Attachment styles – how they mess you up, how they mess your children up, and how they mess the world up

The psychological world has in recent years delved ever deeper into the concept of attachment styles, and as someone who resides in one of the insecure quadrants, I personally find it fascinating.  So, like most things I find fascinating, I’ve opted to write about it.  This is a big, and it’s hellish important.  I want everyone in the world to read this.  Maybe that’s ambitious, but until everyone in the world understands this the world is doomed to suffer.  You suffer.  I suffer.  The planet suffers.  We all suffer.  Maybe it has to be that way, but I’ll be damned if I don’t keep on trying to reduce the amount of suffering, and increase the amount of love.  If ever was a time that this is needed it is now.  Share this post, not for me, not for you, but for the world.  Do it as an offering of love to those who need to read it (which is nearly everyone).

Studies over and over and over again have shown that there are essentially four key attachment styles, and we know that they are largely programmed before a child is eighteen months old, but that the psychological development of an attachment style continues until the child is three.  After that, they’re a bit more resilient and ready to handle the world a lot more effectively without the careful eye of the primary care giver on them all the time.

How incredible is this!  That the most important determinant in a child’s ability to give and receive love, and ultimately, be happy as an adult is largely driven by the access to unconditional love from the primary care giver whenever it is needed in the first three years of life.  This means, essentially, that the main thing a parent has to do is to be there most of the time, and be present, mentally, when they are.  It sounds simple, but for many of us it’s the hardest thing.

I could go referencing a bunch of studies and articles on this, lord knows I’ve read enough, but I’m going to invite you instead to go do your own research.  Take your own action.  Take responsibility.  Maybe you know this already (you do, intuitively, know that your child needs you there, and needs you attentive, it’s built into our DNA, but many of us have forgotten, or have lost touch with our intuition).  Maybe you need a reminder.  A reminder to stop fretting about work, or money, or god knows what else.  Stop fretting full stop.  If you fret, your child frets.  Anxious parents create anxious children, who become anxious adults, who have children…and so the cycle continues.  I know you want what’s best for your child/children, so if the content below speaks to you, you’ll go study up.  Look up attachment styles.  Read the work of Gabor Mate on childhood trauma.

But first, read the rest of this.

If you were triggered, then take a moment, close your eyes, breathe a couple of deep breaths and remind yourself that is isn’t an attack on you, this is merely a man in Australia sitting down to write some stuff that might help you, and your family to enjoy a better standard of happiness and contentment in your lives.  To create more fulfilling relationships.  If you don’t agree with it, that’s fine, but it’s no reason to get angry, that’s just your ego talking.  If you don’t agree, that’s cool, I’m not offended, you’re entitled to your opinion, I really don’t care what you think of me.  Cool, now that’s out of the way, let’s crack on.

Until recently, many parents, especially in the West, had got into the habit of handing their babies over to childminders and childcare facilities 6-12 months after they have been born, in order to protect their careers, in order to be able to pay the bills.  Some mothers simply wanted to go back to their careers because they loved their careers, but did they realise what impact this might have on their young children?  How it may damage the ability of their offspring to be happy?  How it may drive their offspring towards a life of substance addiction, loneliness or chronic lone wolf syndrome, or both? (I’m not sure if that is a syndrome, but it should be, humans are social creatures who desire intimate relationships when we’re physically and emotionally healthy).  Do these these mothers realise that they are essentially saying “yes, I value my career over the future happiness of my child?”.  I would hazard to guess not. It’s likely more of a case of: “well, it’s the done thing, so and so put their’s into childcare and they seem fine, and anyway I’m just too busy/bored to not”

Yes, of course kids need a roof over their heads and food in their bellies, but everything else, the toys, the expensive education, the expensive holidays, the activities, blah blah blah, ultimately are of secondary importance.  All the shit people work themselves into the ground in order to provide for their kids, in order for them to be happy, is actually just fluff.  The kids need happy, present parents primarily.  Don’t sweat the other stuff.  When people become a parent they have one job:

A parent’s responsibility is to create a safe, happy and loving environment for the child.  A child’s responsibility is to be loved, that is all, nothing more.

Read that again.  A child is not responsible for a parent’s happiness.  A child is not responsible for making an adult feel loved, or worthy.  As soon as a parent places that responsibility on their child it creates a dysfunctional relationship with love within that child.  The child will either seek to distance itself from the demands love, it won’t trust love, or it will start to believe they are not enough, not worthy of love, unless they give lots of love first, if they’re really well behaved, or really funny (lots of comedians found their skill from this lack of self love).  Of course that doesn’t mean a parent should molly-coddle a child, give in to its demands, or shower it with gifts and expensive toys.  Oh no, no, no!  The parent’s job is to raise that child to be secure and ready to go out into the world.  The child’s job is to learn, learn they are loved, how to receive love (which in turn will teach them how to give it too – clever huh), and how to be responsible.  They’ll do that naturally if the parents’ create a safe and loving and educational environment for them.

For a child below the age of three, a safe and loving environment looks like one where the primary care giver is there, and the primary care giver is happy to be there.  If that isn’t available, what happens is the child either becomes self-sufficient, and works out how to be okay without love from a parent.  They can’t trust in love, and will likely go on to reject it throughout their lives, or find themselves in relationships with insecure people, and thus don’t really give themselves to the relationship.  Or, the child becomes anxious, desperately, constantly looking outwards for the love that isn’t there.  This is more prevalent with children who have mothers who are anxious themselves.  These children will learn that love is not available, and has to be worked for, like they had to work to gain the attention of their anxious-preoccupied parent.  These children will become clingy, needy, desperate, anxious, scared, and more prone to sickness.  These children don’t believe themselves to be worthy of love, so they become people pleasers, constantly sacrificing themselves for the good of others, to their own detriment.

There is a big difference between being ‘there’ physically, and being present, mentally, in the moment.  Presence takes attention.  And we live in a world increasingly dominated by distraction, so put down the phone, (if you do this) stop photographing and filming them constantly.  Do you remember how you used to feel when your Mum took your photo?  I hated it.  Kids don’t like it, so if you keep doing it, they won’t like you.  Presence requires the parent to be secure in themselves.  If you don’t like you are then your kids will pick up on that, they’re smarter emotionally than us a lot of the time.  If you don’t like you, then on a subconscious level they’ll struggle to understand why they should like you.

The fourth, and mercifully small minority group, is the children who become both avoidant of love, and anxious of not being enough to be loved.  Those children simultaneously go out into the world constantly looking for the love, and when it comes to them, they reject it.  It’s tragic, and for the 1-2% who fall into that category (although I suspect that category is growing bigger and bigger) they are confined to lifetime of anxiety and loneliness.  It’s not a good place to be, I know, personally, because I have spent my life residing in that category.  I’m gradually working my way out of it, but I am an anxious person, a people pleaser, and I also reject anyone who wants to love me.  Instead I have in the past gone looking for love from the very people who don’t want to give it to me.  And I became sick, chronically sick.  Stress and loneliness will do that do a person.  That being said, I’ve become conscious of all this because I got so sick I could no longer function.  So I went looking for answers in the form of this blog, and then in the form of exploring the mind, and body, and the nature of who we are as humans, and how we operate.  Hello yoga! Hello Tony Robbins!  Two years on, my people pleasing ways are on the wane.  My openness to love is on the rise.  I am gradually starting to re-learn through meditation and hypnosis that I am enough, that I am lovable, and that I want to love someone who respects and loves me back.  I don’t want to be with someone who doesn’t see my value.  I have a huge amount of love to give, to everyone, and that’s why I’m writing this post.  I’m not here to please you, but I am here to serve you.  If you don’t like it, then, well, tough, you’re free to leave.  If you do like it then stay.  I’ll love you regardless, because that’s what unconditional love is.

I’ve said some potentially triggering things there, so it’s probably time to close your eyes, take a few deep breaths, chill out, and then I’ll introduce you to the matrix with the four quadrants that will explain it all.  I’ll briefly run you through the four styles and what it may mean for you:

The secure – roughly 55-60% of the population

Sweet!  The lucky ones, keep working at being comfortable in your own skin, and focus your energy on sending your cherished and most important love outwards, you can afford to give it, because for you, it’s unlimited.  You can draw down on your infinite supply of the good stuff and give it to others.  Be grateful every day for this most wonderful of gifts.  This is literally the best thing you have, forget the houses, the cars, the toys, even your family.  You have the most important thing in the universe – use it for good!  Become conscious of this gift, and use that consciousness to extend compassion and kindness to those who did not receive the same gift you did.  Sadly, many of the people in this camp look at the people in the other camps and label them as bad people.  It’s not true, we’re all born pure, it’s the societal programming that turns people ‘bad’.  At their core they’re still good, and they can be saved.

The dismissive-avoiders – roughly 20% of the population

I see you. I hear you.  You’re confident, you get shit done, you’re motivated, you don’t need no one, life is all good.  BUT (there’s always a but) you find yourselves in relationships with people who are needy and anxious, which drives you mad so you run away, again, and again, until you’re so exhausted that you give up on love completely, or  find someone who is unavailable, and then you have this mediocre relationship where both of you kinda don’t give a shit.  It’s okay, but it ain’t exactly the stuff we dream of.  These people are sometimes drawn to saving others, they become heroes, because that fills the hole in their heart.  In other cases they become happy hermits, recluses who live life alone and are fairly okay with it.  These people need to learn how to trust in love, if they want to grow that is.  They need to lose their fear of love  (I can help with this)

The anxious-preoccupied – roughly 20% of the population

I see you.  I hear you.  You’re anxious.  You’re preoccupied.  But you also care so damn much about everyone else being happy, you care so damn much that you forget to care about your own happiness.  But you want it too, don’t you?  You want the love back that you so generously give, you want it, but you never seem to get it, because you demand it, sometimes vocally, often silently.  Without realising it you say “I gave you all this love, you owe me!”.  It pushes people away doesn’t it, because they never signed up to the unwritten contract you have with them in your head.  It drives you mad, because you just want to love and be loved, but it just doesn’t feel that happens, no matter what you try.  Because you don’t love yourself.  You never learnt that it was okay to just be you.  You are enough.  You don’t HAVE to DO anything.  I also know I can tell you this till I’m blue in the face and you still won’t believe me when I say you are enough.  And that’s okay, because you have this belief that you’re not enough in your subconscious from when you were a baby/toddler.  These people need to learn to love themselves (I can help with this)

The fearful-avoiders – roughly 1-2% of the population (and growing)

I see you. I hear you. You’re anxious, you’re preoccupied.  You are very similar to the group above, except unlike them (they’ll grab on to it), when love comes your way, you run away from it, like the dismissive avoiders.  You constantly go looking externally for the love that you don’t have for yourself, but when you do find it you run away and go looking for someone to confirm that you’re not lovable – you actively seek out people who won’t love you back, and that confirms the belief that you have in your subconscious.  You give up, exhausted, focus on yourself for a bit and then go again, and the process repeats.  It’s tragic, I feel your pain.  These people need to learn how to love themselves, and to learn how to not fear love.  A double whammy, plenty of juicy work to take on (I can help with this).

And that’s it really.  If you identify in the secure quadrant, then great, lucky you, no, seriously, become conscious of what an incredible gift that is you have there, and become conscious of the fact that the unhappy, insecure, angry, cold, needy, mean people are just traumatised toddlers in adult bodies who are either scared of love, or scared of not being enough to be loved, or both.  They deserve your love and compassion, not your dislike, hatred, pity and scorn.  The only way they will heal is if you people use your gifts to guide them into a place of trusting in love, and trusting that they are lovable.

If you identify in the other three brackets, then rejoice, because you are conscious of what is holding you back, and rejoice in your other gifts, your compassion, your empathy, your caring, your will and determination and sheer brute strength to carry on, to carry on loving, to carry on looking, to carry on trying to improve yourself.  You are the fighters.  Heal from this you are unstoppable.  Stop looking for other people to save you, or stop running away from that which scares you (avoiders, that includes you, I’m talking about love here).  People in this camp need to realise that they need to step up and do the work on themselves, for their benefit, for their loved one’s benefit, for their children’s benefit, for the whole world’s benefit.  Tony Robbins is a former fearful avoider, anxious abusive mother, and a father who left.  Look at him go now, bringing love and positivity into literally millions of people across the world.  Once the broken heal they are the ones who can heal those around them.

And whilst we’re talking, let’s come back to the secure people.  You people collect traumas too, bullying, heart break, grief, betrayal.  Unless you heal from those wounds in your subconscious you’re not at full strength.  You often have healing to do too, but things are good enough that you don’t bother.  Which is tragic, because you are the easiest to heal, give me one hour with you and you’ll feel brand new.  These people won’t reach out, because they’re comfortable, but they should.

I can help you.  All of you.  I know how to guide you into a deep state of meditation in little to no time, go look at the reviews on this site.  I know how to help you reprogram your subconscious away from the faulty belief patterns you developed as an innocent child.  I know how to guide you into releasing old wounds.  If you don’t want my help then look up experts in the field in your local area, make sure they incorporate hypnosis and attachment style healing.  Some may call it in inner child healing.

If you’re parent, then just be there, and be happy in yourself so you’re not placing that pressure on your child to make you happy.  I had a mother in the anxious-preoccupied category, and a father in the dismissive avoidant category, I was an emergency C-section, and I was placed in childcare as a one-year old.  It was unavoidable that I would grow up damaged.  I’m gradually, consciously working to heal that damage, and the more and more I heal, the better and better I become helping others who need to also heal.

I see you.  I hear you.  I am you.



If you would like to work with me because you’re suffering or stuck in a rut and can’t see a way out, then head over to my business page at for details on what I do and how to contact me.






I Wasn’t Meant To Live

Foreword: Please don’t start this unless you have 15 mins to read it to completion.  Come back to it later.  If you read only half way it will leave you depressed.  Don’t do that to yourself.  Comeback later.  There’s no rush.

I read a story recently about a dog who gave birth to a litter of six pups.  To the humans who cared for the mother, all six seemed happy and healthy, however after a short while the momma pooch gently lifted one of the pups up, carried it from the dog bed to the other side, where she nuzzled and then left the poor little bugger.  She returned to the ‘nest’ to tend to the remaining five pups.  The little pup who had been outcast cried and whimpered, the mother looked at it sadly, but did not go to it.

The humans, alarmed, scooped the pup up and placed it back in the bed with the others, but it was to no avail.  After a short while, the mother merely picked it up and removed it again.  The humans tried this repeatedly over the next few days.  They made it their mission to save this unwanted pup from its apparent fate.  And they succeeded, the mother eventually gave up on her mission to orphan her apparently-healthy offspring, but at what cost?

That puppy went on to live for thirteen years, but according to the owners was constantly sick, regularly at the vets, racking up huge bills, needing operation after operation, medication after medication, just to stay alive.  Moral of the story:  Momma pooch knew something the humans, though trying to be ‘humane’, did not.

As my own mother was in labour, her body and my own unborn foetus conspired to turn me upside down in the womb and wrap the umbilical cord around my neck.  The hospital staff, seeing my vitals instantly shift, rushed my Mum into the operating theatre to perform an emergency caesarean to save my life.  Western medical intervention ensured I survived, and here I am, thirty six years later writing about it.  But should I be?  Should I be here?  Should I be writing about it?

Nature is life.  Humans are an expression of life.  Life knew that I was a flawed copy, and took action at the last moment to prevent that flaw coming into existence.  This isn’t about right or wrong, good or bad.  The medical staff overrode nature, and so here I am.  But was I meant to live?

Perhaps you think I’m being ridiculous in asking such a question.  Perhaps you think you know better than I do.  Perhaps you think I’m over thinking it.  Perhaps you think I’m being morbid.  Perhaps you are right.  Perhaps you are wrong.  It doesn’t matter.  I express my experience truthfully on this page.  That is all that is certain here.  The rest of it is just opinions, as proved by the use of the word ‘think’.  Right or Wrong.  Good or Bad. Beauty or ugliness -it’s all just opinion.  Conditioning.  Programming.  Fluff.

I woke up at 4am this morning and started to meditate, as I do most mornings these days, but rather than finding peace and calm, I descended almost immediately into mental anguish, and eventually, hell.  I have no choice in the matter, I cannot control it any more, and nor do I want to.  If a downward spiral begins I have to ride it to the bottom, and it’s best to get there as quickly as possible.  This spiral spiralled rapidly, and within minutes I had my face buried in the pillow and was blasting muffled screams into the material of the pillow case.  This was the third morning on the trot that this has occurred.

I’m in a strange period.  I have found this love, a strange love, for everything.  I walk around and feel powerful fondness for all the creatures that I see, from insects to birds to humans.  I feel connected to the world like never before.  It’s like I’ve just upgraded my satellite TV package from Basic to Premium Deluxe.  I understand myself, and the world around me, and all the people in it like never before.  But at the same time my life has lost meaning, all the stuff that used to give my life purpose has ceased to fulfill or drive me, and so the joy has departed.  I’m full of love and patience, but in a deep malaise at the same time.  How do you make sense of that?  It’s something I’m working through.

I made some sense of it this morning as I furiously screamed my final bout of rage into the poor pillow.  When I enter one of these spirals, obviously it’s not a particularly pleasant experience, but at the very bottom I fall out and into a void of wonderful nothingness.  It is there where the true revelations seem to occur, the clarity of my existence becomes clear.  When my third eye bursts open and I intuit what I need to intuit.  The spirals aren’t always downwards into hell, sometimes they cycle up into heaven and when I hit the void at the top of that I find pure love.  It seems that pain and anger bring wisdom and knowledge.  Ecstasy and bliss bring love and joy.  I welcome both directions.  You should know that, because I’m fully aware that a vision of me screaming into a pillow int he darkness of my bedroom is probably not a nice one for you.  For me, it’s just part of the process.  I’ve learnt to feel things on an enormous spectrum.  So yes, there is terrible anger and sadness, but there is also mind-blowing, better than any drug, bliss and love.  I’ve wondered if that’s bipolar, but I always feel in control.  Maybe.  Who knows.  Who cares.  It’s life.

You have not lived my experience, so you cannot know my experience, as much as I cannot claim to know yours. I have whole-heartedly and honestly attempted to describe my experience through the words on this blog over the past two years, however it is but a tiny window into my soul.  I have written extensively on the subject of my health.  The sad fact is that I have felt as though something was not quite right, physically, with my body since my mid-teens.  I remember struggling to stay awake in class sometimes at school.  The digestive problems started around that time too, 16 or 17.  Debilitating stomach aches.  When I was 19 I started having issues with my bladder that led to an operation. I almost dropped out of uni in my third year as I was struggling to cope.  In my mid-20s I went from doctor to doctor being tested for all sorts of ailments.  I suffered from terrible arthritis in my knees and feet, my hands were often numb and cold, my digestive system got worse and worse, my hormone system was malfunctioning and I started to suffer mood swings and sexual dysfunction.  There was near constant back pain that no amount of osteopathy or physio could cure.  And fatigue. The fatigue that started to appear occasionally in class at school plagued me regularly in the workplace.  I would often doze off through afternoon meetings.  I became an expert at putting fake meetings in my diary and finding secret places to nap.

Doctors tested for lupus, thyroid dysfunction, rheumatoid arthritis, IBS, crohns, diabetes, and on and on.  They never tested for Coeliac disease.  Why??? I saw at least three gastroenterologists.  Not one thought to test for it.  Looking back now it seems madness. Nothing came back conclusive except that I did have early-onset arthritis.  The medical system is whack.  I’m sorry to all the doctors out there, most of whom just want to help people, but I have very little respect for the profession.  They know how to treat a broken leg, but for chronic diseases they just don’t have an answer.  If you have a chronic disease, come talk to me.  Doctors will likely give you a medication to mask your symptoms whilst you slowly deteriorate.  Doctor after doctor washed their hands of me when they couldn’t find the problem.  Eventually I took matters into my own hands and started to tweak my diet, becoming an early champion of the paleo way of eating.  The digestive issues started to improve, the arthritis went away, my thyroid seemed to perk up.  Life became a lot more enjoyable.  However hangovers became the bane of my existence.  They would often last for three days, but I was oblivious to why, so I drank, because that was the only time I felt free.  I started passing out, having panic attacks and scary things happened with my heart that led me to A&E, twice.  Like gluten, alcohol was removed from my life.  Life became really quite dull.  So I moved to Australia.

I spent my first year Down Under living in mouldy apartments.  High temperatures, next to a large body of water, massive humidity and poorly built buildings.  Mould is everywhere here, and it’s a silent killer.  Just look at the tragic tale of Britney Murphy and her husband.  I’m tuned into it, my local supermarket has a mouldy aroma near where the bottled water is, I hold my breath whilst walking through that section.  The coffee shop with the wonderful-looking pastries that I can’t eat has a mouldy cover out front that makes me woozy if I stand there too long.  There is a theatre in Newtown that I simply cannot go in.  Like a canary in a coal mine, if mould is there, I’ll be able to tell you.  The fatigue I’d largely eliminated with the gluten and alcohol bans came back with a vengeance.  And then I got bitten by that spider, and all hell let loose.  That insect bite put some sort of toxin in my body which was the final straw for my long suffering immune system.  That was almost four years ago.  I’ve written about it extensively on here before, I don’t need to go back over it.  I’ve made peace with it.  I’m bringing it up here for context.

Here I am today, with two decades of research into trying to find ‘health’.  Whilst many of you have been off finding love, starting families, buying houses, focusing on your careers, I’ve been distracted with trying to find ways to feel well.  I’ve covered it all off.  I eat organic and grassfed, no sugar, nothing processed.  I eat according to the body ecology diet, water in the morning, protein at lunch, carbs at night, I do regular fasts, I don’t drink, I’ve learnt how to de-stress, I practice yoga, I meditate at least twice a day, I walk a minimum of 10k steps a day, when I’m not fatigued I can run a 24 minute 5k, I do strength training, but not too much, I take my shoes off and ground, I take epsom salt baths on the reg.  I learnt to do all this, because if I don’t, I can’t function, I get really ill.  In the past year I also developed a spiritual practice, found unconditional love and the truth of life. and resolved the gigantic rift I had with my own past.  I healed my traumas, I found the joy, the gratitude, the clarity, the oneness.  Prana now runs through me and into others like lightning passing jumping from one metal rod to another.  It’s so powerful that it scares me sometimes.  I’m learning how to use it to heal others.  Which is amazing, and ridiculous.  Energy healing wasn’t even on my radar a year ago.  That may be a bit too ‘woo woo’ for you, and that’s fine, but for me it is the diamond in the rough.  The thing that enables me to find gratitude.  Enables me to feel it was worth all the hassle.

And yet, AND YET, despite all this, I am still not in good health.

I have scoliosis.  I was 27 when I found out that my back is slightly twisted.  My left shoulder slopes down lower than the right.  My neck carries my head slightly forward to balance it out.  One of my pupils is larger than the other.  My jaw hangs slightly more to one side.  My nose points slightly to the other direction.  My right hip is looser than the left.  Subtle imbalances are displayed externally throughout my body, but I’m not vain enough to care.  The real flaw lays inside my back.  The spine is the support system for the muscular skeletal system, but it is also the home of the spinal cord.  The nerves shoot out from the gaps between each vertebrae, regulating the function of the organs, the nervous, circulatory and endocrine systems.  When scoliosis causes the spine to curve laterally and unnaturally it pinches those nerves and negatively affects the functioning of those systems.  A prominent scoliosis support website says:

Accumulated stress. In milder cases, most scoliosis symptoms aren’t severe enough to impair the patient’s ability to function, but over time they can add up to a lot of strain on the body. On top of the emotional stress caused by the spine’s deformity, patients may endure chronic pain and fatigue, headaches, difficulty sleeping and digestive problems — all of which can sap vitality over time.

Amazing really, how reading a story about a runt in the litter, could lead to an insight so profound during a 4am meditation (I don’t sleep well).

This is important knowledge for me.  It’s a massive part of the puzzle.  It explains why I have not been able to find good health for the past 20 years despite trying so damn hard to find it. It explains why my body rejects foods which are mild stressors, like gluten, dairy, tomatoes, white potatoes or anything artifical or processed.  It explains why I struggle to build muscle, and lose it quickly.  It (partially) explains why my stress tolerance became low, why fatigue has been a problem.  Why my body can’t clear mould toxins, or why that spider bite wrecked me.  More than one doctor has told me that my physical ailments are all in my head, and to some extent I believe that was true.  Undoubtedly childhood trauma and my parent’s divorce affected me in a profound way, but I realised this morning, in that meditation, that it was always destined to be this way.  I wasn’t meant to live.  Nature reminds me so every day.  The intention was for me to die in my Mother’s womb.

What this realisation gives me is something beyond measure.  I know now that I can give up my exhausting search for optimal health.  It simply ain’t gonna happen.  The thirty six and a half years I’ve had to date have been an unintended bonus.  Any further days, weeks, months or years I’m gifted are a blessing.  How incredibly freeing to realise that I don’t need to try so hard any more, or question why I don’t feel so great most of the time.  Pain and suffering is my status quo.  It’s time to accept it, manage it and move on.

There is a quote that says something like:

“A man with his health will have a thousand desires, a man who has not, has only one”

This is true for me.  Everything in my life, especially in the last decade, has been of secondary importance to finding good health.  It has dominated my existence.  It is no surprise, although of course, of utmost disappointment, that I am single and without children.  I am not the bachelor who revels in his single status.  I have no interest in one night stands and casual flings.  Ever since I can remember I’ve been craving a loving, fulfilling relationship, I just haven’t been able to find it, because I’ve been a little distracted, a little lost.  The sexy, confident women I’ve been attracted to have no interest in man who is lost.

But what about if I accept my limitations?  Stop fighting the pain?  Stop trying to make a conventional life work for me?  What then?  Stephen Hawking only really flourished after his disease took away his physical body.  What’s become really apparent to me is that I feel good when I’m moving my body a lot.  When I’m out in nature, walking through the bush, swinging from trees, diving in the ocean, dedicated to my yoga practice.  Away from the pollution and craziness of cities.  I simply cannot spend forty hours a week at a desk bathing in man-made EMFs, artificial light and air conditioning anymore and expect to be ok.  My body needs to be outside and it needs to be moving.  If I want to live a long and happy life I need to cut the cord with the old life.  To commit myself to Mother Earth.  To Gaia.  I don’t know how that will work, but it will.

The microbiome, normally inherited from our mothers as we pass through the birth canal, and so in my case disrupted upon birth by C-section, needs me to be outdoors.  Caesarian babies are 10 times more likely to have asthma, 4 times more likely to have coeliac disease.  Babies who do not pass through the birth canal suffer a blow to the development of a well functioning immune system.  Is it any wonder that so many more kids have autism, behavioural issues and food allergies when elective C-sections are borderline fashionable?  From my experience you simply cannot heal a damaged gut or rescue a failing immune system with sedentary lives, indoor gyms, offices, and 40-degree yoga studios.  My body needs dedication to the practice.  It needs space.  It needs clean air, and food, and water.  I need to go live out there.  My gut has known this for some time, I’ve been thinking about it for a while.  It’s time.

I’ve seen people holding on to nothing
Broken dreams and broken cords
Running on empty, losing sleep, oh
It’s true I’ve earned these cracks upon my feet
Walk away from all that you know
Walk away and hold your own
Walk away and hold your own
And I’ve seen people holding on to something
Smiling with no place to call home
In you I see something so familiar, uh
My dear friend, so nice to have you home
Xavier Rudd, Walk Away

That last verse gives me real hope, and you know what else gives me hope.  That puppy.  That puppy who wasn’t meant to live, but did, thanks to human intervention, and went on to live a long life.  It was a life of pain and suffering, but you know what his owners said about that dog?  They said he had more love in him than he knew what to do with.  He gave that love freely to those blessed to be around him.  He was a survivor.  It seems to me I could learn a lot from that pup.

Maybe I was meant to live after all, but it’s a redundant question, it’s not worth pondering, because I am here, alive, and grateful to be here; grateful for the past; grateful for the present; grateful for the future, whatever it may bring.

And a grateful heart is a magnet for miracles.



If you would like to work with me because you’re suffering or stuck in a rut and can’t see a way out, then head over to my business page at for details on what I do and how to contact me.