Goddess Liberation

Hi all,

it’s day four of me being bald, and I’ve had some time to catch up with my heart. Because I’ve had a horrible cold, I’ve been home most of the time, not doing much at all. This has given me the time and space to feel into the new me. I’ve been looking into the mirror a lot. It’s always strange. Never seen me like this before. I’ve had very short hair twice before, in my early and in my late twenties. I remember on both occasions having this same feeling, like wanting to let go, making a new start. But I’ve never been bald. This one was radical. During the last days my scalp felt odd – very sand-paperish – not a nice feeling at all. Today it’s feeling a little nicer, a bit like dry moss on an old rock. When I now look into the mirror I feel good, really good, about myself. Not only did I achieve to raise over £2,000 and quite a bit awareness for A Band of Brothers in only 21 days, but I also received so much kindness, so many wonderful messages, and my husband has been looking at me in awe for the last 4 days (sho shweet). Wonderful. I did it for me. I needed to let go of the beautiful hair when it looked its best. Seems bonkers, I know. But I am on a self-healing path; finding my growth edges and  shedding layers is what I do. It is very important to me that I walk my talk, that I’m an integral, authentic person. As someone who supports people to let go of old patterns and habits I need to lead the way first and be an example. Right?

Today I was asked twice if I wanted my long hair back. And twice I replied, “I don’t think so, I like myself more like this. It is more me.” The long hair was pleasing others more, in hindsight. To be quite honest with you, long hair felt like a pain to me. The washing, the conditioning, the combing, the hair in my face (urgh – hate that feeling), especially when walking outside with the wind blowing, also the pony tales (not very flattering and giving me headaches), and not being able to wear a hat when having a pony tale. Annoying. All that just to look feminine? Nope. I think I’m done with it. I am feminine. It’s not my looks that make me feminine. It will be interesting to experience how my new look will change people’s perception of me. I think they will see me better. The hair was kind of in the way between me and others; like a barrier.

Anyway – I’m a happy girl. And besides – this whole hype was in order to raise awareness for ABoB. I am so proud that I have done something for them. Because of them my husband is a lot happier in himself, has male support; has more access to his needs and emotions; is able to talk feelings with me and his ‘brothers’; has created deep, long-lasting friendships with some of them; and last but not least he has become an even more amazing partner to me. After 2 years with them he is now ready to mentor younger men and will soon attend another ABoB quest weekend. I am so very proud of him and blessed to love and be loved by him.

All I want with every fibre of myself is to motivate and encourage others to also be bold, courageous, brave. I do believe that if you don’t play you won’t win. Yes, it can back-fire sometimes. But without giving it a go you’ll never know. I certainly have landed on my bottom a few times in my life, but I far more often felt like winning the jack pot. Do make sure, though, that you have created a support network around you first. It’s important to be held by your community of like-minded people. It can feel very lonely if you do a courageous act and have no one to cheer you on, back you up and hold you during the transformation.

bald, bold, brave, courageous, Silvia Siret, OxISC, change, positive change

Silvia, the liberated Goddess

PS: Huge thanks to Amanda Tracey, who did the shaving and holding space for me. She’s my big hero. Her page www.goddessliberation.com is worth checking out. Lots of great events on offer for women.

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My work life

I’m at home with a sniffy nose, a lot of coughing, a painful stomach and a headache. I chose not to go to work this morning. I always think I should not call in sick – feeling guilty and full of shame for being not well. Anybody else feeling like that? Also, when I’m ill, I feel so very ill and so very upset and low.

Anyway, I wanted to write about my work life.

2 years I’ve been with this department now. The time for change has come, ….. I thought. I’ve just had a radical haircut, which is usually an indicator for change in my life. Two years is enough. Isn’t it? No, don’t get me wrong. I love (most of) my colleagues, and (most of) my job. It doesn’t pay very well, but – compared to other reception/admin jobs – it pays pretty well. There is no obvious reason why I should leave. Well – that’s not quite true. It’s the city I’ve got to commute to and from; it’s loud and full of tourists and students – overcrowded, I’d call it. At least I’ve changed to three full days from five half days. But still, a minimum of 2 hours commute on a work day? Okay, it gives me time to read (on the bus). And – really – an hour to work is not that bad. Is it? It’s like I’m looking for a good enough reason to change jobs. My husband calls me a job junky. I think he’s right. Maybe I’m just addicted to changing jobs after it has become routine. Maybe I’m just addicted to change anyway???

I’ve been looking, locally, but nothing compares to my current position, neither the pay rates nor the stuff I’d have to do to earn my wages. And – will I ever find such a lovely team of colleagues again? I’d be taking quite a risk.

There’s something else bugging me, if I’m honest. When I came to this country, in the beginning of 2005, I did not intend to work in admin much longer. I’d had enough of it when I left Germany. I actually hated being a PA/secretary/admin assistant. The whole admin crap – I didn’t want it anymore. And here I am – still doing admin. I wanted to be a full-time therapist. That’s what I wanted. In eight years I have not managed to earn a living from being a therapist. I am now not earning a living from anything I do. The part-time job in admin doesn’t pay enough to live – at least not in an independent way. I’m contributing to the bills, that’s it. The other days I’m spending hours and hours trying to get my name out there and trying to convince the public that constellations are fantastic and that I am a great therapist.

Drawing a balance: I failed.

Is that the deeper reason I’m at home, feeling pretty grim? I think I feel sorry for myself. Yes. I feel sorry for myself. “Poor little Silvia! You are a loser! Let’s face it. But I do feel sorry for you, I really do.” Is that what I need?

Wuh, – – – wait!

No, no, no, no, no, no, no. I am not a loser. And I have not failed. Let’s face THAT, shall we?

I have changed jobs a lot, because I was never happy in them. I finally found a job, in which I am feeling happy enough to stay. I may only contribute to the bills and not earn enough to make a living, but I could if I wanted to. I don’t need to earn more than I currently do, because my husband and I have an arrangement. More than the income I need the time to build my therapeutic practice. And that is what the 2 other workdays are dedicated to.

I learned a lot on my way, and I learned that it is important to give energy into the things I’d like to grow. I also learned that I have most of my energy in the mornings. I know I haven’t made a rocket start; I’ve taken – I had to take – the little side roads, and I still am. On the way, I got to know exciting, supportive people, and slowly but surely I’ve been getting my name out there and still am. Don’t forget: I had to adapt to a new country. I left all my friends and family behind and had to start all over again. I’ve built friendships, strengthened my relationship, was a mother and bonus-mother to five children. I fostered two young people and I looked after dogs. I simply had no time to make a rocket start.

I know what it is: I’m sitting in this space that is empty. My kids are no longer here, the dogs are gone, too. I caught a bug. I’m feeling crap. That’s why I get this sense of emptiness. I misinterpreted it as failure.

I’m not failing. I never failed. I only ever did as best as I knew at the time.

There is so much to learn, still. But I’m on my way. I may not be the rocket therapist, but I may be the one who has been there, done that. And – once this bug has left my body – I’ll be my old sparkling self, inspiring and full of kindness and love.

Watch this space!

Self esteem

I saw my mentor today. He felt slightly irritated about me feeling great every time I’m seeing him, and his view of me was that of a very busy woman being all over the place and at the same time appearing quite calm all the time. He must have sensed something else, something going on underneath that self-confident woman, especially when it came to the topic ‘money’. Building up my business means I have to apply a value to my work. I have always had an issue with money – I can’t remember feeling rich or well off, ever, or being able to receive money without feeling guilty. I always had this view of myself being a poor church mouse, and that this might possibly never change. I always think of myself not being able to ask for real money for my service. Am I worth it? Am I allowing myself to be successful, wealthy, better of than my parents, am I allowed to fail if I ask for real money? Today, being confronted with those questions, I suddenly became that – maybe – 13 year-old girl again, that was constantly being told she wasn’t good enough, had to change, had to do better, was inappropriate, wouldn’t achieve anything in life etc. I felt tearful, small, but also touched by this young spirited girl, who just did not get the assurance that she needed to become self-confident or build self esteem. I realised that my path was to build that up on my own by creating circumstances, which challenged me and made me reflect and grow. It actually started with my birth, when my mum had to give up and was sedated, and I was pulled out with forceps. My life, if I look back, has been a little like that. I’ve always pushed myself towards becoming a therapist, but I couldn’t do it without being pulled so often. Does it have to remain like that for the rest of my life? My mentor thinks, no. But I need to find that place in me that is able to get me where I want to be, to then fill that vacuum with self-esteem. Am I worth it? Am I valuable? Am I loveable? The only way of feeling worth it, valuable and loveable, is to re-assure myself as often as I can, that I am all that – until I feel it. The aim is to be independent from other people’s judgement about me. Isn’t it?