The story of life.
I was brought up in the sixties at the tail end of the cold war and under the daily threat of nuclear war, four minute warning rehearsals to the end of your life and the two weeks days where the world seemed to stand still during the Cuban missile stand off are memories which make me shiver. The sort of memories which are stored in your brain like technicolour movie stills. Recalled by the body as breath holding, and sick making , almost frozen but still functioning.
I remember worrying about my dad being called up and how I would manage with my mum and handicapped sister if he was away for a long time. We had leaflets about how to protect yourself if the bomb dropped,I read them avidly so that I would be prepared – God Love me – I was only 11 and mum had already stored enough tins and dustbin bags to cope with a six month incarceration although actually it would have been incineration but the store cupboard was her security. Nothing bad happened if it was full up.
So, crisis over and we protested and marched, had hippy days and love ins because we realised that life can be taken away in an instant.
We have a different threat now, the one where peoples lives are being taken away because they are so stressed, so many requirements placed on their money and not enough time to fill the store cupboard to pay for the next lot of fees, pensions, health care.
When we feel under threat we are subject to the stress response, fight, run away, freeze.
How are you responding, do you take time to think about what you want for yourself or within a family setting.
Are you pulling together or apart because the fear makes conversation impossible.
You don’t have to be anyone else or make yourselves be like anyone else. We are all extraordinary just by the fact that there is no one else like us, never was and never will be. Isn’t that magical.
We may live a small ordinary life but it’s still special because of your uniqueness.
We can’t all be movers and shakers, celebrities, inventors or explorers, the media, magazines, some self help books and peer pressure have created an illusion. It’s not your dream, it’s their dream.
It’s Ok to be you. We are all part of the story of life. Whats yours?