Confession: I struggle to know what to do when I see homeless people. Can you relate?

Two nights ago I was coming home from a group meditation and I experienced something that almost made me come undone. It was 10pm on a bitterly cold winter's night, teeming with rain, and there was a homeless man on his knees proffering a paper cup to the thighs of dallying drunks and harried corporates rushing by for shelter. I crossed the road to give him $5 and, in a soft, gentle voice completely incongruous with someone who is living a hard life, he thanked me and said he hoped I got home safely. I have never felt more guilty for having a home to go to. I had to turn away because my eyes were leaking for reasons that had nothing to do with the rain.   

There are so many homeless people around Sydney – particularly noticeable at this time of year, when it’s so cold – and sometimes walking to work in the city past so many people hiding under tattered blankets is to run an emotional gauntlet. I do give money to a few of them on a regular basis, but there are so many that I have to limit it to only two people, and I have to admit I do find myself subsiding into a state of compassion fatigue.

Basically, I become so used to seeing people in these wretched conditions that it has become normal to me. Which means I do nothing to help, despite my life of extraordinary privilege. Note to self: there is nothing normal about this level of human suffering. 

I know people who refuse to give money to homeless people on the assumption that they will only spend the money on ice (that’s the drug Americans know as meth, and New Zealanders know as P). I have always thought that it’s not my place to judge someone for what they do with their money, and frankly, if someone is on a street corner dressed in rags and reeking of urine, they need my gold coins far, far more than I do. There’s nothing I can do with that meagre amount of money that will hold as much value to me as it will for someone living in the depths of despair, whose entire existence depends on the kindness of strangers. That said, I have no judgement towards people who opt not to give their money to homeless people. Your money is your own, and you’re certainly not obliged to give it to anyone.

I think I harden my heart against the homeless sometimes out of a fear that it will upset me (for good reason). For that reason, my response typically goes one of two ways: I’ll hurry by and distract myself so I don’t look (which makes me feel guilty). Or I’ll give money but practically throw it at them, speeding off before I can hear them speak to me. I know logically that I can only give so much (although I could certainly do with giving more than I have been) and I can’t help everyone, so my guilt is misguided – not to mention unhelpful. I also know that, in truth, kindness isn’t really kindness if I’m giving begrudgingly or defensively. It would probably be more valuable to actually have a conversation with homeless people, ask them questions and listen to their opinions, to remind them that they matter (we all need to be reminded of that, actually), and perhaps bring them a sandwich, a banana and a newspaper. This is one solution I’m considering.

It’s pretty clear by my increasing discomfort levels that I need to change my approach to this morally complex situation, and I don’t think money is the answer.

The ‘how’ is probably less important than the ‘why’. And the ‘why’ is because compassion is one of my fundamental beliefs. Mother Teresa knew a thing or two about kindness so I’ll throw to her now: “I prefer you to make mistakes in kindness than work miracles in unkindness.”

Quite.

Believing in the happy ending when you're halfway through the scary book

When you Google the word ‘trust’, the fourth thing that comes up (behind ‘trust deeds’, ‘trust definition’and ‘trust tax return’) is ‘trust issues’. Oh Google, you know me so well. 

I’m one of those people who flips to the last page of a book when the drama gets intense, and Googles the plot summary of a movie if it gets too nail-bitey. You’d think that would reassure me. But, no. Even when I know the story’s going to end brilliantly, I still skim-read/skip through the uncomfortable parts. It’s as if I can’t quite believe that everything really is going to work out.

Despite years of reading metaphysical texts, communicating with angels and now working with energy, trusting the Universe to sort out my problems remains a major stumbling block for me. On the surface, this makes no sense – I’ve already seen proof that the Universe has my back, again and again and again. But even though I believe a perfect outcome is possible, there’s a part of me that doesn’t believe that it’s probable. 

Whenever I find myself on my knees in particularly difficult periods, the message I get from the angels, again and again and again, is along these lines: ‘Trust us. Let go. It’s going to be fine.’ I believe them, but I’m also doubtful. Which is normal. It’s not possible, I don’t think, to have a learning experience or challenge that isn’t accompanied by at least a small degree of fear. The trick is learning to let go of the fear so it doesn’t hold you back from living a big life. All I have to do is have faith and relinquish control over the outcome… if only it were that easy!

Here’s the problem – when I worry, fret and despair, I’m getting in my own way. My negative energy increases, blocking solutions and contributing to an adverse result.

There’s a quote that gets bashed about on social media all the time and it goes like this: ‘Everything will be OK in the end. If it’s not OK, it’s not the end.’ This is posted endlessly because it’s true – even though things may not work out exactly how you had imagined, they’ve worked out the way they were supposed to. And often that’s better than you had imagined, or there’s something better coming up. In either outcome, you will be OK. You are always OK. (I’m saying this to you guys, but I’m sure you realise I’m really saying it to myself.)

I dealt out the ‘trust’ card in an angel card reading the other day and I was told that that message was for me as well as the person I was reading for. That message was: trust it is all going to be OK.

And it will. I’ve already been told my business is going to thrive. I’ve already been told I’m going to meet the perfect man for me. Therefore, there’s nothing to worry about, right? Right? RIGHT?!

Everything is under control. Not my control, but that’s probably for the best. (It’s fair to say the Universe does a better job of running my life than I do.)

And then they all lived happily ever after. 

What I've been dreaming about, and what it means

Dreams are so weird, right? Sometimes they're batshit crazy... but sometimes they contain important messages. My reiki instructor suggested I start keeping a dream journal so I can look for patterns in my dreams. That’s because a lot of emotional healing takes place while you sleep, and the more you work with energy healing, as I am doing, the better your ability to tune into that process becomes.

I’ve been recording my dreams for three weeks now and there’s a very clear pattern emerging – dreams about me cleaning. This sounds boring but it’s actually really powerful – it’s all about me getting rid of the old to make room for the new.

In one dream I was clearing out boxes of stuff from my house. I picked up a rat and two mice (ew!) and gave them to an unrecognisable friend, telling him I needed to get rid of them. This is significant because rodents symbolise undesirable elements – so basically this was me getting rid of ‘dirt’ in my life. Last night I dreamed I was cleaning a mouldy salt shaker in a holiday house in Tenerife (weirdly specific, I know) so the next people could use it. This is awesome because it’s about me getting rid of dirt (which I think speaks to my current process of improving my self-esteem and challenging negative thought patterns) in order to help other people. And given that my new career is all about helping people move through emotional blocks, that’s symbolic.

Not all dreams are significant, but usually the ones that are really vivid and contain powerful symbols are worth examining. And any that recur, or with a pattern that recurs (such as my ‘cleaning’ theme), are your subconscious sending you a very clear message too.

I’d love to hear about any dreams you’re having – post below or drop me a line  if you’re keen to share xx

Does social media make us narcissists? No, but it can reveal a lot about how we view ourselves

When it comes to narcissism, there is perhaps no more endearing example in the world than Kanye West. Pop culture’s king of self-aggrandisement once declared that he wished to describe his profession as ‘creative genius’ on immigration arrival forms – but he didn’t know how to spell the word ‘genius’ (lol). 

Narcissism is something I’ve been thinking about lately because I’ve seen a few columns fretting that our obsession with selfies and documenting the minutiae of our lives online is creating a generation of narcissists. I don’t agree. 

Firstly, a definition – because narcissism is not, despite popular belief, the same as arrogance or just plain bad behaviour. During a discussion at the recent Sydney Writer’s Festival, social commentator Anne Manne (author of Life of I: The New Culture of Narcissism) offered these defining characteristics (among others): having a sense of superiority; a sense of entitlement; a feeling that you’re entitled to exploit others; and a desperate desire to gain attention to prove you are really significant – which is where social media use really comes under the microscope.

Brene Brown, leading researcher in the field of vulnerability, describes narcissism as “a shame-based fear of being ordinary”. At its core, she writes, narcissism is driven by a fear of not being enough.

I’m not sure what this says about the industry I’m in, but I’ve worked with more than a few people who fit into the narcissism category. And I’ve certainly seen people – from differing age groups – use social media as a platform for relentless self-promotion, which can be uncomfortable for me to observe. But even though many commentators have identified a correlation between social media and narcissism, I don’t think that means social media *breeds* narcissism, as such.

My opinion is that although there’s a good argument for all of us pulling back on our social media use and engaging more in face-to-face interactions, wanting to showcase your life online isn’t necessarily unhealthy. That said, if you feel like you are reliant on multiple ‘likes’ to feel valued – and feel like you don’t matter if you don’t achieve that – you could probably do with asking yourself some reflective questions. The way you use social media might be a symptom, rather than a cause, of a disconnect between what you think you have to offer the world and the unquantifiable, exquisite value you bring to the world every day simply by virtue of being yourself.

I did a social media detox a while ago and although it was short-lived (obviously) this did change the way I approach Facebook, Twitter and Instagram in a lasting way. Thankfully, I’ve never had the problem of aligning my sense of worth with my social media ‘reach’ or approval ratings – but my sense of self-worth has certainly struggled as a direct result of how I was using social media. The result was me feeling deeply inadequate for not having a life as glamorous or as exciting or as love-filled as other people ‘appear’ – and the key word here is ‘appear’ – to have. The good thing is, I was able to recognise that although Instagram et al were making me feel crap about myself, that was really a result of my low self-esteem – social media was merely exacerbating an existing problem. Which I’m taking steps to address, BTW. Understanding and honouring my value as a human being, and not using other people’s lives nor societal expectations as a yardstick for that, is an ongoing process for me.*

By the way, going back to the narcissism thing (in case you needed some reassurance)... if you’re worried you’re a narcissist, you’re not. Because if you were a narcissist you wouldn’t have enough self-awareness to even consider yourself one. (Good to know.)

I’m not really sure where this leaves Kanye, but I love his music, regardless.

* Read my blog post on comparison syndrome in relation to social media here.

Help! I think I just did something brave... and I'm terrified!

Ever done something bold and thrilling and daring, then woken up the next day and thought, ‘what the hell have I done?!’

I’m not talking about a party flashback (although, God knows…). I’m talking about the big life-changing decisions that force you into a frightening place of immense vulnerability where your future no longer seems secure as it was. The result: terror and regret. But mostly terror.

Yesterday I signed a lease on a practice room at a holistic health centre in Inner West Sydney, from which I’ll be offering reiki and angel card readings, two days a week. I’d been talking about doing this for months, and I think everyone was as bored with the subject as I was. It was time to put up or shut up. So I did. I put down a hefty deposit and signed a lease which I’m bound to for a year. At the time I felt emboldened, confident and optimistic. But within hours I had that gut-wrenching ‘oh-God-what-have-I-done’ feeling. I don’t need to tell you this is a significant financial risk on my part. There’s also more than a small element of emotional risk too – if I don’t get a healthy client base I’m going to look and feel like a failure. 

As the landlord was asking me about my target audience (um, anyone with a pulse?) and my marketing plan (don’t even know what that is), I suddenly realised I’m in way over my head. I do not have a single client, and I don’t know the first thing about how to get any. I know I’m good at energy healing and angel communication (well, so my feedback indicates) but I also know ability and talent are immaterial if you can’t get anyone to walk through your door.

Guys, this is terrifying. The only thing keeping me from having a full-blown panic attack is the faintest hope that this *just might* work out. And the sense that if I don’t give it a go, I’ll always wonder whether it might have.

In a way, this reminds me of last year when I quit Auckland and moved to Sydney – a decision which also defied logic and threw me into an uncertain future, both financially and personally. And here I am again, staring at a foggy road ahead. Feeling woefully unprepared, but mildly buoyed by some brilliant person's quote that goes something like this: ‘No one is ever really ready for anything’. I’m whispering that silently, and often, to my Richter-scale-level thudding heart.

I know how much is riding on me backing myself and promoting my skills, and I’m genuinely unsure whether I can do that. There’s only one way to find out.