The Painful Truth

truth blur

Truth is a tenet that I live by.

I write books and blogs splurging out my inner most truths – whether they be painful, trivial or funny – since I believe in doing so I will learn from them.  And I’ve discovered that if I share that learning, then others get to empathise and learn their own lessons too.

At the moment though, the truth is that I’m having a hard time with life.  To my amazement, I find that I am feeling an anxiety so deep, that it has permeated my being to the core and constantly tortures me; despite everything I have done for so long – learning and being in order to live a cleaner, clearer internal life.  An internal life that will give me the best grounding for my external life – the world I live and work in and the people I interact with.

Yet here I am, feeling constant anxiety, coiled like a poisonous snake sleeping in my solar plexus.  As a coach, my belief is that there are lessons in this protracted, painful scenario that I obviously need to learn; but hitherto I have struggled with what these are exactly, having been so caught up in the drama of the recent life events that seem to have triggered them.

Since truth is one of the most fundamental rules for living this life of mine, then of naturally I have constantly shared and aired it and made it my modus operandi.  This means that I get to dump all the junk of life and of a life time’s conditioning, and as a result have consistently honest interactions with everyone around me.

But the truth about my truth is that I don’t… Not all the time anyway.  And certainly not where it counts, because I believe that the anxious situation I find myself in now, (in several areas of my life) is a direct result of the fact that I have not shared that truth.

Instead I kept a lid on my truth and there were a number of reasons for this.  Sometimes it has felt too difficult to share.  Sometimes I felt that it was unnecessary and not something there was time for.  That it just wasn’t wanted. Or that to share it would lose me something that I wanted to keep.  At other times that it was pointless because I wouldn’t be listened to and in fact I would be undermined for it and told that I was talking nonsense.  Maybe although the person I wanted to tell my truth to, was important to me, I was of no consequence to them. Sometimes I was too tired to make the effort or take the consequences.   Instead I got into a habit of getting angry and frustrated and either keeping all this to myself or moaning about it to anyone but the people concerned.

I’ve been silently doing this for nearly a year now and it’s built up to a pressure cooker of pain, without a proper release, waiting to explode…

As a result – different things have happened in different areas of my life.  In one I walked silently away – on the surface, whilst screaming inside.  In another I have allowed my silence to become a scape goat for other people’s noise and folly.  In both cases the common thread was that I allowed it to happen in the first place and then I allowed it to continue.

Fundamentally I failed to live my truth and now I am literally suffering the consequences.

Finally – now, going through the pain of this, I am living my lesson.  I already knew all this, but I just wasn’t prepared to speak my truth.  I was scared and so I bottled out of it instead.

But facing up to it has be a lot less painful than the tumultuous anxiety I’m living through right now.

The problem is that it may just be too late – the damage is done and history has been forged into a certain rigid steel shape which can’t be bent or altered back.

So – what’s done is done – it’s time to move on, reflect and not make the same mistakes again.

Now of course, having learnt, I speak my truth, yes – where others have sought to blame me, I have spoken, splurged it and shared it until the point at which I’m sick of it and I just want to be silent again.

And whilst I have my truths to air – others do too.  Their versions of it.  Their reasons for it, just like I do, and they’re different. Damn!  Now I have to argue, now I have to justify. That’s not what I want.  That is one of the many reasons I kept a lid on it in the first place.  Damn!

Perceiving myself to be a ridiculously balanced and understanding person, I acknowledge other people’s points of view. I can see that there could be a variety of individual truths.  Sometimes I can be swayed to the other side and at others I have to hold my own council.  And sometimes there is no alternative but to agree to disagree.  But oh so often lately, I have found this a pointless exercise in a particular relationship, so I have just acquiesced and kept quiet.  And this silence has bled into other areas of my life.

So eventually life threw a brick at me to stop me in my tracks, because where I had kept quiet, my silence was taken for complicity and culpability.  So that made me a target for blame.  But that was where the brick stopped for me – I may have been quiet, but I refused to take the blame for something I could not control, in complicit silence and meekness.  Even thought a battle line had been drawn and I was expected to surrender.

As I could be heard above the noise of the battle, I was forced to fire shots back and shout.  This shouting and pouting has not been easy and it has caused a lot of shock waves – not least for myself.  So I made my volleys, said my piece – laying out all my long truths in this war of attrition.  But the other side has the bigger guns, so then I had no alternative but to sit back and wait for an answer.  Unfortunately it’s an answer which is a very long time in coming back and upon which, I place a great deal of anxious importance.

And whilst all that was coming to a head, fate suddenly opened a door that allowed me to take a step back to the other situation – the one I had walked silently away from.  I couldn’t quite believe it – I was getting a second chance to resolve with words, the scenario I had failed to solve with silence.  And I hadn’t even asked for it, instead it was just offered to me.  Suddenly I had hope.  One good thing would surely lead to another.

But my cherished invitation didn’t turn into reconciliation.  It never happened; instead the silence intensified – broken by random Morse code communications that served to reach forward and then retreat.  It was so frustrating.  All I wanted to do was to listen and then in turn to talk.  So I tried to be patient and ironically silent, to get to this goal.  However anxious people want certainty.  We like structure and arrangements to help us to feel safe.  And I got the opposite.  Whether this was the truth of the situation or not – it felt like my time to talk was never going to happen.

So one anxious situation fed another. My mind now had two things to worry away at.  Sleep stopped favouring me, my appetite left me, and I couldn’t sit still.

So I had to seize control somehow and put an end to all this – again.  But this time, not silently.  If I wasn’t allowed to meet and speak, then I couldn’t be prevented from writing.  So that’s what I did – I finally let my truth out, putting pen to paper and then sending my words on their way.  Maybe they will hit the mark and maybe they will just fly away, scattered into the ether, but now I have let them out and let them go.

And that’s it.  I’ve done everything I can do for now.  In one situation I have shouted and in another I taken to the pen.  Maybe it’s a case of shutting the stable door after the horse has bolted, but at least no more horses are going to escape.

So this is what I want to happen now:

That the blame is withdrawn universally, and we work honestly and courageously as a team to ensure that nothing like this ever happens again.

That my words are heard and heal a breach.  That in doing so a greater, deeper connection is made.  One that lasts a life time – and leads to partnership, love and commitment.

I would like these things to come to pass with those people and places I face now, but it doesn’t have to be that way.  Maybe, once the lessons are learnt, we get to go on and put them into practice elsewhere and in doing so, somehow do more universal good.

And that, today, is what I have to say.

In sharing it I’ve decided to turn the enemy of my anxious thoughts into the friends of my purest truth.

May that truth in turn serve the greatest good; beyond all expectations, egos and emotions.

Yours truly,

Sandra

Newly Noisy Truth Teller and Sooth Sayer

I currently have a special offer… You can buy the paperback of my ‘Love Letters to Life’ on Amazon for £11.99 or you can get an author signed copy on my website – for just £7.99 including P&P…

Featured on the BBC as well as local and national media (including Psychologies Magazine and The Lady), the book was also honoured as a Finalist in the 2015 International Book Awards.  

‘Peachey Letters – Love Letters to Life’ takes the best posts from this blog, adds new content and wraps it all together in a sweet bookish structure.

It’s an easy yet satisfying read, which sees love in everything we do in life – from the big themes to the tiny, trivial minutiae of it too.

If you want to get in touch, you can contact me by clicking here…

My external plaudits include the following – being:
* The Director of LifeWork Consultancy & Coaching;
* The Author of Peachey Letters – Love Letters to Life and Co-Author of The F-Factor.
* A 2015 International Book Awards Finalist, in the Women’s Issues Category;
* The Winner of a Women Inspiring Women Award in 2013;
* Being shortlisted for Women’s Coach in the APCTC Awards 2014, also nominated in 2012 & 2013; and
* Being nominated for a Networking Mummies National Recognition Award in 2015.

Anxiety Poetry

It’s not me.
My name’s not anxiety.
I’m not a sufferer.
That’s not what I choose to be.

But what it is,
is a coil wound tight within.
Centred in my solar plexus
and curling a fist round my heart.

Another hairy hand reaches into my beautiful brain,
flicking my neurons and kicking my thoughts.
Then running them ragged – round and round.
And that’s just on the inside…

Outside the world goes on… Innocently or ignorantly.
Pushing my alarm buttons. Red for ragging bulls.
Starting stories and then stalling the ending;
keeping me waiting for the final fatal denouement.

Please just tell me what’s next. It saves my frazzled brain
from creating a thousand relentless stories.
Without the truth I have to surmise surprises.
And when you are silent, I swop the white noise for inevitable pain.

I fill the void with words – writing the book of our story badly.
In the worse chapters I’m screaming, screwed to the floor.
Or I’m forced to push and poke, shouting for an answer.
So spare me and talk to me. I don’t want a 1000 words, just the final one.

Don’t make me the tail wagging the dragon of dangerous decisions.
Go easy on me, and free us both from the rigid complexity of history.
Stop this silence and your burrowing in the dark.
You are only throwing up stones where you should see the sun.

The darkness is obscuring my face, while you avert your eyes.
So you don’t see me, hear me, or feel my faltering fear.
It’s not me this anxiety, it’s not my name, or the vein of my life.
So just open your heart and your ears to free us, so we can just be;
Who we are and not just a problem with the label of anxiety.

~ Sandra Peachey – Anxious Poetess

I have a special offer… You can buy the paperback of my ‘Love Letters to Life’ on Amazon for £11.99 or you can get an author signed copy on my website – for just £7.99 including P&P…

Featured on the BBC as well as local and national media (including Psychologies Magazine and The Lady), the book was also honoured as a Finalist in the 2015 International Book Awards.  

‘Peachey Letters – Love Letters to Life’ takes the best posts from this blog, adds new content and wraps it all together in a sweet bookish structure.

It’s an easy yet satisfying read, which sees love in everything we do in life – from the big themes to the tiny, trivial minutiae of it too.

If you want to get in touch, you can contact me by clicking here…

My external plaudits include the following – being:
* The Director of LifeWork Consultancy & Coaching;
* The Author of Peachey Letters – Love Letters to Life and Co-Author of The F-Factor.
* A 2015 International Book Awards Finalist, in the Women’s Issues Category;
* The Winner of a Women Inspiring Women Award in 2013;
* Being shortlisted for Women’s Coach in the APCTC Awards 2014, also nominated in 2012 & 2013; and
* Being nominated for a Networking Mummies National Recognition Award in 2015.

How to be a Good Egg at Easter

Egg with heart
It’s Good Friday today, this year of 2017.

I woke up slowly, dreaming the day ahead…

Now there are things to celebrate and things to plan for. Then there are things to fret about and things to be scared of.  So to counteract them I try to smash the uncertainty – by making arrangements, tying down time and filling my thinking hours.

But still there is the unknown of the next few moments, days and years to be anxious about…

And I am anxious… The anxiety sits in my body like a tightly wound coil, right where my solar plexus used to be.  My heart was used to resting there; but now sits in the centre of the coil, constricted and beating its’ bloody rhythm, alone in the darkness…

In the everyday transactions of life I can forget the grip of this anxiety, and the hold it has – there at the centre of me, temporarily.  But always it usurps and rewinds…

But in between, there’s the doing of life.  Already I have cooked my celebration breakfast; I’ve meditated; I’ve spoken with a coaching client and had a business meeting.  Now I’m writing a blog and it isn’t even 11.00 am yet…

And I laugh at my perception that so often I’m lazy; but this anxiety drives me – it jangles through my senses, urging me on; keeping me awake and busy.  It drives me to impose structure and exert control, because fundamentally I feel that the powers that created this current craziness, can also stop it – but they are elsewhere, outside of me.

So I’m still again and thinking my thoughts.
‘Be still enough for long enough’, so it is said and the answers will come to you.
Or… instead a thousand answers may come back to flagellate and torture you…

But in the stillness I reflect on my day so far.  It’s Good Friday – a sacred day in the Christian calendar, when the crucifixion of Jesus Christ and his death are commemorated.  In my own life Good Friday is sacred too – my father died on this day, 31 years ago.

He didn’t have an easy death.  It was messy and ghastly.  He had a fatal mental breakdown and his mind and body conspired to give up on life.

That sudden remembrance scares me.  How long can I take this pain and this continued tight torture? Is this me now, writhing in my own anxious death throes?

No… I’m not ready to give up on life.

Instead my stubbornness to have things only the way I want them is keeping me locked within this coil of hellish anxiety.

I cannot change the fact of my father’s death, but I can evolve beyond it. I can heal it and I can choose the hope of new beginnings; because as well as death, Easter is also about resurrection – a new start and an ascension to greater things.

As a coach I was taught to distrust the concept of ‘hope’.  A hope that things will work out suggests that there is also a strong chance that they will not… This is in the sense of wanting something to be the case, rather than believing it to be so.   As a coach, lack of certainty is certainly not what I want to be giving to my clients.

But for me the fascination of language is the history and variety of the nuances of interpretation, and how these embellish my interpretation of the world; so I dig deeper into my psyche and vocabulary – then see that in history, hope is also a feeling of trust.

Now trust, yes, we coaches thrive on that word. Trust is a more implicit commitment to the fact that everything will be alright, not that it may be.  In an uncertain world though, the strength in trust is the fact that we don’t necessarily have to know how things will resolve, evolve or move on.  But there however, lies the anxious rub – I crave certainty, I want answers; but I’m not getting them right now.  It’s as if nearly every area of my life is on hold, waiting for someone else to pick up the phone and explain to me whatever is going to happen next.

God, it’s galling. It feels like an appalling waste of my time and emotions, whilst I sit here and listen to the muzac of my untidy mind, waiting for the questions to be answered.

But still life goes on.  Still I coach others.  Still I’m a killer in business meetings.  So on the surface it’s business as usual and I’m still working in my role as go to support.

But to underpin that, I need to have support, and despite the fact that I haven’t wanted to, I have felt that I have had to share my current stress.  It’s a vulnerability because I don’t want to be perceived as weak.  But I can’t hold it in.  And I can’t support others if I can’t take care of myself and show that I struggle too, and how, at this moment – I struggle mightily.

As a coach I know that this goes deep with me now.  It goes deep into my living history and along the family tree even beyond my birth, to the influences and influencers who have passed their trials and fears back along the trunk and branches, to me.

The patterns of history I had long tried to tame are coming back to torture me; so there needs to be a deeper level of knowledge and healing that has to take place.  I just know that as this happens, it is going to be one of the biggest evolutions of my life; a huge break through and a re-birth into things I can only currently glimpse or grasp at now – because I’m not simply ready for them.

So as it turns out - thisSo as it turns out – this hated, hurting time, is the time of my life.

I don’t want to live in the grip of this anxiety – which is fundamentally a fear of what happens next; so I am choosing to focus on the now.  And I do that despite the tightly wound coil in my chest or whatever negative stories my thoughts are telling me.

So this morning I sat in meditation and the mantra that came to me was this:
“Every moment I’m born into a universe of infinite possibilities.”
So I breathed the words in and spoke them with my soul, over and over…

In fact I’m reborn and renewed constantly, every second of the day.  And each new second brings with it a whole plethora of distinct and dreamed of possibilities.

And it’s Easter, heralding Spring – the cyclic and constant new start I see in every year I live on this barren and beautiful planet.

So I will share my anxiety and my vulnerability with whoever is listening, and that includes my cherished clients. I’ll admit to the world that I don’t have the answers yet.

But I also acknowledge that whilst this is painful now, I relish in the opportunity to grow and change in ways I can’t even begin to imagine and that in doing so, I allow the whole world to expand with me…

It is Easter after all. Time to commemorate and celebrate.

Time to die and be reborn.

Time to stop, rest, heal for a while.

Time to stop and smell the daffodils.

And so all I have to say now, is this:
A very Happy Easter and Birth Day to you.

Yours trustingly,
Sandra
Sandra Peachey – Born Again Egg

currently have a special offer… You can buy the paperback of my ‘Love Letters to Life’ on Amazon for £11.99 or you can get an author signed copy on my website – for just £7.99 including P&P…

Featured on the BBC as well as local and national media (including Psychologies Magazine and The Lady), the book was also honoured as a Finalist in the 2015 International Book Awards.  

‘Peachey Letters – Love Letters to Life’ takes the best posts from this blog, adds new content and wraps it all together in a sweet bookish structure.

It’s an easy yet satisfying read, which sees love in everything we do in life – from the big themes to the tiny, trivial minutiae of it too.

If you want to get in touch, you can contact me by clicking here…

My external plaudits include the following – being:
* The Director of LifeWork Consultancy & Coaching;
* The Author of Peachey Letters – Love Letters to Life and Co-Author of The F-Factor.
* A 2015 International Book Awards Finalist, in the Women’s Issues Category;
* The Winner of a Women Inspiring Women Award in 2013;
* Being shortlisted for Women’s Coach in the APCTC Awards 2014, also nominated in 2012 & 2013; and
* Being nominated for a Networking Mummies National Recognition Award in 2015.

The Spot Between the Rock and the Hard Place

This is a tough post for me.  I’m a coach and a writer who works her way through the ups and downs of life, learning and celebrating along the way.  In my selfish sharing, I get to connect with and support others who are also going through their life stuff too.  This time though I haven’t got through to my usual clean conclusion.  Instead I’m still working my way through it all.  This post is a vulnerability because I’m still staking my claim to be a coach and mentor who helps others to see their way through.  I can’t see mine at the moment; but one of the things that keeps me going, is that when I’m through the other side of this and have found my path, I know that my coaching is going to reach whole new depths of insight and healing.  This then, which is all about me, I want so much, to go beyond me and do a whole world of greater good. 

The subject matter is deliberately vague; it involves other parties and my ethics prescribe that I won’t share the details of our joint stuff without first asking their consent.  In truth, we are not at the point of asking right now, so I’m going to ‘vague’ away, here goes…

The unbearable

The Spot Between the Rock and the Hard Place

I’m in that spot at the moment.  It’s that cold, damp, dark spot that sits between a rock and a hard place.

I’m sitting there because I’m going through a troubling time in my life… And it’s especially troubling because it’s not just about one issue, but two…

To compound it, I am waiting on the decisions / actions of other parties to move things to the next stage.  In each instance, I don’t even know what that next stage is – just that there are a range of possible stages, transits or exits.

In neither instance, for various simply complicated reasons, I cannot just give up and walk away.

A lot rides on both, for very different reasons.  But they are fundamental and important to my livelihood, emotional and physical well-being.  Yep – nothing important then…

So, despite my independent spirit and all the strands I weave into my life to keep it safe and ordered, the cloth has unravelled and now – just at this point in the time – the power belongs to someone else – times two.

Yes, I’ve given them that power – despite all the social media nemes; despite a life time of learning; despite a long, loved personal development journey. And despite being very much my own person, I have to interact with others for money, love and recognition, and at some point along the line, others in your world have to coerce with you in order for it all to work.

I’m not perfect in all this, I’m not a victim and yet somehow I find that I’m being slowly tortured and victimised even so.  All just enough to give tacit acknowledgement that I am just important enough to merit a little attention, but not important enough to be any kind of a priority, even in bringing things swiftly to a conclusion.

I’ve done my part for the other parties: I’ve provided the information and opportunities.  I’ve said my piece and am now sitting quietly in my dark spot and waiting.

And I hate that I’m so bloody reasonable, that I can see their point of view and understand why they do what they do.  I really wish I was a more black and white person who would just say ‘to hell with it all’ and ‘fuck you’.  But I know too, that this is not a tactic that has served me well in the past and so, if nothing else, I have to learn my lessons.  I just wish I knew what those lessons were right now…

In the meantime, apparently I’m doing all the ‘right’ things.  I take care of myself – I rest, spend time with family and friends and I go on with my life.  I seek support and get professional guidance.  I place my focus on other people and other activities.  I think about the future and put plans in place to support whatever the next steps are.  But without my partners in crime playing their part – the only positive thing I feel I really know about the future, is that at some point ‘this too shall pass’ and will simply become another chapter in my history.

Critically – I publically and internally repeat constantly that I am not vesting my happiness and well-being in someone else’s actions and choices.  Also I turn my attention to what I can do / be in the moment, to be content in the now.

I’m a naturally impatient person.  Yet despite everything I do – nothing, it seems, except prevarication, comes back to me: I set deadlines and they are ignored. I offer alternatives, which are absorbed. I ask questions and am answered with silence…

So I explain to my nemeses that the waiting, for me, causes great stress and anxiety.  That despite everything I do to counteract it, this waiting and lack of resolution is affecting my health and happiness.  But whilst my wellbeing is vitally important to me – to those I am waiting on, it’s of no real consequence.  It’s just one little thing on their list – they have the rest of their lives and their own agendas to tend to – until, for whatever good or nefarious reason, they get round to me.

As someone who really cares how other people feel, this lack of compassion and priority is particularly shattering.  Basically – they don’t give a fuck – but – in order to be true to myself – I still do…

And still I carry on, and still I’m here – waiting.  Does that make me culpable? Well – yes and no.  Still I work on the premise of being reasonable, whilst still speaking my truth in a non-aggressive way.  They know how I feel.  They know what I want to happen next.

So when nothing really changes, my fear weighs me down.  Yet I know too it’s my stubbornness that keeps me here, whilst my niceness also keeps me anchored.  And despite everything – being true to myself is more important than anything.  And so must I give the chance to those – even those that have hurt me so much – to put things right.  You see, I believe ultimately that they did not cause this damage deliberately.  And, yes, I have to acknowledge that I have done wrong and caused hurt too, and for that I really am sorry.

So I sit in this spot – this cold, dark spot – and even though they don’t see me, they know that I’m here.

I don’t know what else I can do now.  I feel like I’ve done everything, except walk away.  Instead I blog – therefore I am. In doing so I let it all out and I work through it, usually to a neat ending or a perfect conclusion.  Not this time though.  Instead I’m still riding the perfect storm and biding my anxious time.

And for all my selfish maundering, I want to state that my prayer is for this: the greatest good.  Let’s remove our egos and work together to change this, to move it onward – where ever that may be.  You see, ultimately I’m sitting here, because I believe that we can work all this out – without compromise, sacrifice or loss.

So, sitting in this spot I don’t know if my belief will be met half way.  However, I do know that I have to hold onto my belief whole heartedly and so, with love, on this day – I will let it go at that.

Yours, in trust,

S xx

Sandra Peachey – Coach and Believer

I currently have a special offer… You can buy the paperback of my ‘Love Letters to Life’ on Amazon for £11.99 or you can get an author signed copy on my website – for just £7.99 including P&P…

Featured on the BBC as well as local and national media (including Psychologies Magazine and The Lady), the book was also honoured as a Finalist in the 2015 International Book Awards.  

‘Peachey Letters – Love Letters to Life’ takes the best posts from this blog, adds new content and wraps it all together in a sweet bookish structure.

It’s an easy yet satisfying read, which sees love in everything we do in life – from the big themes to the tiny, trivial minutiae of it too.

If you want to get in touch, you can contact me by clicking here…

My external plaudits include the following – being:
* The Director of LifeWork Consultancy & Coaching;
* The Author of Peachey Letters – Love Letters to Life and Co-Author of The F-Factor.
* A 2015 International Book Awards Finalist, in the Women’s Issues Category;
* The Winner of a Women Inspiring Women Award in 2013;
* Being shortlisted for Women’s Coach in the APCTC Awards 2014, also nominated in 2012 & 2013; and
* Being nominated for a Networking Mummies National Recognition Award in 2015.

A Summer Sense of Spring

Spring has a beautiful summer coat on in my little bit of Blighty today…

Suddenly people are shedding their winter clothes and stay indoors inhibitions.

Driving through the countryside I weave softly round cyclists – not the whippet like, Lycra clad brigades I normally Sunday steer around; but families and day trippers.

Shorts and rucksacks are being aired, with steps taken in every which direction.

It’s as if the sun has made all these people bud and unfurl their garish petals -revealing their not so secret summer selves to the air and the soil.

Every day of sunshine these last few days I’ve walked alone. It’s been a balm in an intensely emotional time.  Yet suddenly – this shining Sunday, the world has come out to play, and I’m just glad to share.

Postscript… later, as a regular, all weather rambler, I’ll also be donning my outdoor clothes and joining a doughty group to stride across the sunny fields.

Please wave and say hello if we meet along the way 👋

~ By: Sandra Peachey – Sun Worshipper

I currently have a special offer… You can buy the paperback of my ‘Love Letters to Life’ on Amazon for £11.99 or you can get an author signed copy on my website – for just £7.99 including P&P…

Featured in Psychologies Magazine and The Lady, the book was also honoured as a Finalist in the 2015 International Book Awards.  

Making a perfect Mother’s Day (or any other day) gift, the book takes the best posts from this blog, adds new content and wraps it all together in a satisfying structure – that will make you feel the love, entertain and enlighten you.

It’s an easy yet satisfying read, which sees love in everything we do in life – from the big themes to the tiny, trivial minutiae of it too.

If you want to get in touch, you can contact me by clicking here…

I’m also variously known as:
* The Director of LifeWork Consultancy & Coaching;
* The Author of Peachey Letters – Love Letters to Life and Co-Author of The F-Factor.
* A 2015 International Book Awards Finalist, in the Women’s Issues Category;
* The Winner of a Women Inspiring Women Award in 2013;
* As being shortlisted for Women’s Coach in the APCTC Awards 2014, also nominated in 2012 & 2013; and
* Being nominated for a Networking Mummies National Recognition Award in 2015.

The Moon Man Poem

The moon man first saw me in his filtered light.
That strange opposite glow that illuminated some of my nights.
He glimpsed me, dancing in the long shadows;
And then we waned and I walked – letting the darkness have its’ domain.

Yet the moon moves in cycles, winding round the calendar.
It has feminine curves and urges; it marks and makes
whole oceans ebb and flow and it moves man too;
not just the flow of woman with her circle of loss and life.

In time the man and the moon will wax, in the way of our worlds.
And I don’t know where his dappled light will next be beamed.
Sometimes you see, that silvery light is craved and sometimes shunned.
It may be shrouded by my cloud or is free to shine on another astral island.

The lunacy of life can take over, pushed and coursed,
whilst we soul sweat and curse in artificial bodily toil.
This is when the moon boils in our blood as it reaches its’ most fully visible;
drowning our sanity and obscuring our simple, powerful truths.

For now the moon man has retreated to his lion cave to escape its pull;
alternately emitting lightening bolts and soft illumination from within.
And suddenly, as a moon maiden myself, I realise the trickle of time,
then look up – to see the moon scratching its’ close full course across the sky.

The moon is of its time – repeating the cycles of countless centuries;
whilst moon men and waxy women may or may not look skywards.
They often look down – shuffling their feet and scuffing the earth instead;
shadow boxing and side stepping in and out of moonbeams – not linear, but lunar.

But there is light at night, which is chased away by the brashness of the day.
All times cast their shadows and can be covered in cloud, with the light behind them.
And still we can choose what we see and alter our charted course –
so ultimately let’s steer it to united serenity, what ever or who ever we shine upon.

And maybe the moon man will morph to a moth and leave his lair,
to be drawn to a maiden again, who ever she may be.
May he and she do this without blunted expectations, and for us all
wherever we shine, may it be with moon brightened love, and sweet, silvered clarity.

~ By: Sandra Peachey – Moon Maiden

I currently have a special offer… You can buy the paperback of my ‘Love Letters to Life’ on Amazon for £11.99 or you can get an author signed copy on my website – for just £7.99 including P&P…

Featured in Psychologies Magazine and The Lady, the book was also honoured as a Finalist in the 2015 International Book Awards.  

Making a perfect Mother’s Day (or any other day) gift, the book takes the best posts from this blog, adds new content and wraps it all together in a satisfying structure – that will make you feel the love, entertain and enlighten you.

It’s an easy yet satisfying read, which sees love in everything we do in life – from the big themes to the tiny, trivial minutiae of it too.

If you want to get in touch, you can contact me by clicking here…

I’m also variously known as:
* The Director of LifeWork Consultancy & Coaching;
* The Author of Peachey Letters – Love Letters to Life and Co-Author of The F-Factor.
* A 2015 International Book Awards Finalist, in the Women’s Issues Category;
* The Winner of a Women Inspiring Women Award in 2013;
* As being shortlisted for Women’s Coach in the APCTC Awards 2014, also nominated in 2012 & 2013; and
* Being nominated for a Networking Mummies National Recognition Award in 2015.

Is it Mother’s Day, Mothering Sunday or Child’s Day today?

HAPPY CHILD’S DAY

I’m reading all the Mothering Sunday posts and reflecting:
I don’t have a mum any more.
And I’m not a mother myself.
So, regardless of why, that’s just how it is today…

For every mother and every child there’s a single story.
And it’s different for each and everyone of us.
Made out of genetics, chance and a million interactions.
Starting in the womb, then pushing out and pushing a way through life.

And I’ve heard it said that we choose our parents.
That’s both coldly crazy and softly sane in different measures.
I know I have chosen what I take from and learn from mine.
That’s some bitterness turned in to much sweet reason.

I’ve chosen the love and the laughter.
The generosity, the surprise gifts and all the toast.
The recognition of a tough job with the tough and easy love.
And today, what ever our story is, to celebrate my mother.

And there are no birth babies for me, but I’ve created so much.
I’ve played with god children and cooed over little ones.
I’ve hugged, hid, tickled, spoilt and giggled many times over.
I’ve witnessed the joy of new generations and played my part in their lives.

So Happy Mother’s day, what ever your denomination.
Whether in flesh or memory – seen or invisibly felt.
Regardless of our parenthood, there wouldn’t be a mother without – us.
So celebrate and be a cause for celebration:

And most of all – have a Happy Child’s Day – what ever that means – for you.

Mum Hol 2
My mother and this child

~ Sandra Peachey – Child and Creator

PS: It’s Mothering Sunday too – not instead of… 😉

PPS: I currently have a Child’s Day special offer… You can buy the paperback of my ‘Love Letters to Life’ on Amazon for £11.99 or as a Valentine’s treat you can get an author signed copy on my website – for just £7.99 including P&P…

Featured in Psychologies Magazine and The Lady, it was also honoured as a Finalist in the 2015 International Book Awards.  

Making a perfect Mother’s Day (or any other day) gift, the book takes the best posts from this blog, adds new content and wraps it all together in a satisfying structure – that will make you feel the love, entertain and enlighten you.

It’s an easy yet satisfying read, which sees love in everything we do in life – from the big themes to the tiny, trivial minutiae of it too.

If you want to get in touch, you can contact me by clicking here…

I’m also variously known as:
* The Director of LifeWork Consultancy & Coaching;
* The Author of Peachey Letters – Love Letters to Life and Co-Author of The F-Factor.
* A 2015 International Book Awards Finalist, in the Women’s Issues Category;
* The Winner of a Women Inspiring Women Award in 2013;
* As being shortlisted for Women’s Coach in the APCTC Awards 2014, also nominated in 2012 & 2013; and
* Being nominated for a Networking Mummies National Recognition Award in 2015.