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The Re-Birth of Inspiration

Updated: Aug 10, 2018

Oooh Golly! What an inspiring post I just read from Francesca Cassini, founder of  The Silver Tent!

There was I, thinking I could change the world

– charging headlong into B.I.G. ideas while nearly everyone I knew looked on in bemusement – like I was just having an attack of grandeur to think anyone would be interested in my ideas because we weren’t people who did big stuff, or questioned things, or rocked the proverbial boat.

We knew our place. We went along with the defined order. We didn’t put up a struggle against the old paradigms we were moulded to fit into with barely a squeak.

And besides which, pipe down because you’re shaking someone else’s perch when you talk like that.

We must tread lightly around them, and if they behave all mean, it’s not really their fault.

The fact that I was deeply intuitive and aware of the truth behind the bravado of certain males made me something of a threat – to be squashed back down at every opportunity – by ‘God’, as it happens, as was the nick-name popular among a certain someone's buds, and to a less overt degree, by the ‘normal’ dynamic: to conform; to not question; to toe the appointed line and not make a noise unless it was to reaffirm that you were no real threat to the status quo; to not dare to show that I understood stuff certain people didn’t even understand themselves.

Almost no one I knew got what had burst through the constricting walls of the chrysalis I’d been living in for so long. And in later years, more careworn by the choices I’d made, but more intellectually and passionately alive than ever, when I was steaming ahead, so full of the intense excitement for the creation that had been birthed from my experience as a daughter, sister, mother, wife of men that I couldn’t register the words of the nay-sayers – I was unafraid. ‘I’ didn’t matter. ‘I’ was almost irrelevant. My vision had become my mission.

I had dared to speak about my thoughts – to a coach/friend (a stroke of pure divine ‘luck’) and it was like someone kicked a big rock off the head of a geyser and all of a sudden, all this ‘stuff’ began gushing out all over the place! I became like a woman possessed.

Because it all felt so much bigger than me, I wasn’t in my own way. Words flew out of my mouth in all the right ways and in all the right places and I would wonder – where the hell did that come from?

I PR’d up a storm because my idea was attracting a fair amount of interest.

Things just flowed like magic.

An inspired mission statement just appeared in my mind like a fully formed glittering diamond hewn from a dirty old piece of coal I hadn’t even touched – one that still awes me today. I felt plugged in; like some unbelievable energy was flowing through me.

Then I lost confidence.

I let the things I was trying to change and the people clinging onto the old way like to question it meant you deserved to be vilified and made into a laughing stock of the highest order.

I was bruised, scared, I felt foolish – and I scuttled under my rock to lick my wounds and talk myself back down to earth.

Who are you?

You’re just an (ex)wife, a mother, a daughter, a sister who thought too much.

OK, so you got an NLP Master Practitioner qualification – doesn’t mean anything much. I mean, 'Who do you think you are – some kind of amateur psychologist?’ God said to me in a sneering put down.

And I carried the put downs on. ‘You have no string of successes; no long list of companies you turned around; no professional credibility to speak of ..’, and on it went.

After years of struggle trying to get things off the ground with no money, no support, and a few bad choices of ‘advisors’; going from all-in, to part-time shitty job so I could stay afloat, to all-in again – always broke, always trying to push water up hill, always hearing the same old ‘why don’t you just get a normal job like everyone else?’ (and implicitly, give up this crazy stupid idea you dreamed up)! Hearing someone I loved almost more than anyone else – the very person who began this ball rolling say those words too – that was crushing.

There was no concept of the lifelong love and compassion that had given birth to this thing. No understanding that this was the way I could make sense of the difficult challenges I’d struggled with, a sensitive feminine energy in a sea of emotionally repressed masculine, a way I felt I might be able to do something that could help to soothe the pain of men.

No sense of the enormity of it, or of the fact that I could no more give up on it (at that time) than I could stand on my head while reciting a Shakespearean sonnet backward to the tune of Dancing Queen.

That stung me particularly harshly!

Delivering it felt like the meaning of my life. Feeling like an idiot because maybe they were right and I should just do what everyone else does and get my head out of the clouds – go get a ‘real’ job!

And so I closed down the charitable company I had set up. I packed away my dreams. And I wandered, lonely as a cloud ..

Until I dared to start sharing a bit again, feeling a little ashamed at first – like I was lurking on shady street corners wearing a dirty old mac and drinking from a brown paper bag as I tried to hide this thing that won’t be silenced.

I opened up again – in this divine creation of Francesca's – The Silver Tent – a welcoming, inspiring, uplifting domain for women over 50 – the powerful feminine – 'elders' – who for too long have been sidelined as irrelevant. Professional woman. Mothers. Artists. Creators. Incredibly wise, richly experienced, bold and brave!

And I heard words of encouragement.

And I shared some more.

And I felt the warmth of acceptance among my peers that I never felt before – of this divinity within myself.

And I began to grow courageous again; to feel that it wasn’t ‘dirty’ at all – but the highest potential of my being.

And then those words of another courageous woman who saw what was needed in the world of the repressed feminine.

Finally, I stand up in my power.

Unashamed of it.

No longer feeling I must ‘contain’.

Thank you.

I am lifted on the wings of the divine feminine.

I am newly alive!

Francesca's Inspiration here

The Silver Tent here

With love,

Trish Brennan


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