Have you ever felt that the identity and name you’ve carried around with you all your life, no longer fits the person you now feel your are, the person you have developed into?
That happened to me back in 1987, but I did nothing about it, just pushed the ‘other’, who longed to emerge, into the background, suppressed my more creative, flamboyant alter ego, telling myself that I was Pamela Bradley, school teacher and textbook writer, and that was it. Sure I could have reinvented myself as I had been doing all my life and kept my given name of Pamela, but I sensed I was on the verge of a massive transformation and needed some symbolic way of acknowledging it, a name change would go some way to achieving that. But still I did nothing.
That ‘other’ had travelled with me since I was a child.
If our first conscious desire is to know ourselves then my earliest memory of being aware of myself was in a small child’s mirror with a pink plastic frame and handle, part of a set given to me by my aunt for my fourth birthday. I’d sit for long periods of time absorbed in my reflection, but it was not the fine sprinkling of freckles beginning to appear on my nose and cheeks that I saw, nor the dimple on the right side of my mouth. It was my eyes. I was convinced there was someone lurking behind them and that if I stared hard enough and long enough I would catch a glimpse of ‘her’.
Occasionally when no one was around, I’d sneak into my parents’ bedroom, climb on the padded chair in front of the dressing table, lift Mum’s crystal mirror, hold it close––barely a few centimetres from my nose––and move it from eye to eye in turn. Sometimes, I removed the lid of her cut glass jewel box, take out her long string of satiny pearls and wrap them around my head letting them dangle in a knot on my forehead. Then I stared into my eyes again, hoping to catch a glimpse of that ‘other’, who I intuitively knew was there.
Early on, I experimented with name changes, depending on what I was particularly interested in at the time. First it was Solveig, the middle name of a new girl at school who had stolen the spotlight from me. Then it was Mimi, the half-Tahitian girl in the film Pagan Love Song that starred Esther Williams. That was in my ‘I want to be an actress’ phase. I harped until Mum bought me a flowered swimming cap. I practised swimming backstroke, bringing my arms up close to my head then curling my palms as I dipped them into the water and I practised diving and emerging from the water with arms spread wide and a smile on my face. I would only answer to my friends when they called me Mimi. But that phase didn’t last long because nobody would co-operate.
Then I adopted the name Pen, made my own postcards with cardboard and coloured pencils and wrote little messages to a make-believe aunt named Elizabeth about the places she visited: Zanzibar and Tanganyika, Vladivostock and Samarkand, Mandalay and Rio de Janeiro, any unusual names in my regulation Commonwealth school atlas, the one with the British Empire marked in pink.
I tried out one last name before I left primary school: Esme. She was a beautiful Hungarian girl with olive skin and the thickest plait I had ever seen hanging down her back. She spent six months at our school. I think I was in love with her, and in my mind I became Esme. It sounded so romantic. Es-me, the beloved daughter of the king, Es-me living in a castle, Es-me riding on the back of a huge bird or a unicorn, Es-me and the handsome prince.
When I was twelve, I no longer had any need to fantasize or ‘steal’ unusual names. ‘We’ve decided to call you Frecks,’ said the leader of the ‘swimming gang’ in my first week at high school. The name was thrust on me and, whether I liked it or not, it soon became the epithet by which I was known by all students and teachers.
Had they called me ‘Freckles’ I would have retaliated with ‘Four Eyes’, ‘Big Bum’ and ‘Giraffe Neck’. But Frecks was kind of acceptable, although I had never thought that my freckles might become the source of a name that would follow me throughout high school. So I became Frecks Carlson. It was actually a good choice for a mischief maker and class clown. It resonated with those rebellious girls in The Belles of St Trinians, and the ones I read about in the penny dreadfuls, the ones who went to boarding school, had midnight feasts and hated the English teacher. And it distinguished me from the rest of my peers, and reflected my outer adolescent persona, the not-so-sweet teenager. It suited my natural bossiness and slightly nasty competitive streak and it was perfect for the captain of this and that sporting team, the one doing the choosing, not one of those waiting to be chosen.
But Frecks disappeared when I went to University and Pamela Bradley became my name from the moment I married in 1963 until a day at Varuna, the heritage-listed Writers’ House in the Blue Mountains in 2004.
I had wandered off to explore its gardens and was engrossed in the activities of its resident bowerbird when I heard the scrunch of gravel. A woman introduced herself as Helen and when I told her my name was Pam, she said it didn't suit me, it was too ordinary. 'You should be something that starts with a Z,' she said. 'P is a closed letter, Z is open and has a certain flourish about it. It’s more flamboyant.’ We tried out several names like Zahra, Zoe and Zora until she said, ‘I’ve got it! . . . Zelda. Yes you are definitely a Zelda.’
I liked the fact that it sounded a bit like Zelda the wicked witch of the west, or Madame Zelda, fortune-teller. And Scott Fitzgerald’s wife was a Zelda, an interesting character. I think she was probably a better writer than him.
I wondered what the name meant, but it really didn’t matter, because I intuitively knew Zelda was perfect for my alter ego at that stage of my life. I agreed to try it for the next five days to see how it 'felt'.
But it was a long time before more than the six participants at Viruna called me Zelda. I had a name but she still hadn’t ‘come out’.
Sunday, August 2, 2009
What this site is about
Reinventing ourselves is an integral part of life and we all do it to some degree or another whether we recognise it or not. Physical development, ageing and important events in our lives such as marriage, birth of a child, divorce, relocation, diagnosis of a life threatening disease and death of loved ones, do not occur without change. But in some cases they do not result in real ‘growth’.
What I’m interested in, are personal transformations on emotional and spiritual levels, people who grow into the kind of person they want to be, those who can envision a change and work at it even if it means taking risks. Ghandi once said ‘be the change you want to be in the world.’
The elements of the mythical hero’s journey intrigues me. My own personal physical, emotional and spiritual path during a seven-year period between the ages of 47-52 is revealed in my memoir Neferiti Street published in 2008. Although I didn’t know it at the time of writing, it follows the typical pattern of the hero’s journey, something I’ll blog about on this site from time to time.
Dreams and symbols, both relevant in personal transformation, also fascinate me. The other day looking around my study for writing inspiration, I realised that I have a strange collection of objects hanging from my walls and propped up on bookshelves. They all have something in common; they are symbols of transformation: pyramids, scarabs, fairies, witches, masks and dragonflies. More on their significance later.
I’m convinced by 'the acorn theory of the soul' proposed by James Hillman, the archetypal psychologist, in the Soul's Code. He believes, like the many great philosophers, poets, artists and alchemists over the centuries, and present day indigenous peoples, that we all have a particular destiny and calling. Just as the acorn has within it the pattern of the adult oak tree, so we all have a unique energy and purpose contained within our soul and that this is revealed in childhood and throughout our lifetime. 'Sooner or later something seems to call us onto a particular path . . . this is what I must do, this is what I've got to have. This is who I am.'
Along the same lines, Anais Nin said ‘There came a time when the risk to remain tight in the bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.’
So, I’ll also be talking about taking risks and going outside our comfort zones among a host of other related topics, and highlighting some of the individuals who have made their lives more meaningful by taking off the masks they’ve worn all their lives, by changing their identities, reinventing themselves and undergoing complete transformations.
What I’m interested in, are personal transformations on emotional and spiritual levels, people who grow into the kind of person they want to be, those who can envision a change and work at it even if it means taking risks. Ghandi once said ‘be the change you want to be in the world.’
The elements of the mythical hero’s journey intrigues me. My own personal physical, emotional and spiritual path during a seven-year period between the ages of 47-52 is revealed in my memoir Neferiti Street published in 2008. Although I didn’t know it at the time of writing, it follows the typical pattern of the hero’s journey, something I’ll blog about on this site from time to time.
Dreams and symbols, both relevant in personal transformation, also fascinate me. The other day looking around my study for writing inspiration, I realised that I have a strange collection of objects hanging from my walls and propped up on bookshelves. They all have something in common; they are symbols of transformation: pyramids, scarabs, fairies, witches, masks and dragonflies. More on their significance later.
I’m convinced by 'the acorn theory of the soul' proposed by James Hillman, the archetypal psychologist, in the Soul's Code. He believes, like the many great philosophers, poets, artists and alchemists over the centuries, and present day indigenous peoples, that we all have a particular destiny and calling. Just as the acorn has within it the pattern of the adult oak tree, so we all have a unique energy and purpose contained within our soul and that this is revealed in childhood and throughout our lifetime. 'Sooner or later something seems to call us onto a particular path . . . this is what I must do, this is what I've got to have. This is who I am.'
Along the same lines, Anais Nin said ‘There came a time when the risk to remain tight in the bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.’
So, I’ll also be talking about taking risks and going outside our comfort zones among a host of other related topics, and highlighting some of the individuals who have made their lives more meaningful by taking off the masks they’ve worn all their lives, by changing their identities, reinventing themselves and undergoing complete transformations.
Thursday, July 9, 2009
One day it's there and then zap it's gone
I suppose you think I'm talking about our youth. Well it's true that one day we wake up and realise that it's gone, and it can be very depressing. Tie this in to the disappearance of our hard-earned cash, our superannuation, our investments and our futures, even our jobs. For many of us over fifty, the baby boomers and self-funded retirees, the last year has ranged from being difficult, to scary and downright disastrous. Some of us will never recover from the greed and corruption that brought us to this point in 2009.
Recently I've met a lot of wonderful women who either never had superannuation, who have suffered financially from divorces, are regarded as too old to get the job of their choice although their experiences and skills are outstanding, others who feel locked into a job as they near retirement and some wondering where the hell they are going to live once the rents go up, as they will.
Just at the time when we were ready to enjoy our retirements, reinvent or pamper ourselves, follow our passions, travel etc, here we are with financial problems that in most cases are not of our own making except perhaps for being being a little naive, trusting our accountants, financial advisors and banks too much
So what's to be done?
I've seen endless adds now urging people to thrive rather than survive. That's great and positive, but how do we know who to thrust anymore with our dwindling resources, our time, effort and even emotional input? I think we have to do our homework, learn how to ask the right questions and talk, talk talk to others to find new opportunities.
It's amazing how many people are now working from home and setting up successful businesses over the internet while large corporations are going bankrupt.
Our lives will probably never be the same again so we can't whine about what was or what could have been. Let's find ways to help each other and prove that we are still interesting, vital and dynamic women who can find ways to make money make money while still retaining a certain amount of freedom to pursue our passions.
Yes, it could take many of us go right outside our comfort zones, but then as I've commented many times, that's the only way to grow.
Let's refuse to give up on life and our dreams.
Recently I've met a lot of wonderful women who either never had superannuation, who have suffered financially from divorces, are regarded as too old to get the job of their choice although their experiences and skills are outstanding, others who feel locked into a job as they near retirement and some wondering where the hell they are going to live once the rents go up, as they will.
Just at the time when we were ready to enjoy our retirements, reinvent or pamper ourselves, follow our passions, travel etc, here we are with financial problems that in most cases are not of our own making except perhaps for being being a little naive, trusting our accountants, financial advisors and banks too much
So what's to be done?
I've seen endless adds now urging people to thrive rather than survive. That's great and positive, but how do we know who to thrust anymore with our dwindling resources, our time, effort and even emotional input? I think we have to do our homework, learn how to ask the right questions and talk, talk talk to others to find new opportunities.
It's amazing how many people are now working from home and setting up successful businesses over the internet while large corporations are going bankrupt.
Our lives will probably never be the same again so we can't whine about what was or what could have been. Let's find ways to help each other and prove that we are still interesting, vital and dynamic women who can find ways to make money make money while still retaining a certain amount of freedom to pursue our passions.
Yes, it could take many of us go right outside our comfort zones, but then as I've commented many times, that's the only way to grow.
Let's refuse to give up on life and our dreams.
Monday, June 29, 2009
God I love James Hillman!
I was looking for something uplifting to read the other day and found James Hillman's book,'The Soul's Code: In Search of Character and Calling' on the shelf with all my other 'spiritual-type' books. I bought it in 1996 when it first came out but haven't looked at it since. I should have, because it has influenced much of my thinking. According to Thomas Moore, the author, whose books I also have on my shelves, and who owes a lot to Hillman, 'The Soul's Code' 'restores passion, uniqueness, destiny, and childhood to every human life' and shows us how to be 'creative eccentrics instead of benumbed normals'.
James Hillman is an archetypal psychologist, a visionary who is not particularly popular with traditional psychotherapists because he disputes the parental fallacy that much of who we are and what we do in life is determined by the genes we inherit from our parents, their conditioning and behavioural patterns.
In the 'Soul's Code' he proposes what he calls 'the acorn theory of the soul'. He believes, like the many great philosophers, poets, artists and alchemists over the centuries and present day indigenous peoples, that we all have a particular destiny and calling. Such a belief is found in the kabbala and held in one form or another by Hindus and Buddhists. He believes that just as the acorn has within it, the pattern of the adult oak tree, so we all have a unique energy and purpose contained within our soul and that this is revealed in childhood and throughout our lifetimes.
Archetypal psychology is a polytheistic psychology based on recognising our soul in the many myths, fantasies, symbols, metaphors, images and dreams that shape and are shaped by our own psychological lives.
To Hillman, our psyche or soul is not a thing but an imaginative possibility. It does not resides inside us, in the brain or head or heart. We are in psyche.
I love these quotes:
'Sooner or later something seems to call us onto a particular path . . . this is what I must do, this is what I've got to have. This is who I am.'
'
The circumstances, including my body and my parents, whom I may curse, are my soul's own choice and I do not understand this because I have forgotten.'
James Hillman is an archetypal psychologist, a visionary who is not particularly popular with traditional psychotherapists because he disputes the parental fallacy that much of who we are and what we do in life is determined by the genes we inherit from our parents, their conditioning and behavioural patterns.
In the 'Soul's Code' he proposes what he calls 'the acorn theory of the soul'. He believes, like the many great philosophers, poets, artists and alchemists over the centuries and present day indigenous peoples, that we all have a particular destiny and calling. Such a belief is found in the kabbala and held in one form or another by Hindus and Buddhists. He believes that just as the acorn has within it, the pattern of the adult oak tree, so we all have a unique energy and purpose contained within our soul and that this is revealed in childhood and throughout our lifetimes.
Archetypal psychology is a polytheistic psychology based on recognising our soul in the many myths, fantasies, symbols, metaphors, images and dreams that shape and are shaped by our own psychological lives.
To Hillman, our psyche or soul is not a thing but an imaginative possibility. It does not resides inside us, in the brain or head or heart. We are in psyche.
I love these quotes:
'Sooner or later something seems to call us onto a particular path . . . this is what I must do, this is what I've got to have. This is who I am.'
'
The circumstances, including my body and my parents, whom I may curse, are my soul's own choice and I do not understand this because I have forgotten.'
Some advantages of getting older
According to Isabel Allende 'there is nothing more liberating than being an older woman'.
Maybe this is partly because older women no longer have to grovel to seek the approval of others, especially men, although they still like to please. And in the words of Jean Shinoda Bolen, an older woman 'finds her voice' and exhibits a 'fierce truthfulness that springs from the heart'. She can choose to be whoever she wants.
Whether we take action to make ourselves look younger, and most of us are interested in anti-aging products, or decide to live with greying hair,wrinkles and 'the effects of gravity', most older women know that their worth as a human being is not dependent on the way they look on the outside.
Older women learn to please themselves. In this generative phase they usually become more resourceful, improvising to face the changing conditions of their life. They may reinvent themselves, become absorbed in creative endeavours, and fulfil their passions whether they be spending time with grandchildren or taking off on solitary adventures.
When like-minded older women get together, usually not in the presence of men,they can let themselves explode in spontaneous laughter and healing belly laughs. Bolen says that this laughter 'comes from a deep well of feeling' and is an 'expression of the triumph of spirit and soul over that which could have broken us and made us bitter'. I was reminded of this on a recent writing workshop that became a 'laugh fest' leaving our writing pads empty, our ribs hurting and our spirits high.
One of the great things about being older is having the courage to speak the truth without fear of rejection. But the challenge is to speak honestly with compassion. An older woman also knows that to hold the truth from someone you love is not helpful.
Gloria Steinem said 'Women over fifty are a country to which this youth -obsessed culture has few guides'. However, women who are pathfinders discover this country 'as a land of wisdom, joy, freedom and leadership.'
Maybe this is partly because older women no longer have to grovel to seek the approval of others, especially men, although they still like to please. And in the words of Jean Shinoda Bolen, an older woman 'finds her voice' and exhibits a 'fierce truthfulness that springs from the heart'. She can choose to be whoever she wants.
Whether we take action to make ourselves look younger, and most of us are interested in anti-aging products, or decide to live with greying hair,wrinkles and 'the effects of gravity', most older women know that their worth as a human being is not dependent on the way they look on the outside.
Older women learn to please themselves. In this generative phase they usually become more resourceful, improvising to face the changing conditions of their life. They may reinvent themselves, become absorbed in creative endeavours, and fulfil their passions whether they be spending time with grandchildren or taking off on solitary adventures.
When like-minded older women get together, usually not in the presence of men,they can let themselves explode in spontaneous laughter and healing belly laughs. Bolen says that this laughter 'comes from a deep well of feeling' and is an 'expression of the triumph of spirit and soul over that which could have broken us and made us bitter'. I was reminded of this on a recent writing workshop that became a 'laugh fest' leaving our writing pads empty, our ribs hurting and our spirits high.
One of the great things about being older is having the courage to speak the truth without fear of rejection. But the challenge is to speak honestly with compassion. An older woman also knows that to hold the truth from someone you love is not helpful.
Gloria Steinem said 'Women over fifty are a country to which this youth -obsessed culture has few guides'. However, women who are pathfinders discover this country 'as a land of wisdom, joy, freedom and leadership.'
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Is there really such a thing as an anti-ageing treatment?
Just before I flew out to Dubai at the end of April I had an invitation from a friend to have my skin ironed out. Can you believe that? Ironing out the skin. Who wouldn’t want to have their wrinkles smoothed away like the creases in a shirt?
I was curious, but sceptical as I am with most things cosmetic. My friend insisted that the new anti-aging technology she was taking me to experience would be essential when I made the occasional public speaking appearance. Okay, I thought, there’s nothing to lose. I’m always living in hope of a miracle, although I know nothing will get rid of the genetically designed lines I share with my mother and sister, or the fine scar between my brows, the result of a skiing accident and another from a fall while dancing during a drunken orgy that was a friend’s birthday. Except of course going under the knife. And that will never be an option for me. Perhaps some of the lines created by my excessively animated facial expressions might respond to some ironing out. Rather that, than a syringe full of toxins pumped into my face resulting in a mask effect. Fancy not be able to show your feelings on your face. Yes I know there are hundreds of thousands out there, mainly young women, who swear by botox injections and collagen fillers.
Perhaps this new little hand-held wonder device/machine, the size of a mobile phone, my friend called a ‘galvanic spa’ and the various phials of ageLoc facial gels might help minimise the years of sun damage and some of the evidence of my life’s experiences.
Have any of you found that, like me, one side of your face is worse than the other? With me it’s the right side, the side exposed to the sun when driving, the side I sleep on.
When I arrived at the venue where I was assured I’d see the difference demonstrated before my eyes after only a ten-minute treatment, I was confronted with a network of overly-excited people. Oh, here we go again, I thought. I’m always a little suspicious when people are too enthusiastic.
The image they use as a promotion gets me in. Oh, if only.
Anxious to confirm her claims, my friend sat me down and organised a galvanic spa treatment on one side of my face only so that I’d be able to see the difference when it was finished. ‘Which side?’ she asked. I chose the left side, not wanting to disappoint her if my right side did not show a demonstrable difference, as I suspected might be the case. After ten minutes, I must say the results were impressive, even if on my good side, but I was not prepared for the intense scrutiny I received as people came up and touched my skin, asked me to move my head around in the light, took close-ups on cameras, and I mean close-ups, the cameras almost against my cheek. I was a hit.
But it was only half a face and the question was, would it last?
The day before I flew out, my friend gave me a full-face treatment and I must admit I glowed. She also suggested that I take a spa with me to Dubai where the excessive heat and air conditioning, plus the dehydration of the plane trip, would wreak havoc with my skin.
Just another thing to fit in my suitcase. Something had to go: hair dryer and hair products. Just as well I look good in scarves.
I’ll keep you up to date on this anti-ageing treatment in later blogs.
I was curious, but sceptical as I am with most things cosmetic. My friend insisted that the new anti-aging technology she was taking me to experience would be essential when I made the occasional public speaking appearance. Okay, I thought, there’s nothing to lose. I’m always living in hope of a miracle, although I know nothing will get rid of the genetically designed lines I share with my mother and sister, or the fine scar between my brows, the result of a skiing accident and another from a fall while dancing during a drunken orgy that was a friend’s birthday. Except of course going under the knife. And that will never be an option for me. Perhaps some of the lines created by my excessively animated facial expressions might respond to some ironing out. Rather that, than a syringe full of toxins pumped into my face resulting in a mask effect. Fancy not be able to show your feelings on your face. Yes I know there are hundreds of thousands out there, mainly young women, who swear by botox injections and collagen fillers.
Perhaps this new little hand-held wonder device/machine, the size of a mobile phone, my friend called a ‘galvanic spa’ and the various phials of ageLoc facial gels might help minimise the years of sun damage and some of the evidence of my life’s experiences.
Have any of you found that, like me, one side of your face is worse than the other? With me it’s the right side, the side exposed to the sun when driving, the side I sleep on.
When I arrived at the venue where I was assured I’d see the difference demonstrated before my eyes after only a ten-minute treatment, I was confronted with a network of overly-excited people. Oh, here we go again, I thought. I’m always a little suspicious when people are too enthusiastic.
The image they use as a promotion gets me in. Oh, if only.
Anxious to confirm her claims, my friend sat me down and organised a galvanic spa treatment on one side of my face only so that I’d be able to see the difference when it was finished. ‘Which side?’ she asked. I chose the left side, not wanting to disappoint her if my right side did not show a demonstrable difference, as I suspected might be the case. After ten minutes, I must say the results were impressive, even if on my good side, but I was not prepared for the intense scrutiny I received as people came up and touched my skin, asked me to move my head around in the light, took close-ups on cameras, and I mean close-ups, the cameras almost against my cheek. I was a hit.
But it was only half a face and the question was, would it last?
The day before I flew out, my friend gave me a full-face treatment and I must admit I glowed. She also suggested that I take a spa with me to Dubai where the excessive heat and air conditioning, plus the dehydration of the plane trip, would wreak havoc with my skin.
Just another thing to fit in my suitcase. Something had to go: hair dryer and hair products. Just as well I look good in scarves.
I’ll keep you up to date on this anti-ageing treatment in later blogs.
What do you think about Mary Wesley?
Can you imagine a woman of seventy-one being described in the press as a ‘promising new talent’?
Can you believe that between the ages of seventy and ninety a woman could have ten bestsellers published?
Can you believe that a woman of this age would write about such taboo subjects as incest, matricide, suicide, prostitution and sex?
English writer Mary Wesley did. And she also worked in intelligence for MI5 during the war, had three children by three different men, and began a love affair with Robert Bolt at sixty-nine.
I just love some of her sayings.
‘A lot of people stop short. They don’t actually die but they say, ‘Right, I’m old, and I’m off to retire,’ and then they dwindle into nothing. They go to Florida and become jolly boring.’
‘I have no patience with people who grow old at sixty just because they are entitled to a bus pass. Sixty should be the time to start something new, not put your feet up.’
‘Of course risk-taking does not always pay off, but it’s a lot of fun.’
‘ We’re all like children. We may think we grow up but to me, being grown up is death, stopping thinking, trying to find out things, going on learning.’
What do you think?
Can you believe that between the ages of seventy and ninety a woman could have ten bestsellers published?
Can you believe that a woman of this age would write about such taboo subjects as incest, matricide, suicide, prostitution and sex?
English writer Mary Wesley did. And she also worked in intelligence for MI5 during the war, had three children by three different men, and began a love affair with Robert Bolt at sixty-nine.
I just love some of her sayings.
‘A lot of people stop short. They don’t actually die but they say, ‘Right, I’m old, and I’m off to retire,’ and then they dwindle into nothing. They go to Florida and become jolly boring.’
‘I have no patience with people who grow old at sixty just because they are entitled to a bus pass. Sixty should be the time to start something new, not put your feet up.’
‘Of course risk-taking does not always pay off, but it’s a lot of fun.’
‘ We’re all like children. We may think we grow up but to me, being grown up is death, stopping thinking, trying to find out things, going on learning.’
What do you think?
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