Fran’s School of Hard Knocks

September 22, 2017

Doing something badly or not at all

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Doing something badly or not at all

Doing a thing badly or not at all, is a question that has rather haunted me.

When I was younger, I was a disciple of perfection, so tended not to do anything, unless I could do it perfectly. That, of course, is rather meaningless, and entails doing nothing for long periods of time – what a waste.

But rather like the drinker who crawls inside a bottle for twenty years to escape the pain and finds, on her re-emergence that all her lessons are still waiting to be tackled, doing nothing for fear of doing or saying the wrong thing, is only a stop-gap. Sooner or later, these same lessons will come knocking at the door, demanding admittance. And it’s not use, either, deciding flatly never to engage, because there is a strong likelihood that the same lessons will come back again in future lives. (This is a subject I write about in my next book, Making Miracles, set to be released next May – which is just my way of saying, as soon as I can find the time to do it.)

I now would much rather attempt a thing, than decide not to bother, so long as I consider it worth the attempt. I think, also, that as we get older, our fear of making a fool of ourselves diminishes. We get to thinking that it might be rather fun to take a chance on something, for a change, it might be rather fun to make a fool of ourselves. If we don’t do it soon, when will we? And who cares? Our time becomes very precious when we can feel its tangible quality.

Also, I admit, this particular lesson – that it is better to try and fail than not to try at all – has real resonance for me because, as a disabled youngster, I felt such intense pressure to pass myself as ‘normal’ – whatever that means! I would sooner have volunteered to fly to the moon, than single myself out for the intense ignominy of failure, no matter how unlikely that outcome, and no matter that most others would not be thinking about failure, while watching my attempt.

Strange, the things we torture ourselves with when we are young. Youth may have a blank canvas to work with but self-definition is often painful in the acquisition.

Thanks for reading!

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September 13, 2017

Happiness Workshops

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Happiness Workshops

Happiness is one of these life qualities – a life skill? – that eluded me for many years.

It is only with the gradual dawning of my writing career, which started so quietly in June 2007, that I started to really look at what happiness is, what is can be, and how we can all have more of it. I don’t suppose we can have it all the time. If we did, we probably would not be able to see it. But even so, happiness matters. It is important – it imports into our lives meaning, purpose and lots of unexpected outcomes that sadness or worry simply keep at arms length.

Taking the themes I explore in my book, Happiness Matters, I’m writing a series of Happiness Workshops which I can tailor to any particular questions, time frame or hope. I don’t claim to have all the answers or access to particular wisdom – far from it – but there are times when sharing the problems we encounter, we can see in them hopes that may so far have been elusive.

I gain great help and hope in the process of writing, in the insights I discover from quietly asking questions and waiting for answers to percolate. Increasingly, I trust that process to unfold easily what I need to know for the next little while. It has been the work of years, decades even, and there have been some stonking great challenges on the way, but that is all part of the mosaic of living.

I would be happy to hear from anyone wondering if my workshops might work for them.

Email me here or contact me on Facebook or at franmacilvey@fastmail.fm

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September 6, 2017

Valuing my time

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Valuing my time

 

When it comes to selling my books direct to the public, I’m shy – I find it difficult to charge the full cover price without blushing. Interesting question from this reader follows – Why?

In the past, it has been because when I see the cover price and consider the outlays, I say to myself, ‘That’s enough of a mark-up….’ or more usually, ‘That’s enough for me just now…’

But hang on. What about the value of my time? That intangible quality, that gift from Heaven knows where, which, when we are young we seem to have so much of. From a vast, pale canvas, a cavern to fill with our plans and dreams, as our years pass, time seems to kaleidoscope alarmingly into something bright and precious… It shrinks imperceptibly, brightening up with the power of our focus to something so valuable.

And writing my books has literally taken years of my time. Time I will not get back, that has been and is precious to me. Investing in this desk-computer-word-count business means I have not done other things I wanted to… All that is worth part of the price too, is it not?

When considering prices, wholesale discounts and the rest, it is so tempting to say, ‘It doesn’t matter…’ and feel a bit wilted afterwards at yet another example of self-sabotage, that classic, painful opt down.

At least I know what to do about it. To counter any more erosion of my self-belief, this important principle, a mere two pounds here and there, may not seem much, but it feels good to ask, unashamed, for the full cover price. There is no storm waiting at the end of that private battle, only more confidence. Only more certainty in knowing that I’ve compromised enough, enough now, and that time is too precious to discount.

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August 25, 2017

Failure to please oneself

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Failure to please oneself…

“Maldives sunset silhouettes” by Creative Independence

 

One mantra running going through my head, helps to answer some of my current dilemmas. It has been useful to me lately, thankfully, or else I would find myself very lost.

“….Betrayal of your Self in order not to betray another is betrayal nonetheless. It is the highest betrayal….” comes from Conversations with God Volume 1.

Yes, I know what that means and what it entails for me right now. But it is hard to honour the tasks that have been set for me to do when others’ needs press so much on me and I feel so pulled towards them.

We all have times when we ask, ‘What will happen to that, if I do nothing about it? Will it die without me? What would that death do to those who are relying on me and who are so dear to me? Will it wait a few more years for me to come back to it? Should I allow other’s need to overtake mine, even if that becomes a great fat obligation that I know – I know – is entirely the wrong motivation and will procure and produce little of use. So many questions, each with their own peculiar pain.

I know that doing things because we feel obliged to, is the wrong reason, and, even despite all the work it might entail, is ultimately an empty gesture.

How do I express my love for those I adore, by letting them down?

There is another way to look at this. By doing what I don’t want to do – not yet, though I feel obliged to and might get round to it some day – am I trespassing on someone else’s karma? Am I smudging their path, which is for them to walk? Worse, is that the kind of interference which will come back to bite us both on the ankle? Ouch! I don’t much like the sound of that.

Imagine spending five years – for that is the least time it would take to do this job well – and then to discover that, actually, no-one is pleased or grateful. Even if they are, I probably won’t have been. Better by far to do what I can, when I feel it is the right time. It is hard to trust though, very hard to let go, when I am so used to expressing my love by ‘helping’ others.

There is no going back to the patterns of old, whatever we decide. We can only go forward, doing what our hearts call us to do.

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August 21, 2017

Access problems my problem

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Access problems, my problem?

Stairs, Santorini, Greece – image courtesy of Google

 

At our holiday hotel, I forgot – I forgot! – to ask about access, ground floor apartments and all that jazz. It would have been so easy. We booked in April, but I forgot. We found ourselves up several flights of stairs and steps – awkward and without handrails – of hard and unfamiliar marble. Familiar to the blithe locals used to the heat and used to hardness against the sun. Painful to fall on, I’ve no doubt, especially at the head of a flight…. No thanks.

So for a couple of days I hummed and hawed, tottered and prayed until we had worked out a path I could manage alone, without the hovering, worried arm of my beloved other half. Mercifully, no falls happened to cause any lasting damage – and how awkward that would have been.

I just forget, you see. In late middle age – early late age? – I am not as robust, bouncy, or able as I used to be. But because I can get around my home area easily enough I forget that all other places hold unknown hazards that slow me down to a snail’s pace. It is also untrue that my home is safe. In the last three years I have had numerous extremely painful falls, jarring myself on edges that I didn’t see coming, or that appeared unexpectedly in the wrong place. How dare they! They are, each in their way, painful reminders, that ten years is a long time in the life of a mobility-impaired mother. Ten good years, and each year increasingly precious, each pain-free day a more obvious achievement.

I have grown up enough to recognise that I can be happy with what life throws me. Which I do aim to be, increasingly. I find the only way to do that is to go deep within, and focus on what I want and need, and leave others to their own needs.

 

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August 14, 2017

Our Big Five

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Our Big Five

No, not the animals in Africa that hunters find most difficult to track on foot; not the lion, the rhino, the leopard…

No, I’m only referring to our holiday travels. Our big five featured on our holiday to Greece, from which we have just returned burned, blistered and a bit dazed by the intense light and heat. I loved it, but even for me, it proved a bit too hot…

Our itinerary was a rather complicated:-

  • Taxi to Waverley station, train to London Kings Cross, Train from St Pancras station (‘Pancreas’ to my daughter) to Gatwick Airport, airport bus to Airport Hotel, pause.
  • Very early (4.30 am) bus to Gatwick, plane to Kavala Airport on mainland Greece, bus to ferry port, ferry to Thassos, coach to hotel resort.

Long pause for relaxation, swimming in the sea, drinking mocktails and admiring sunsets. Then everything in reverse on the way home.

Our big five, taxi, train, coach, plane and ferry took four days out of a ten day holiday; an interesting, fun and educative experience. Would I do it again?

Well, waiting for our flight home from Kavala, I noticed that while there was one flight to Gatwick leaving at 2pm, four flights to various cities in Germany were on the boards, all leaving earlier in the day. Which set me thinking. Since most of flying travel time is taken up with getting to airports, checking in with two hours to spare and hanging around in departure lounges, the fact of already being at an airport makes a transit flight for the second leg of a journey Gatwick / Edinburgh much more obviously appealing.

So if there is to be a next time, I will enquire if there are any flights from Bonn, say, to Edinburgh, and take two flights in one day. With the time difference of two hours from Greece, what seems an impossibility while standing in an Edinburgh travel agents, becomes more obvious when glancing at the flight boards in far flung places.

Thanks so much for reading!

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August 12, 2017

Getting Back to Normal

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Getting Back to Normal

Welcome back after the long Summer break – I’m so pleased to be blogging again. It’s great to be getting back to normal, settling back into the usual routines.

But, hang on….

It seems we all take holidays and travel away, abroad in vast numbers each year for a week or two, to ‘get away from it all’. There are dozens of clichés about seeking adventure, a change of scene, finding oneself. And, getting away can make me feel bigger, more expansive, and helps to broaden my perspectives.

And I also love to come home. I revel in comfortable routines, a good bed, soft sheets, a great cup of tea, and familiar comforts; knowing I’m not going to have to deal with too many unexpected quirks…Those quirks that our flat has tend to be known. (Better not mention, then, the shower head in our hotel which hung limply, spraying water all over the floor instead of on me…)

But there is a big part of me that resists the return to ‘normal routines’. I can feel distinctly irked at the return of all the old – and frankly rather dated – expectations that it was a relief to relinquish for a week or so.

So here are my top tips for surviving the post-holiday blues.

 

  • If our first reaction when we come home is ‘Wow, our place feels very small…’ it’s a sign that we have grown during our time away.

 

  • Agree that expansion, change and growth are A Good Thing, both inevitable and precious. There is no going back to the old routines. Life changes forward.

 

  • In the familiarity of being at home, notice how old habits, which took a rest during our time away, resurface very fast. Decide which habits you want to change, and which are okay to keep.

 

  • We can be happy anywhere, so let’s keep the good mood around. There is no reason to send it packing just because we have come back home. Let’s laugh.

 

  • Let’s not go back to what other people expect or want from us. Why should we? Let’s do what we want to do, and leave other people to sort out their own lives.

 

Great plan. Thanks for reading.

 

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June 28, 2017

Going into business

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Going into business

Going into business on our own account, there are two things to know, and lots of stuff to discover:

First, we are going to make mistakes – some people call these ‘learning curves’, others prefer to see them as un-necessary detours, some as par for the course, but most of us see our mistakes as somehow reprehensible, un-necessary, wasteful and even, sometimes, shameful. Mistakes are none of these things. In fact, I would characterise them as necessary, valuable, and a matter of considerable pride – we can all recall the detours we made, but what makes them useful is to regard them as a sign that we are brave enough to take chances, to go out on a limb. Unless we can take our courage in both arms and take the leap, nothing can change, and we’ll never know what might happen.

Second, in order to minimise the fall-out from mistakes, we are going to have to learn new things, do research and take a compassionate view of our business decisions: in other words, we have to learn to accept a certain amount of trial and error, and not take it personally. Personally enough to learn from it, but not so hard that we retreat full of apologies and give up on another idea.

For every thousand decisions we make, a good majority will lead no-where, most will flop, and a precious few might take seed and grow. And we aren’t going to know which ones will land where until we try, so we have no choice but to keep going, stubbing our toes occasionally, but realising that the more we know, the stronger we get. It’s not our successes that teach us lots – don’t we so often take these for granted? – but our mistakes, so perhaps it’s time to see our learning curves a bit differently.

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June 26, 2017

Writing for teens

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Writing for teens

I’ve never seriously considered writing for teens, though my daughter has asked me often, if I would consider it.  So it comes as a bit of a revelation to me – not for the first time, I realise – that young adults, teens from all over the world enjoy reading my memoir, Trapped.  In exploring my life as it was, I never set out to consciously write a book for young adults, though my prose style tries to avoid over-sophistication.  (Even as I write that, I worry: my daughter asked me recently if I swallowed a dictionary…do I still use three long words, where one short one would do?)

Last year, I was delighted to hear of a class of seventh graders, twelve year olds in the USA, who were set Trapped as a reading text by their class teacher.  And recently, Sam Keane sent me a review, which I have included as a recent blog post.

I have always assumed that Trapped, being about a depressed, angry and sexually frustrated woman who only wants to be happy – to be allowed to be herself – would place it firmly in the ‘adult’ category.  So how do I feel, knowing that youngsters read about my sexual frustration?

It may be that teachers, using the text as a study tool for young adults, delicately sensor the text; or more probably, since I was at school, there has been a revolution in attitudes around sexual experience.  My daughter, I know, benefits from a full and candid exploration of attitude to sex at school, which contrasts markedly with the tiptoeing and cringeworthy explorations that we endured in late primary education in the late 1970s, and which left us with more questions than answers.

Perhaps my attitudes are well out of date, and what I consider cringeworthy and embarrassing is merely part of life, these days.  It could just be that young adults are less phased, that they listen, decide and make up their own minds more readily about what they experience.  If that is so, then I am pleased, and I applaud the sophistication of young people.  They, so much more than my generation, tell the truth and expect to hear it, so are unlikely to be phased by a few truthful, passing references to the sexual experiences of one woman who, if she’d had her way, would have loved to find more ways of enjoying love.

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June 16, 2017

Lowering the voting age

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All those in favour of lowering the voting age say ‘Aye!’

Given the ways our votes affect young people, increasingly I favour of lowering the voting age.

For some reason that is unclear to me, young people venturing forth seem to be discouraged from being too independent until they hit their mid-twenties.

Perhaps, until youth reaches the middle twenties, it is considered too radical, having little or no stake in the status quo. Increasingly, punitive legislation and the withdrawal of state support from young people living alone makes it clear that youngsters are expected to stay firmly ensconced in the bosom of their loving families until they have completed a satisfying respectable and useful tertiary education, preferably in something sensible like business studies, commerce, modern affairs or construction. Or, if they must plump for something esoteric, a degree in Mandarin is a good way to go.

Given that a youngster has far more stake in the future than I do, I can see no reason why the voting age should not be lowered to sixteen. We are allowed to marry at sixteen, but not go to X rated movies or own a pet, or vote. How odd. My daughter’s analysis of the political situation is astute – she predicted, for example that Donald Trump would win the US election – and, with age appropriate language, her grasp of facts is much quicker than mine has ever been. It seems unjust that young adults can be responsible for their acts under the law, for example, but can have no say in shaping it until they are eighteen.

The argument that they are not sufficiently aware of consequences seems to me to be patronising and rather beside the point. Lots of people voting on important decisions – the EU referendum, for example – freely admit to having had little idea what they were voting for or against. Knowledge does not seem to be a requirement for anyone over eighteen.

Given the challenges they – and we all – will have to face, it seems right that young adults should have a vote at sixteen. Perhaps their more honest and direct appreciation of all the issues at stake would produce a more inclusive environment for constructive political debate, vital for healing divisions in society.

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