Travelling has always been a time for reflection for me, as it is for most people. There’s something about this middle ground of worlds that allows you to be the person you want to be, unlimited by the expectations and structures of the reality on the ground. For some, a plane can be ‘home’ – it is neither the culture of origin nor that of the destination, when each can be a painful reminder that you no longer fit in either.
Travelling has also been, in the past, fairly fraught emotionally, ping-ponging back and forth between the world of my relationships and the world of my obligations, half of my life spent in each and my soul yearning for some strength to do it, or the grace to transition gallantly at least.
2009 was a year of facing some of the fraught memories of years spent concealed as a Ping Pong. Most people will know that dealing with negative memories requires returning to them first. A painful experience, to delve into the past and fish out the bad stuff, confront it firmly enough that it loses its hold, and leap safely back into reality without fragments of pain clinging on tightly. There is a theory in Psychology around the idea of the Inner Child; that if you experience trauma or negative experiences before you are an adult, it is often necessary to return to that age in your emotional memory and consult the child of the experience, in order to properly deal with that pain. Having spent my teenage years flying between worlds in what I remember as being a fairly traumatised state of mind, I found it completely impossible to get on a plane as an adult without feeling the fear and abandonment of that teenager.
Six months ago, equipped with my new found knowledge of the Inner Child and built up by weeks spent coaching the negative memories from my then reality, into the past, I was encouraged to get on the plane with the teenager. As bizarre as it sounds, we sat together, me and myself, and flew from Kilimanjaro back to London: the terrifying journey of our childhood. Despite my consciousness, my body responded, as habit told me it would, to the Leave-taking, and Me and Myself struggled with our nausea across 4000 miles of the world. As much as I fought the feelings of my teens, they remained a reality in my adult world and it took my younger self a whopping two weeks to return to her place in my memory. Exhausting, when the enemy you fight is your own, anxious self and your only weapon is the rationality of hindsight.
Today marks a huge turning point in my life. I sit writing in Addis Ababa, my connecting plane to London warming up on the tarmac. My adult self types this out: no children allowed. One difference I can pinpoint is allowing myself the concession of considering the leave-taking well in advance. In the past, denial was a good friend. The Leave-taking approached and I waited for the nausea; shaky, nervous, stomach vibrations; panic. Nothing. I got on the plane this afternoon with the sadness of saying goodbye to the people I love, but my emotions belonged to me, here and now, and there is no trauma in delighting in the wealth of people who make my world, across the world. Today I am the strong leave-taker and the passenger on this plane is myself. I can’t pinpoint other differences that make this journey so epic, except the overwhelming feeling that I have grown into my skin; and the healing that comes from validating feelings of pain, not only towards others, but towards yourself.
You can’t IMAGINE the delight!
Travelling has also been, in the past, fairly fraught emotionally, ping-ponging back and forth between the world of my relationships and the world of my obligations, half of my life spent in each and my soul yearning for some strength to do it, or the grace to transition gallantly at least.
2009 was a year of facing some of the fraught memories of years spent concealed as a Ping Pong. Most people will know that dealing with negative memories requires returning to them first. A painful experience, to delve into the past and fish out the bad stuff, confront it firmly enough that it loses its hold, and leap safely back into reality without fragments of pain clinging on tightly. There is a theory in Psychology around the idea of the Inner Child; that if you experience trauma or negative experiences before you are an adult, it is often necessary to return to that age in your emotional memory and consult the child of the experience, in order to properly deal with that pain. Having spent my teenage years flying between worlds in what I remember as being a fairly traumatised state of mind, I found it completely impossible to get on a plane as an adult without feeling the fear and abandonment of that teenager.
Six months ago, equipped with my new found knowledge of the Inner Child and built up by weeks spent coaching the negative memories from my then reality, into the past, I was encouraged to get on the plane with the teenager. As bizarre as it sounds, we sat together, me and myself, and flew from Kilimanjaro back to London: the terrifying journey of our childhood. Despite my consciousness, my body responded, as habit told me it would, to the Leave-taking, and Me and Myself struggled with our nausea across 4000 miles of the world. As much as I fought the feelings of my teens, they remained a reality in my adult world and it took my younger self a whopping two weeks to return to her place in my memory. Exhausting, when the enemy you fight is your own, anxious self and your only weapon is the rationality of hindsight.
Today marks a huge turning point in my life. I sit writing in Addis Ababa, my connecting plane to London warming up on the tarmac. My adult self types this out: no children allowed. One difference I can pinpoint is allowing myself the concession of considering the leave-taking well in advance. In the past, denial was a good friend. The Leave-taking approached and I waited for the nausea; shaky, nervous, stomach vibrations; panic. Nothing. I got on the plane this afternoon with the sadness of saying goodbye to the people I love, but my emotions belonged to me, here and now, and there is no trauma in delighting in the wealth of people who make my world, across the world. Today I am the strong leave-taker and the passenger on this plane is myself. I can’t pinpoint other differences that make this journey so epic, except the overwhelming feeling that I have grown into my skin; and the healing that comes from validating feelings of pain, not only towards others, but towards yourself.
You can’t IMAGINE the delight!
