universe will make your problems seem a little smaller.
6. Spend more time in the garden and make it a beautiful place to be. Sow seeds for growth. Notice that even though weeds appear to over-run the garden, each and every weed has its own beauty if you look close enough.
Whatever you choose, know that what you feel during these moments is your ‘default’ setting; you were born to be at peace. All you need to do is to find your way back home, to who you were always meant to be. Sometimes we fear being alone with our thoughts, when being alone is what we really need. Only in moments of silence will you hear the messages from your heart.
“For me solitude is a necessity. It’s where I can find solace and make sense of the world. The most powerful form of solitude is definitely in nature where the planet and its abundance can quieten the doubt and relieve the darkness. My most profound experience was when surrounded by lakes and mountains and I knew that somehow, something had shifted. I felt like I was emerging from a cocoon, the cocoon being part of my old self, a shadow that was no longer needed, and that was left to be dissolved by the waters of the lake.”
Deryan Gilbert
Use solitude to hear your heart and access its wisdom. Let everything else fall away, as your truths start to make themselves known. Your soul always holds the answers to self-healing and it wants you to sit in peace to hear your words. Only in solitude will you experience the sound of your solutions. Amongst the rustling of leaves and the sound of the sea, you will get what you need. Use nature to nurture and tune into your soul.
THE QUIETER YOU
BECOME, THE MORE
YOU ARE ABLE TO
HEAR.
Rumi
WHAT HAPPENS TO YOU DOES NOT DEFINE YOU
Following my GP’s referral, within a couple of weeks I received my appointment to see the specialist. Feeling a ray of hope and a tiny ‘lightness’ that I hadn’t experienced for a long time, we drove to the hospital. Convincing myself that today I would get my cure, I thankfully accepted the invitation into the room of my healer. This hope soon evaporated into thin air to be replaced with heaviness as thick as the darkest cloud, as the specialist delivered the abrupt and very unexpected words: “Yes, you have alopecia. There’s nothing we can do, your hair may grow back or it may not.” He continued to pick through my scalp, assessing the situation. To have a man examining my head when I felt so ugly was utterly humiliating. He then, with no word of warning, informed me that wigs were available on the NHS. He took out his pen and wrote me a prescription for one. A wig? I sat frozen to the chair in disbelief and total shock. I had gone to the hospital expecting a magic wand and a new head of hair – and definitely not the acrylic variety. Even the word ‘wig’ was ridiculous. (Until that moment I didn’t think it possible that I could sink any lower. It appeared that there was a level below rock bottom.)
I was told that I could either get a standard NHS wig from the hospital or I could use the voucher towards the cost of a wig ‘from the market’ in Truro, where the proprietor apparently had a good reputation for helping people just like me. I stood sobbing, wishing for the ground to open up and swallow me whole. Hysterically, I refused to leave the room, demanding the doctor explore other avenues. He simply looked at me as if I was an irritating inconvenience. My husband eventually dragged me out and convinced me to go to the market, reminding me that it seemed to be my only solution.
Reluctantly, I allowed him to drive me into the city. In my mind, I kept questioning why they would sell wigs for people like me in a market. We parked the car and headed over, and to my horror, came across the wig stall which actually wasn’t just a wig stall: it appeared to sell fancy dress items too. I looked at the hair pieces in shock. It seemed that there was a lovely black and white Cruella-de-Vil number, an Elvis ‘quiff’, and various different brightly coloured afros. I wanted to run as fast as possible, as far as possible, as soon as possible, in the opposite direction. Unfortunately, the stallholder had already noticed us looking and asked if he could help. Rather than say, “Your wigs are shit and there is not a hope in hell of me putting one of those on my head,” I remained silently stricken, frozen with horror as my husband explained that we had come with a prescription. All around me seemed to blur and I prayed to disappear. The stallholder looked at my husband with confusion on his face. He then looked at me and quietly and very discreetly whispered that we were in the wrong place. Phew bloody phew.
Feeling rather embarrassed, we eventually discovered the wig stall and a lovely lady called Therase, who was to become a rock for me over the next 14 years. Therase was obviously used to dealing with people ‘just like me’, and she didn’t question or give me sympathy, which was refreshing. She made me feel normal. Therase was happy and upbeat and began showing me her wigs. I began to smile as I tried on a blonde bob, a long, wavy redhead, and a short brown crop. The stall itself was very exposed, and the only place to try them on was in full view in front of all of the people doing their shopping. But Therase’s warmth and smile soon put me at ease, and her ability to swiftly replace one wig with another without revealing my bald head was impressive! The little glint in my husband’s eye began to amuse me. It was beginning to dawn on him that he could have a redhead or a blonde any time he liked.
CHANGING ROOM TIP
Weaken The Glue And Remember You
Therase’s straightforward and very helpful approach allowed me time to separate myself from my condition. For weeks I had been wrapped up in negative thoughts, so much so that it felt as if alopecia had enveloped my whole being, and not just my head. The feeling became so strong that I almost viewed myself as a bald head on legs, the rest of me disappearing into insignificance. Therase’s upbeat ‘here’s where we are at, let’s find a solution together’ approach allowed me to disassociate from my condition and recognise that it wasn’t part of me, just something that was happening to me.
It’s very easy when going through personal challenge to let it permeate our identity. We seek sympathy, wanting others to feel our pain and understand. Repetitive sympathy and a ‘poor you’ approach however can act as glue, bonding us with our problems. The more glue, the stronger the bond which then strengthens the connection between our adversity and our identity. We feel as if the problem becomes part of who we are.
Understand right now that your challenges are not part of you, and they never will be. You will never be ‘divorce’, ‘anxiety’ or ‘bereavement’. You will always be you, just experiencing divorce, anxiety or bereavement. Allow yourself to detach from your negative thoughts and loosen the glue by seeking a ‘sympathy free’ day or week. Spend time around people who can easily talk about other things, or those with a solution-focused approach. Remove yourself from sympathy as often as possible, so that you remind yourself that your adversity is not your identity. It’s far easier to move through and leave it behind if we feel it’s not part of who we are. Weaken the glue and remember you.
I left with a long, mid-brown bob on my head, which felt weird, strange and itchy, but it looked a hell of a lot better than my egg head. For the first time in weeks, I wasn’t too scared to walk out onto the streets. Realising within just a few minutes that the fringe was attempting to destroy the contact lenses in my eyes, I summoned up the courage to walk into a nearby hairdresser and explained the situation. The hairdresser looked a little flustered and did her best to cover up her pity. She smiled awkwardly and invited me to leave the wig to be trimmed so that I could pick it up later in the day. The thought of walking out onto the street bald again when I’d found some relief was unbearable, so we went elsewhere. Having a wig cut felt humiliating, and the silence in the salon suggested that a wig trim wasn’t a frequent request; the staff seemed unsure of how to act or be around a wig wearer. I’ve never seen three
