Thoughts

In Search of Myself

/ Maria Thomas / Leave a comment

For a long time I’ve been trying to figure out how to stay in touch with my intuition and guidance system. I feel blessed to meet people who want to talk about their own spirituality and will share what gifts they hold. Sometimes, I feel so vulnerable and such an open book even if I don’t share much. I can feel that I am being read, or at least I feel like I am. Notice the difference between the feeling of being “read” and the feeling of being “judged”. I used to feel judged but that was/is my own trigger that has been brought to the forefront of my own fears.

I am also aware there are times when I feel in sync with the universe and other times I allow myself to be consumed by the noise and be distracted by things that should not be within my framework of goals. And what exactly is my framework of goals? I still don’t know. I asked myself the other day “when did I last feel alive and one with the universe?”. It was a looooonnng time ago. There are always moments that I feel in sync but now they feel like moments of continual momentum. Not in the motion/active way but a spiritual inertia.

I am finding comfort in being able to speak about my spiritual, intuitive side as more people are discussing their own. I am always in awe of the gifts that people have to hear, feel and see clearly spirit or happenings. And living in a physical world does carry baggage of that limited, trapped mindset and how everything needs to be scientifically proved or have validity in some way. Not everything has to be scientifically proved, does it? There are many that believe in a god, can we prove this existence scientifically or is this faith of something more?

I am a curious being and like to question everything within reason, not necessarily for explanations but for perspectives. My mum delved into the world of faith-healing, fortune-telling, she read cards, palms and it fascinated me but also scared me.

At present I seeking more of an understanding of how I work, my own blocks; and to allow life to unfold by deeply trusting myself and my guidance system. “Guidance system” – what does this mean? An inner voice, a sense of timing, energy and space. Also, trusting the universe has my back. Does this sound all woo woo, maybe it is but what if it isn’t. Why do people say things like “It felt like someone walked over my grave?” or “I feel like I’m having de ja vu”.
I am so grateful for many things and at this particular crunch point it is helping me with utter grief that I feel daily.

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My dad has lived with dementia and prostate cancer for the last 7-8 years and it has been the most difficult, traumatic time of my life. I can’t imagine what he is going through, how the neural pathways are disconnecting his memories, and closing off parts of who he was as a fully cognitive man. Am I denying death or am I seeking answers that will make it more acceptable?

I am conflicted, I am overwhelmed, I am cherishing all the moments I speak with him, hold his hand, hug him, see him smile because there are too many times the anger settles in. I feel he is in pain, physically, he is also probably angry to be losing his identity, basic functions of the things he used to know and do so well, so independently. He is losing himself in the physical world. How and why does this happen?

One of the things I recently learned about me, was that I was playing the victim, well at least saying something in a way to evoke sympathy and to make myself feel better, to support the fact that “I’m doing a good job as a dutiful daughter” by caring for him. I know that I have lived with a lot of guilt, shame, even hatred toward myself for not being a better daughter or a better person, for arguing with him before and after all of his diagnoses, for feeling angry for many unanswered questions, that his past was hidden from me, for not being able to say what I wanted to say or ask.

Along this journey for the last 8 years, I have learned to love myself more, take credit for fighting for dad and making sure he has a good quality of life, to uphold his dignity when needed and know that I made a choice to be there. No sad stories anymore but acknowledge the trying times, the hard times and no capacity times.

I hold myself through this time. I love myself along this path. I shine through even though another piece of me is dying, his memories are my memories. His loss is my loss. This last part of the journey has no words to describe. I’m still here. I’m making the best of the life I have.

I wrote the above during the week of 21st October 2024, I am now at 15 December 2024.

In the middle of all of this I joined an online event called ‘Alive’ by my friend Lois Tucker. She has since run a course called ‘Clarity’ which I knew I had to join as I was in the middle of grief.

My dad passed away on 26 November 2024, my sister and I were with him to see him leave peacefully. I was glad to be present and say goodbye in-person but it hurts and is one of the most difficult experiences to go through. I am now parentless, an “orphan” as a few described. Dad was buried on 28 November in accordance with his Muslim faith.

How am I? I’m not sure? I feel in limbo, I feel like I’ve grieved a lot already and I feel that I haven’t. I feel alright, I feel at peace knowing dad is at peace. I feel irritated, angry on occasions. I’m exhausted. I’ve gone back to work and welcome the distraction but could do with time off. I wish you could take paid leave for a month or so like maternity leave. My body has begun to untie itself and I can feel the aches and pains, I hadn’t before. I feel a slow decompression.

Everything has felt so surreal, in some ways I want to close my eyes and awake seeing my parents; having the chance to hug them again and tell them I love them. The transition from physical world to spiritual world is tough. I wanna hold my dad’s hand and tell him I love him and give him a cuddle. I want to feel the cool skin of my mum’s arm and tell her I love her and hold her close.

Some of my memories torture me like a time I came straight from work to the care home to see my dad before he had got into bed. I arrive just before 6pm and he called my name, Mya. Mya has always been mum and dad’s nickname for me, dad had the biggest smile on his face, I’d open the curtains and he was so happy to see me. We were talking away for the hour I was there and normally I take a photo of dad and me when I can, when he allows, allowed me to. I keep telling myself I should have captured that moment.
When I told my partner this recently, he said “if I had then I wouldn’t have been present to enjoy the moment in the way that I did”. He’s right. I had many moments with dad and feel so blessed I was able to.

Acceptance

/ Maria Thomas / Leave a comment

After completing Mastin Kipp’s 40 day ‘Claim Your Power’, I wondered if I would feel enlightened with my “Creator”, ecstatic in the my “action steps” approach to following my goals and dreams; and quit my day job. Was I excited that my relationships with my partner and family were about to elevate to the next level?
I felt the anti-climax of when an acting tour finishes and you know you’re going back to reality, the next acting job hasn’t come along yet and you have to go back to those faces in your regular job which either you dislike or the job is soul crushing.

Do I listen or read these self-development, self-empowering books because I want to find the answer to what I’m not doing right, seeking the reasons why I have not moved further along in life, to listen/read to another person tell me if I’m not “working to my goals once a week, it’s a dead dream”. Is it about my dreams?

I figured through this process it’s about my approach to everything and just like juggling human nature and the personalities of friends or the dynamics of work colleagues; it’s my approach to life.

My dad was diagnosed with dementia earlier this year, I looked at the research to prove to myself I understood the levels, the stages, the ways in which this debilitating condition can take over. It’s a slow burn of fire dying out on a summer’s day, at its height it’s beautiful, powerful and sometimes uncontainable and at it’s low it’s ash blowing in the wind returning to the motherland. What am I doing about it? I’m trying to control it, the doctor is trying to control it and for the first time in my life, I don’t feel unhappy and alone. Is that strange? The support from the NHS has been great, the support from my partner has been incredible.

I’m able to take my Dad to acting classes, memory cafes, dance and fitness classes (with the help of another reluctant family member). We have got him a diary so he can write things in to remind himself of what he’s doing daily and who he’s spending time with.
The biggest impact and stress for me is knowing which are the important parts, hospital/doctor appointments etc. Since my Dad came home from Mauritius in 2014, the last four years have been applying to the council for a home, sorting his pension out, him being diagnosed with prostate cancer and then this year dementia. I wonder if life has it in for me but it’s not me it’s happening to, it’s him. I cry and want to scream and shout at the world “why is it all on me?” and it’s because somewhere along the journey, I have become the responsible adult in all situations, and the roles have reversed.  I wonder how I can put yourself first, stay on top of my health and deal with anymore? I can’t and I have to get on and find the time when I can. It’s not about complaining, it’s allowing yourself to feel frustrated and not beating yourself up for the guilt that is totally out of your control, and out of your hands.

So, back to the book, what has it taught me in isolation to this area of my life, “Acceptance”. A really difficult area to understand in it’s full limited, restrictive layers unless you understand yourself to a degree. “Acceptance” is the most enlightening area of my life right now. I find it difficult because it brings its friends “control” and “judgement” to back itself up every time but it’s my fears of this that has been difficult to acknowledge. Accepting, what I cannot change, the future. But I can change the here and now by looking at it through a different lens. I never thought I’d be talking to my Dad about his “After Care Plan”, they are ask questions, you’ve never been prepared to ask your parents before, “How do you want to receive NHS treatment, do you want to be resuscitated, do you want the doctors to give you all the medications available” and so on. About his Will and what he wants to leave to people, about all sorts, and i am glad to say thank gawd I found out about the Death cafe, because it helps to talk about death openly.

All my Dad can hear when I ask him about his personal life and history is suspicion, and he asks “why? Why is it difficult to see loved ones suffer, it’s because the conflict starts with ourselves, our views, opinions, judgements, influences. The reality is he cannot change, he’s not a man that understands how to to talk about his emotions and never really understood others. He’s complicated and has a limited view of the world because he doesn’t really engage in conversation to know who people are or understand the world around him.  So, if anyone had to change, it was down to me, I don’t want to be the dutiful daughter anymore, I don’t want to pat myself on the back and say “I was there when he really needed me”. I want to be more than this, so I realised it was time to create new memories, however short lived they might be.

I am creating new memories of fun. I never thought of my Dad as a scared, frightened, and stressed man knowing that life is coming to a close. Maybe we never really think about the time when our bodies will start to close down, and stop working in the way we hope it always will. How do you admit, you can’t remember people, places, things? How do you talk about death when you’ve never really discussed it with family?

I am really lucky to still have my Dad, he isn’t an extreme case at the moment, he still remembers, still gets about, still cognitive. I have to find ways in which he can answer questions that are too much for him all at once. I sat with him yesterday whilst putting on a TENS machine for his achy muscles and played some music from different periods of our lives and showed him old photographs. A simple action but really worth putting the time in. I recalled that all through my life at home, two of the most prominent memories I grew up with was music and photo albums. Dad had created those memories for us and now it was time to remind him of those memories and create new ones for him. It is time to have fun with him whilst I still can and because whatever time I have left, I don’t want it to be about appointments, doctors, medication and duty.

‘The Good Enough Mother’

/ Maria Thomas / Leave a comment

With a background in acting everything I write has music to it, or rather in my head as I write. Cancion De La Noche

I love reading and I don’t ever read enough but there always comes a time when perusing a book from someone you know can make reading that bit more special.  ‘The Good Enough Mother’  was certainly a piece I was looking forward to reading as I hadn’t spoken to the writer, Anoushka Beazley for some years; and was just genuinely excited to see someone who I had crossed paths with doing extremely well!  I think sometimes, the worry is that someone will read/see your creative output and dislike it. But we put ourselves out there, sometimes with our hearts on our sleeves and not only take risks but hope to connect with the reader in some aspect.

The story opens with Drea who becomes a single, non biological parent to Ava over night due to her Teacher boyfriend who runs off with his Research Assistant to live in France. Drea’s character is funny, dark, sarcastic and shows the sad complexities of humanity that reside in all of us. Why did I love this novel, well firstly I could hear Anoushka’s voice, and even though I hadn’t seen or spoken to Anoushka, it was great to hear her voice in Drea. Secondly, the story of Drea has so much heart and made me seriously think of ‘Motherhood’.

I lost my Mum several years ago and it’s still difficult to know she is not here anymore, that I can’t take her shopping, meet up in a coffee shop, have family get togethers, or simply share my life with her. I contemplate whether I will be a ‘Mum’, ‘Mummy’ or ‘Mother one day, to my kids or someone else’s. Do I want to be a Mum? I ask myself “why this has not physicalised?” I blame the notion of not meeting the man who has wanted to have this “lifestyle” with me, but is this fair?  Did I meet him but not clarify my needs? I always said “never say never to kids” when someone asked me, but then some how the cycle of men in my life that I attracted were the guys who could never commit, disliked children maybe because they hadn’t grown up themselves or possess the required emotional maturity,  or had kids already and didn’t want anymore.

As with Drea’s story I could associate with other issues that perhaps prevent us as in ‘I’ from making those clear decisions. Maybe it was never high up on my priority list, maybe I thought it would happen naturally, maybe I didn’t think I would be a good Mum  or be any good at being tied down and didn’t want to repeat the mistakes of my parents. So, “fear” prevented me? Maybe because my parents were so adamant on me having a career and in doing so gravitated towards people who wanted to take rather than share. Maybe my needs became second to their needs?

With main characters in novels, conversations happen in their head which only the audience can hear and identify with. When I started this post I was debating on whether to call it “Conversations in my Head” partly because we all have them and I do try to stem the demonic ones; but this is about how “The Good Enough Mother” stirred emotions and thoughts I have had all of my life. Maybe because my biological clock is ticking, maybe it has ticked? Oh look, there’s one more thing I cannot add to the bucket list but if I could, would I? Probably yes, most definitely yes if there was someone who wanted this with me. But unwittingly I chose and choose the men who do not and that is one of the most painful decisions I live with daily.

Drea’s internal dialogue is utterly insightful, I guess this is why I connect with her. There are reflective moments that made me feel completely broken, the way we compartmentalise so much until we are forced to confront our issues. The mirrored moment is never necessarily with a person or situation but pages in a book, a scene in a film, even down to the most boring of chores can have you crying because something you read in a novel made you think. Denying how we truly feel about our circumstances and who we are, and whom with we can be ourselves. Sometimes, being alone is preferable than being around people who constantly judge you, analyse you or your situation, who offer advice when it’s not needed or asked for – “The fixers”.

Drea deals with her problems internally, and I wonder if this is a symptom of modern life. We feel guilty for sharing our problems, we consider it “dumping”.  We feel a failure if a relationship has broken down, there’s always blame. We feel shame for not being what Society says we should be, in a relationship that leads to marriage, children, financial and domestic security. There’s nothing wrong with wanting them but there’s equally nothing wrong without having them.

The fear is not loneliness or am I settling for second best or wondering if I had made different choices would I be somewhere else? The thoughts are what if there is someone out there who wants to live the life I want to live, should I keep searching? Maybe I do want to be a Mum? Maybe I just want security because I never had it as a child or growing up? Maybe being a Mum will fill the loss of not having one? Maybe I still don’t know and it’s okay to not know especially if you’ve been through the “I thought I’d met the one” phase and they turn out not to be.

Drea wants to be provide for Ava and though there are lots of ways she doesn’t see, in so many ways she does. She’s responsible, she cares, she admits to not being the ‘typical’ parent that gets stuck in with PTA or makes friends with other mothers for the sake of school. But there is something in Ava’s need to belong and be part of something that also resonates with me. Maybe it’s being a Mother, maybe it’s to say I did well, maybe because there is nothing left of me after I have gone and maybe that’s they way it is and should be. Why does their need to be a legacy of Maria Thomas? There doesn’t.

‘The Good Enough Mother’ is definitely about the human condition and the complexities of how our minds work. The trauma of childhood, the confusion within ourselves by not really knowing sometimes who we really are and we come from, our parents/families influence on our lives or non-existent parents/families in our lives. It all seems to boil down to who am I? Who I am can be anything I want it to be, how I live and whom I live it with is my choice as long as I am happy why should it matter? Who put the time clock in my body and do I have to listen to them? Listening to the conversations in my head can be harmful or amazing, and everyday I have to consciously choose to listen to the voice that keeps me going.

Thank you Anoushka, if ever I do become a Mum, I hope I remember like Drea, it’s okay  to fall as long as I remember to pick myself up and carry on.

For a moment

/ Maria Thomas / Leave a comment

For a moment intuition kicked in, the reality I will never be a part

of your blood, life or family

for a moment I’m not a part

of your life, your circle, your photos

for this moment I do not exist

I am, I was and still a memory, a shell of existence

for a moment I’m empty, tired, numb, fucked off

for a moment, my soul is crying, dying fighting the truth, the lie,

the made up scene in my head

for a moment my world shattered, crumbled, died or

did I face the undeniable inconsolable truth

the truth thats always been there, my fears

that ensnare, that encapsulate

that slaughter, that stabs the heart of me

me, who am I in the picture, no one, this picture

of family that stands, no one, that’s happy, that exists without me

me, who is me. No one, nothing of importance. Noted, that’s me.