It’s Monday. Time to breathe new life into a new week. Time to start to focus with clarity again. Time to reconnect to the heart. We’ve good reason to in my part of town today. There’s something clean about a Monday. Washing away the sins of the week that’s been, Monday seems to give permission for the week (and therefore us in it) to start again. To begin anew. This week, in Croydon, it feels important that we begin anew.
You see, I live in Croydon, London. It’s a place not renowned for its charms per se. It’s a functional lively place to live, and offers a huge diverse cultural pot of people that makes it interesting to walk down the street. It’s a down to earth, slightly grubby functional part of town, home to many different classes, races and ages. It’s home to us though, and most of us who live here say the words ‘I live in Croydon’ with a kind of grudging pride that has a hint of ‘come on then, say what you need to say’ in response. Croydon has a bit of a reputation, you see. It’s one of those places that elicits a ‘Oh…Croydon…’ response when you tell people where you live.
Most people in their minds eyes seem to imagine up grey buildings, 60s leftovers, grotty streets, short miniskirted club goers (even in winter), young (young!) mothers, ethnic diversity and all of that some how adds up to an apologetic ‘oh you live in Croydon…’ type of response. And whilst all of that might be a somewhat true reflection, we try to put our best face forward when you come to visit. There are some things we are not so proud of. But mostly, it’s a good place to live.
Last Monday though, something happened. In response to tensions, in search of release, in sheep like fashion…for whatever reason, chaos sparked. Buildings and tempers too. As a result, for the last week or so, we’ve been dusting ourselves and our streets off. Making good by boarding up buildings and learning to live with the smell of smoke in the air. Chaos reigned in our streets in the form of riots and looting.
And without quite realising it, I’m only now realising that I’ve been caught in internal chaos. I lost track of my heart, I went into shock. And as with most times when our bodies go into shock, I had not realised it. I went about my daily business, responded emotionally, but actually, my heart left my body and I was not quite able to function in the way I usually do.
That means I spoke to people affected – shopkeepers who dashed to Ikea to buy more lighting so their customers could see what they were buying because the normal daylight was hidden behind boarded up broken windows. I commiserated and shook my head in a ‘what’s to be done’ way. I called the council offering to bring my broom to wherever it was needed – apparently over 500 calls were made by 10am on Tuesday morning. All calls of help and support offered. I tried to breathe through it. I pretended I could just get on with life as if this was some small blip. I smiled in gratitude when fellow Croydon friend, knowing that I was in a particular part of town, called on Tuesday lunchtime telling me that it was apparently all kicking off again, with instructions to take the back streets home. I also did what I was told.
What I’ve realised this morning, as we come into a new week though is that my body has holding shock. My heart has been somewhere outside of me as I continued through the week. Deep sadness crept in and though I was going through the motions of ‘it’s ok, get on with life as usual’, life has NOT been usual this week.
I went to the shops and bought things – and noticed many people chatting and talking more than usual. I nodded hello and stopped to talk to my neighbours on the street every time I left the house for something (this is not entirely normal, not EVERY time I go out do I do that!). I enjoyed our friends coming round, I cooked, I went to the large hardware store to buy concrete and ballast for our new patio slabs that were being laid (I noticed that much of the large sheets of plywood were out of stock). We continued on. Life went on. And yet, I smelled acrid smoke in the air as bus doors opened and tried to make that ok, telling myself it was over. It was a moment of madness.
But behind and through it all, I realise I am still listening, just listening out for the helicopters, the sirens and silently sending little prayers of gratitude out for the safety of all concerned. Through the days, passing shops with wood for windows, signs out front saying ‘sorry we’re closed’ or ‘open for business’. I realise that I’ve been holding my breath. I’ve been in shock. I shut down my heart and have been going through the motions of living.I slapped an ‘I’m fine, I’m coping well’ label on me and went about my business. I lost connection with myself.
But the promise of ‘Monday’ and a chat with a wise woman has helped me notice the tensions in my body, my mind and my heart. With her help, I shook myself off this morning and have returned my heart to its rightful place, inside of me, able to open and close at will through my desire. Through tapping on my thymus, waking my heart back up and shaking out the shock, I’m finally coming back into light and focus. By being ok about feeling human and acknowledging that actually I was scared and sad and simply did not quite know what to do or think…through doing all of this, I am suddenly free and clear to start my week differently than I did last week. Because only with my heart wide open can I go and really have the conversations, really create and have the connection that my part of town so desperately needs right now.
I’m off to see what that means for me; I invite you to check in with yourself – really check in: how are you doing? is your heart open or closed? in response to what? and if it is closed just now, what can you do to open it up a little, even if just to yourself?
I recommend breathing (in for four, hold for four, out for four), bouncing (mini trampolines are wonderful), skipping – with or without a rope! – until you are out of breath, actually just saying out loud that it’s ok to feel the way you feel sometimes – and really say it: I’m scared that…, I’m sad that… and just notice what you might need underneath all that feeling. And if it’s at all possible, go fulfil that need as a gift to yourself. Whether that’s a hug, a yell, some reassurance from a friend, a breath, some clarity or even just a cup of tea. Go give it to yourself. Or even better, go give it or share it with someone else closeby. They may need it too.
