By juliet
•
February 20, 2025
Ok, full disclosure. I think it was me that dropped the clanger yesterday morning... those of you who joined me would have seen that I was not at home, and when I arrived at my destination the night before, I realised I didn't have a magic circle with me and went into the 8am class and edited it to avoid the little hiccough and I THINK I may not have saved the changes. I may be wrong as I am in and out of the library ever such a lot but I am going to put my hand up and say it was me. I could probably wing it and get away with it but I have never been very good at lying and dishonesty does not sit well with me. Mind you, I say that..... I remember many moons ago... many, many moons ago when I was 15. My parents had a bar at the side of the lounge - terribly "all the rage" at the time, then terribly naff and I believe, quite the rage again now. Anyway, I was home on my own, I was bored and I started looking for mischief. I took the carefully hidden key ( hidden above the door as we all knew very well) and let myself into the little bar. I worked my way through the optics of many, almost certainly past their sell by date bottles of revolting sticky liquid and tried each and every one. Needless to say it was not long before I thought I was going to die. I staggered out of the back door to find somewhere to hide (and possibly die) and spied my sister's Hillman Minx which I crawled into and gratefully slept. When I woke, the effects were swift and I just managed to wind down the rear window and get my head out before events overtook me. As I was walking slowly back up the garden, my mother and sister arrived home and my sister was horrified at the state of her car. I still, to this day do not know how I did it but without missing a beat, I just informed her that there had been a load of seagulls flying overhead and they must have poo'd down the car door. Im still laughing now, some 42 years later, at how I just came out with that line and that, as I was staggering up the stairs "with the start of a bad cold", I heard my mother and my sister discussing how shocking it was that the seagulls had done that.... dear reader, we lived in Enfield, North London. There is not a coast for a hundred miles. My mother told us stories about when we were little and I recall the story of how my sister furiously denied writing all over the new wallpaper in her bedroom with a crayon. It was the fact that she would not back down and insisted it could not be her that saw her sent to bed. "But how did you know it was me?" she sobbed and my mother told us that the writing was, quite literally on the wall - all around her bedroom in wonky letters read "Louise 4" Yet, as the saying goes, there is none so easy to delude as oneself. I can say for fact that I have on many occasions talked myself into or out of situations, telling myself I could justify that cake because I deserved it, I could have that drink because I had earned it, I could slack off work because I had earned the right to... How many times have you gone to do something and then given yourself permission not to because of the story you came up with? I guess that can go too far and I know more than one or two who have lied for so long that they started to believe their own warped narrative. One such was my ex husband who lied to me about his age... when he asked me once to get his passport from his laptop bag, I flipped to the photo page to see how bad his picture might be, only to be confronted with a date of birth quite different from the one he had told me.. and he admitted that he had been telling me for so long that he had actually convinced himself he was indeed 8 years younger... Mind you, I still married him so who's the fool!! We all tell white lies and we don't want to cause unnecessary discomfort - if someone has just spent a fortune on a new outfit and they are thrilled, would we honestly tell them we didn't like it? ..... on that note though.... when we were teenagers, a friend of mine's mum and her neighbour went down their road to the church to watch the arrival of a bride for her wedding. Maybe it was because they hadn't been invited and were a bit miffed but they were less than complimentary and I can honestly remember this to the word and I am laughing as I write this ..."Crikey, the bride has clapped some weight on, hasn't she? I thought brides were meant to lose weight in the run up - do you think she has already eaten all the wedding cake? I would definitely wear sleeves with those arms" ... "And WHAT is Sheila wearing on HER HEAD? Call that a hat? ".... all this said unfortunately, very close to the videographer, back in the days of wedding videos being very new and with none of today's editing available. Every word was captured and saved.... on their ACTUAL wedding video... I kid you not... Learning to be brutally honest with ourselves is one of life's greatest lessons. One of my favourite books is Rachel's Holiday by Marian Keyes. Marian is an addict in recovery and weaves addiction of many forms into all her novels (also brilliant - Again Rachel and Grown Up's) and she talks with such candour on the subject of addiction - I have heard her interviewed many times and it is the power to delude ourselves that is so shocking. The lies we can tell ourselves when all around us can see through it. Another great speaker on the subject is the mighty Edith Eger, who I have mentioned before. A holocaust survivor, she continues to lecture as a psychotherapist in her 90's - her books The Choice and The Gift are absolute must reads. She talks about healing without distraction - whether that is alcohol, drugs, food, shopping, exercise, scrolling social media... it takes so many forms but it is only when we remove the many distractions that we can start to sit with ourselves, get to truly know ourselves and then, and only then may we move forward. We know the need to be present, to be still, to be quiet but sometimes it helps to hear it delivered in a different voice or explained around another approach for us to see how it may benefit us. Anyway - my name is Juliet Nicholas. I am 56 and when I was 15, I vomited down the outside of my sister's car. There are no seagulls in Enfield.
