When I feel the way I feel, I pause to ask who is speaking? What is the voice that has taken over, is running the show right now? For it takes me to the bottom - bottom feeding - the rubbish and the muck - this voice has a lifetime accumulation of abandonment and wounding stories to tell - it would act from this place too. You. You are there to wound me - and not in love - so out with you - cut, cut, cut and run! So deep is this part of me that it must be seen for who it is - a part me me - but not the whole - not the whole truth - when it runs the show there is little room for the new - little room for a bigger life to grow because the story always wins in the end and this narrative is as old as my hills - so I listen, feel - breathe back in and ask: who is speaking? Ah, yes I hear you little boy, locked in your two year old bedroom - dark and miserable - finding pleasure as a way to sooth that which a parent could not - would not then. And I have compassion for you and bathe you in my love - and the love that was with you even as you took your wounding deep into your heart back then. You felt unwanted, unimportant - a nothing to anything because mother was my world. And in the seeing, the feeling, the listening - I return to my centre - my God domain - the clear and clean place - the tall and connected place - I know that my higher self is wanting this change - is happy that I can see so that we can move on and create a new storey - re-parent the boy who needs our love and open to the bigness - the immensity of life now, unfolding as it does, endlessly in all directions - love waiting, life waiting for me to say yes again and become the one who experiences new life from my soul all the way though to the every day acts of mercy - intimacy with my beloved and a sense of purpose that guides my life like a north star. There isn’t anything missing here as I let the voices have their turn; but now they no longer run the show.