I’m in the middle of a series of life coaching sessions with Felicity Morse. Quite a lot of our discussions have been around the what the various parts of me want to achieve for me. I’m familiar with “parts” from NLP training, so I decided to get in touch with my dominant parts by doing a bit of free-flowing creative writing. Here it is, unedited.
———————————————————-
The mouth of the cave smells pleasantly damp as I crunch my feet over the beach stones that have made their way in there over the years. I notice the way that the cave’s acoustic changes the sound of the waves behind me. I’ve come here to meet the aspects of me that are currently warring for my attention. I find a comfortable rock to sit on, turning to face the bright mouth of the cave and sitting down, the sea in the distance.
A seagull glides in, and stands on a very small rock to my right. He looks at me quizzically. He was so eager to arrive that he appeared before I’d had a chance to write about him.
“Welcome!”, I say. “Which part of me are you?”
I already knew the answer. He’s the controlling part, the guardsman. I knew this because of his air of intelligence – even superiority – and aloof confidence. The fact that he appeared so quickly, attentively, and clearly told me that he is that most obvious, easily connected and described controlling part of me who wants to keep me safe.
“You don’t need me to tell you that.”, he said, blinking just once.
“I know. And I’m very grateful for all that you do for me. How could I not be? I see you all the time, and you keep me safe. That’s such an expression of care and concern.”
He blinked once more. So I continued –
“The thing is, I need to understand what the other parts of me want. They (assuming there is more than one) have been making such a fuss recently. And, thinking about it, it’s almost like you literally flew in here in a panic; you couldn’t allow me to meet the other parts without your watchful eyes looking over me.”
“You’re right. I know I can be too controlling at times.”
“Well, I have a request for you. Will you please help me to meet and understand the other parts?”
The seagull looked down at his feet. I thought at first this was a sign of reluctance, and maybe it was, but he lifted his right foot as if to point to something. Then, he used it to roll forwards a small, pink, egg.
“OK”, he said, “Meet Prescilla. She’s a baby, really, but – as babies are – she can be quite vocal.”
As the egg rolled forwards it cracked open, and revealed from inside the tiniest, chocolate-coloured bird. It was about the size of my thumbnail.
“Not one of us can fail to see the imbalance here, can we?”, I asked the seagull, rhetorically. I need us to address this.
The seagull paused. He looked at the hatched egg, then at his feet, then at me, and blinked again.
“I need some magic”, he said.
“What kind?”
“I need to transfer some of my energy into Prescilla. I have been trying, honestly, but nothing much has happened.”
I walked forwards and knelt down in front of them. I put my right hand on the seagull’s back, and held out my left hand on the ground, allowing the small brown bird to climb onto it. I felt the seagull shudder slightly, but that was all. But on my left hand, the small, bedraggled hatchling went through a transformation. She dried off, her feathers turned a lighter brown before rapidly turning a brighter white than even those that the seagull had, and she grew into a fully grown seagull of her own right before our eyes.
“Thank you! Thank you both!”, she said.
I looked back at the guardsman seagull. He seemed fine (I had worried that this use of his energy might cause him some damage).
“Are we all OK?”, I asked.
“Yes, yes I think we are!”, they said, in unison.
“Good”, I said. “Now that you’re balanced in size, maybe you can fly off and have a chat about what you each want for me? And when you’ve worked it out, come back to me and let me know. I’ll leave it up to you how you want to achieve that”.
The two birds blinked, looked at each other, and walked towards the cave entrance. Then they simply flew off. It had turned twilight in the time that I had been in the cave, and the sound of the sea was now more distant. I could smell the vinegar from fish and chips somewhere nearby, and the warmth of the cooling rocks hit me pleasantly as I stepped out of the cave.