X is a cloak for Xtremes which distort our dreams and desires with fear. XX is for chromosomes and for the mysteries of gender. When fear seeks to distort my sense of self and when 21^st century gender polarisation upsets me, I turn to trees for comfort especially the  Ash as they “are notorious for confusion and blurring of tree gender lines.” Ref: https://bugwoodcloud.org/resource/files/15271.pdf

Fear and desire

The fear is back. The planet rockets through another war towards complete instability.  I am afraid I cannot find the sense of self which will help me survive. Over breakfast alone on this Donegal hillside, fear transports me down the spiral of time back to Brussels. I have only a vague recollection of the area where I emerged from the subway station. This unfamiliar area is very different from where I lived near Chaussee de Wavre with its enclaves and flavours of the vast continent of Africa. In this area of Brussels, straight streets take me through steely glass buildings as I locate the counsellor recommended to me. He leads me into his office. I speak of my anger and frustration, which I want to channel into energy for change, but I am blocked by fear and anxiety.

A chaffinch flies against the window and startles me into the present. When she pecks for crumbs on the ground, I spot there are some missing tail feathers – it is my Spring surprise visitor? Over a Spring breakfast, I heard a sound upstairs. When I entered the bedroom, fear throbbed through both of us.  I opened the window wide. Fledging panic helped me focus. I spoke quietly to the pulsing bundle of life which I managed to cup into my hands. I reached out the window. Ben Bulben in the distance is clearly outlined against the sunny sky above the nearby oak planted only 15 years ago but already above the house. The fluffy bundle of anxiety flew out of my hands and over my head back into the room where she huddled in a corner. Mmm. I opened the skylight window too. Do you need more time to calm down or is there something out there which threatens you? I asked as I closed the door on the fledgling fear and went downstairs to finish breakfast and contemplate my next move.

The counsellor in Brussels challenged me when I claimed to have simultaneous feelings of anger, fear, and desire. He told me I need to learn to distinguish between emotions as they alternate. He shared stories of his daughter who thought he didn’t love her when he refused to help her make a choice between studying psychology or business. I didn’t follow his analysis. I searched the empty polish of the desk between us for some sign to help me to decide whether it is worth attending his Saturday seminar. I decided it was worth the risk of a Saturday and 50 euros.

As I walked back to the subway station, my  fears and desires mingle with the recent loss from cancer of my closest friend who helped me through every crisis. Fear and desire mingleddd in my  precarious  income in the isolation of a home-office in Brussels , fear and desire mingled in the uncertainty of my future and the future of the European network I worked for. I had given up dreams of writing fiction. The collapse of Au Coeur de la Communication (In the heart of communication) in Paris meant I could not go there for help. I felt anger at the counsellor because of his insistence I cannot feel opposing emotions simultaneously. I wanted to show him how emotions could live together in the unity of soft and hard, loathing and desire,  love and hate, anger, and forgiveness. I resolved to put his boundaries and their dualism to the test.

The seminar room and the other participants are a blur of shared experiences and his analysis. There were windows and there were chairs, but this was no cushioned oasis. It was functional. His hand reaches out as he puts fear on the back of one hand.  He tells us our fears are a reversal of our  deepest desires and turns his hand over to find the hidden desire. I miss the example he extracts from the group as  fear of failure feeds the comfort blanket of my low self-esteem and lack of confidence. I dabble my toes in the pool of emotions seeking to distinguish frogspawn from plants.  As I listen more closely, I begin to distinguish patterns and choices that I missed before. The ambitions of others in the group helps. I felt the relief of hopping off the management career ladder giving space for renewal of desire. The example of someone learning to ride a bicycle helps. Desire lifts your head up to a better balance. Fear of falling brings wobbles.

If you docus on the fear he suggests, you will find relief because you will unconsciously fulfil this fear to stop it dominating your consciousness. Fear fulfilled is a relief from the pain of living with the anxiety. Wobbling on a bike, fear of a falling and a cut knee repaired. No broken bones. Relief is good but you will not fulfil the desires hidden by your fears. Would focusing on the desire to stay steady and upright on the bike be a better use of energy and save the hassle of a cut knee or the risk of worse? I think of my best friend and the fear of cancer, death, and depression. Is it easier to live and die with fulfilled fear than the disappointment of broken dreams? I am afraid I won’t find the way back to Ireland from Brussels. If I move to Donegal, how can I support myself? Where will I live?

I turn the fear of the future over and put the dream place in Donegal on my palm. He asks me if we can use my example for a group exercise. I agree and he unfolds a leather trolley not unlike a massage couch. He asks me to lie on it while he guides me away from fear and into desire. I articulate my visualisation of a house with a view over Donegal  Bay on the farm where my grandfather lived. I am surrounded by the curious faces of the group as he guides me towards fulfilment of my dream. After the seminar the image of myself looking out of a window overlooking Donegal Bay remained with me.

25 years after this workshop and after breakfast, I go upstairs again to the room with the window overlooking Donegal Bay. Some of my fear has been overcome and desire has materialised in a mature garden in what was once a field grazing sheep. The shrubs and plants around the house provide homes for a great variety of birds. I listen at the door of the room upstairs where the fledging sought refuge. No sound. Is she gone? No, she flies up as I open the door but this time, she makes it through the skylight to freedom.

I am left alone to ask myself why my fear is back. What am I afraid of now and can I work on fulfilling the desire that my fear cloaks? The pandemic has clogged my desires with anxieties. In a more and more unstable world, children are cannon fodder, displaced or hungry. The garden flourishes but it still reminds me of climate change and the uncertain future it will bring. I remind myself of the transformation from a sheep field into a haven for plants, trees, and birds. It is never too late to make some difference. I will find a network of people who care about nature including our human nature. I will cut consumption of goods.  I have time and energy to locate the depth of hope which can counter despair at the state of the world. Among the many tits, robins, blackbirds, finches, and doves who visit the garden, the one with some tail feathers missing struts across the back step again. Is she the fledging who retreated in fear from a predator outside into the room upstairs. Is she the one who decided to choose her time to fly out and up?