows of the reality on life.

Like so many shadows cast across the pathways, the roads, the gardens, the seaside; shadows of light and of dark showing me other insights, other dimensions and knowing that all of these are the whispering and teasing of the Spirit calling you back, calling you to come, to live for ever to come back to forever and for everything and everyone and not for yourself.

And the wonder and pain of recognising that one has been a complete fool for so long (and still is one) that it hardly bears thinking about, unless I can laugh about it and have my wine and my cigarette!

If I judge myself under my own, careful, highly analytical scrutiny, I shall surely be guilty and lost and my conditional ongoing life would be a huge burden. In fact, it is a huge burden.

But God is not so hard, forgiving you without condition. The Christ took everything upon himself including the humiliation, the mockery, the violence, the scheming, the politics, the degradation, the pain (everything that we give to each other on earth for our own narrow ends) and ultimately this ego-linked human state was crushed and only wide eyed clear seeing love was left. That was the sacrifice, to redeem our human, ego-directed narrowness and its ultimate evil of self-deceit.  And leaving us with a sense of humour to handle our own inadequacies, at least enables us to see the funny side of ourselves and others, at the same time.  Is this irreverent? To hold sorrow, joy, hypocrisy, betrayal, inadequacy, false witness, misjudgement and huge sacrifice alongside great humour and self-awareness, is it really possible to face our own self? To see the truth of the matter?

Is the act of facing God the act of facing ourself?  Do we avoid our own judgement on our own true state?

I am unable to understand myself at all.

Physical, outward, behavioural manifestations of my own internal conflict is that I believe passionately in good, healthy food and good, healthy exercise and yet I love to smoke and drink, deeply, the beautiful red wine to a heady, enjoyable state. It these are not contradictions then I do not know what is! I live within such deeply divided boundaries that it is often a constant wrangle with myself. I can argue with myself and provide every, single reasoning from both sides and make no absolute decision for longer than a day. I can ignore my own advice and be liberal in advising others what to do, so that I have to stand back at my utter hypocrisy. I believe in goodness and peace and not in war and yet my very living actions are not contributing to this state however much I might seek to pretend that they are not. Pretence is a good companion and allows your ego to walk forward, head held high whilst deep within you know that it is not a true external presentation of yourself to the world. It is false but it helps me function in the world. “Contrary” is the very word and I marvel still how my Mother fathomed that one at such a very, very young age.

I didn’t work it out myself until relatively recently and am now wrestling with it but at least I am aware. Perhaps that will lead me forwards. . . .honesty develops and liberates you (and hones your sense of humour) but equally it makes you a huge outsider because you cannot function any more in cliques or in clichés -, always feeling the narrowness, the group demands, the restrictive codes. And often putting your foot in it by offending sensibilities and not doing what is “expected” or “socially acceptable” because you are not seeking approval any more. Does it really matter that you are “liked”? Or “accepted” on certain conditions? Is living a life where we seek approval and admiration from others a life worth living for those ends?  Don’t ask me, I am too busy struggling with myself.

To walk a long road with few local companions. Is that preferable to a cackling crowd?

Perhaps the other side of my nature, the pleasurable one of drinking and smoking gives me some respite, like they are my crutches in life. Yes I am as disabled as anyone who is crippled. But sometimes I soar to the heights of laughter and resonating with the good earth, its land, its yield, the air, the sea – I can be heady with the joy of living of high hope and utterly devoid of the darkness.

These two extremes then am I.