Nothing to fear but fear itself

Although I’ve run several Street Wisdom events, I’ve not yet facilitated one with a specific focus. So it was interesting to go along to the event this week run by Hilary Gallo. We started with a discussion on fear and then approached the Fear Wall to write up our particular fears. The two that seemed to come up most were ‘loneliness’ and ‘not being good enough’.

The latter was the one I was going with, and specifically about my new website not being good enough. In fact, I’d got to the point of needing feedback on it, but was fearful of the responses I would get. I know. It doesn’t even make sense, right? So, it was well worth spending some time thinking about how I could overcome that belief.

Despite the bad weather, I had a lovely time exploring the area – I’ve never wandered the area behind Regent Street. Not much was making sense, but I know to trust the process and keep going. I stopped in a jeweller’s shop, where in the back room they made Goth rings – scary stuff like skulls made into beautiful jewellery. And, right at the end, I walked past Hamleys and saw two buskers dressed as pirates (a female pirate dress in a dress was a new take on the subject!). They were dancing to some very jolly music and it was all a bit of a laugh. And with the laugh came the realisation that what could be very scary, hooks for hands and so on, is made much less scary for kids by making it cartoonish and child-like. And I like the link to the skulls too.

So … fears can be made beautiful and fun. Who knew?

In the sharing afterwards, I concluded that I could use this by working on making my fear a bit sillier and funnier. I went off to meet a friend and, I confess, thought no more of it.

However, three days later I was working on the website (I hope it’s nearly the final edit, by the way) and my beloved came into the room. Without really thinking about it at all I asked him whether he wanted to take a look. I think we both took a bit of a deep breath and he looked through it … and pronounced he liked it.

Given that he can be a very ‘direct’ critic sometimes, I was chuffed to pieces. I really value his opinion on the pictures, particularly, as I had agonised over them for far too long and he has a good artistic eye.

There’s no direct connection. I didn’t remember the pirates when I opened the site up for feedback. But I’m sure they’ve been dancing away in the background. I’ve now done a little pirate dance myself and am working on a pirate song. So, pirates will now be my companions as I explore my fears. I’m undoubtedly going to be facing some this year … but now I’ll be approaching them in a piratical way.

(As a PS – I shared my reflections to my Reflective Practice group. Turns out the female pirate is the niece of one of the members. I love that synchronicity.)

by Jane Parslow

Notting Hill: Connections and Reconnections

The showers stopped and the sun was out for our wanderings in Notting Hill on Saturday 9th September.  Even before participants had arrived, I was making new and interesting connections, not least with Ada of The Tabernacle, who was making me a peppermint tea.  Our conversation started with my necklace, moved on to the Circle of Life and transitions (my area of coaching).  If Ada hadn’t had to work a shift I think she’d have been our seventh participant in the Street Wisdom event!

As I moved outside to await people’s arrival, a leaf dropped right in front of me – changing from green to brown in its own transition.

This event was part of the World Wide Wander – 35 events in 12 countries, and several groups in London at the same time as us.  The energy shifted as we all considered what we might achieve together!

All 6 participants were women, and all were contemplating making a change in their life – whether to move country, change job or simply consider options as to which direction to take.  A couple of the wanderers felt they were already practiced in the art of ‘mindfulness in motion’ and told me several times that they were good at observing their environment.  “Try today and see what happens.  It might be different … it might not”, was my response.

One of these women had recently moved to London and was thinking of how to connect with more people – a new take on a common Street Wisdom application of getting to know one’s new town.  In the sharing, she realised that she only looks at the environment and never at people, and was quite emotional about it. She talked movingly of feeling freer to look people in the eye. It was lovely to see her begin to look more directly at the rest of us as well.

The other found that she used her skill at observing the environment to look outwards … all the time, and to the exclusion of looking inside.  Her huge shift was to realise that she was actively avoiding thinking about herself and what she needs and wants.  There was a link there, too, to the procrastination she had chosen to address with her question.  She spoke of now feeling more open, and the realisation that she had become very ‘closed’, as well as her intent to keep practicing some ‘self-observation’.

For others, the level of observation Street Wisdom encourages was a revelation.  One wanderer who hadn’t really had a specific question found that her thoughts led her to the past rather than the future.  She had once enjoyed photographing streets and using her observations to frame her pictures.  Simply observing brought back that pleasure, and led her to wonder how she had stopped. She found a real reconnection to past pleasures and a way of bringing them back into her present and future.

On a lighter note, I was very impressed by the woman who managed to find the beauty even in a bird using her foot as a public toilet!  Apparently, it was the warmth on her foot she enjoyed … even after seeing what caused it!

And a final coincidence for the day:  my 9-year-old goddaughter was visiting, and I hurried home to see her after the Street Wisdom event.  The first thing she gave me was something she’d found in the garden while I was out.  A leaf transitioning from green to brown. Endings and beginnings!

by Jane Parslow