Like last week, I am still reading Martha Beck’s Finding Your Own North Star.  Also like last week, I am still finding it just difficult.  Huge resistance is coming up.  This is despite being on to the seemingly ‘nice’ chapter where you think about good memories rather than the time you humiliated yourself in front of a vast audience (or even just one special person).  I started off all enthusiastic but this ebbed away the moment I reached the exercises…what is that all about?  All I can figure is that I’m scared of what I might find; or more specifically, what I might *not* find.  What if I can’t remember enough joyous moments to fill out the answer space? Ridiculous, I know.  As French novelist Colette observed, ‘What a wonderful life I’ve had! I only wish I’d realised it sooner’.


I’ve just started to read Martha Beck’s “Finding Your Own North Star”. I’ve only got through chapters one and two and already it is blowing my mind. How can a few “Write down a time when…” exercises drop a plumb line into your soul and retrieve the secrets you’ve been keeping even from yourself? Staring at the blooms before me feels like the only way to keep hold of things.