X, Y and Z – Reflections on the Stuff of Life
Plus a reminder about Wednesday's mindset training – don't miss this brilliantly useful mindset tool.
Hi there, if you’re new here, welcome to ‘Something More’. I’m Caroline Ferguson, therapist and mindset trainer. I share mindset tips and personal tales, based on my passionate curiosity for exploring what ‘a life that matters’ might look like. If you’d like to read more of my posts, or benefit from monthly mindset group-coaching sessions, please subscribe.
I started this post three times in my head.
While walking through a lovely piece of ancient Dorset woodland this afternoon, chewing on what to write about this week, X was very much on my mind, as has been the case a lot recently. OK, I thought. It’s another tender one, but I could write about that.
But then Y chimed in. No, me! Write about me!
Closely followed by Z muscling in and demanding a voice.
So I’m including all of them. As a result this will be a more episodic post than usual.
Let’s start with Y – your response to my last free post.
‘Love is a Neural Pathway’ was by far the most personal piece I’ve shared with you. I’d been sitting on it for more than a year, since I started this Substack, and I hemmed and hawed until the very last second, hesitant finger hovering over the ‘post the damned thing now!’ button.
How glad am I that I pressed ‘go’? Extremely, because it struck a chord.
Nearly a dozen of you told me the post landed strongly, and generously shared your personal stories with me. A few commented directly on the post; more contacted me privately.
Going by your heartfelt responses, many of you have felt the crushing agony of a heartbreak you’ve struggled to get past; trapped by a huge neural pathway flinging pain at you.
It’s not just romantic loss either. I heard from a person grieving for a loved one who’s passed on, and another who’s estranged from their family.
Thank you all so much for sharing your experiences with me. Many of you took heart from the idea that we can create new neural pathways, and lessen and move on from the pain of a lost relationship.
If you can’t bring yourself to believe recovery is possible for you, please read and bookmark this article. I promise you, there’s a way forward.
To my new friend ‘S’, whom I met yesterday, you absolutely can do this!
Now for Z – Today is the astrological start of autumn in the northern hemisphere
I’m writing this on Sunday evening and it’s the autumn equinox, half-way between the summer and winter solstices, when day and night in the northern hemisphere are of equal length. Today is also the astrological end of summer and the start of autumn.
It seems fitting that I drove past Stonehenge twice yesterday. The first time, the sun came out after a morning of rain and illuminated the stones as I crawled past them in the perpetual traffic jam that runs alongside the henge, especially during solstices. The second time, the sun was beginning to set and the stones were golden and lovely.
(I confess, Stonehenge isn’t my favourite ancient stone circle. That crown is shared by nearby Avebury and the wonderful 5,000 year old Rings of Brodgar and Stenness in Orkney – we’re spoilt for henges in the UK. But I was glad to see the stones yesterday and it felt apt to be there at this time.)
I find this such an evocative time of year. For many, the end of summer heralds the start of a new school year, and a time when businesses are launching new products and campaigns. A time to refresh and renew and relaunch, almost like our antipodean friends, who are embracing spring.
Not me. The days are still warm and golden here in the south west of England, but I feel a strong pull for true autumn to arrive. It’s time to begin lowering the energy a little and preparing for the dark returning. To start folding inwards and reflecting. Time to dial up the self-care; to let go of what needs to be released.
What does this time of year mean for you? Are you embracing ‘up’ energy? Or, like me, drawn to turn down the volume?
And finally, X – further reflections on taking up space.
A wonderful person I know is living out her last weeks of life. Last year, eight people I knew left this earthly dimension. There was plenty of grieving but this one is preoccupying me in a different way.
I’ve known T for 30 years, since she head-hunted me from a competitor. She started off as my boss and quickly became a mentor. More importantly, from the first minute of meeting, we recognised each other as a friend.
I coaxed her into recruiting my small team and they were similarly enfolded. She is, by some distance, the best CEO any of us has ever worked with, and one of the best humans we’ve ever known.
We became a little gang of five women who, right from the start, have always had each others’ backs. There’s so much love and solidarity among us, despite an age spread of nearly 20 years.
Over the last three decades we’ve been witness to marriages, births of children and grandchildren, divorce, and changes in jobs and careers. We’ve had some hairy adventures and laughed until we almost wet ourselves. We’ve met for dozens of lunches, talked for hundreds of hours and downed many (many) bottles of (always good) wine. During covid, our meetings temporarily moved online but the full quota of love, laughs and wine were present.
Through it all we’ve cheered each other on and commiserated through the tougher moments – and there’ve been a fair few of those. The one thing we haven’t had to face is really serious illness. Considering cancer affects one in two humans, it’s remarkable we’ve managed to dodge that bullet for so long, but it’s hit us now, and hit us hard.
A few weeks ago T told us the devastating news that no further treatment is possible. We are desolate. Our mothership is falling from the sky. Our hearts are breaking for T, her family and the many who love her.
Trying to make sense of it, I felt an urge to re-read an article I wrote last winter, at the end of the year of all those losses, about how we can choose to take up space in the world. It brought me a surprising amount of comfort so I wanted to share it with you again.
This was the conclusion I came to:
After much reflection, I see how we occupy space as the value we deliver to the world, multiplied by the value we receive from doing so.
By that measure, our darlingest T, you have always taken up a colossal volume of space, and you’ll continue to do that in the hearts, minds and memories of all of us who love you.
If you’re struggling with a loss, or you’re unwell (or someone you know is ill), or curious about the notion of how you take up space, I recommend you have a read.
Don’t forget, our live mindset training is on Weds 25th September at 8pm UK time.
Paying members have access to a 75-minute live Zoom call each month. During these sessions we focus on topics that help you develop mindset and emotional self-regulation skills, and build the #1 life skill of self-awareness. We also have a library of recordings of past trainings.
After the teaching part of the session, you can ask me anything you want. We have some fantastic discussions, which are not recorded.
On Wednesday I’ll be sharing one of my absolute favourite tools with you: BRAIN MINING.
Faced with a number of options and don’t know which way to go? Got a problem you don’t know how to solve? Feeling stuck and helpless?
Brain mining can help you extract gold solutions from your creative mind.
The Zoom link is in last week’s article and I’ll be sending a reminder in a day or two.
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Heartfelt thanks to each one of you for reading this post. Please add a comment if any of this has resonated with you, and I hope you’ll share if you think others might benefit.
‘Til next time, take care,
Really beautiful, Caroline. Thank you for sharing. You’ve got a heavy emotional load to carry right now, but you do so with grace and bravery. Your friend sounds like such a very special soul and I hope hers is a peaceful journey from this world. I love the idea of how we occupy space in our lives, and even after we move on. The energy remains.❤️