For now, I am a river

Occasional extra bit, #7

Earlier this year, I did a personal development course that changed my life: it laid some ghosts, it helped me to get my feet back on solid ground after Lou’s death, it helped me to understand what I want my life to be. (I I first mentioned it in this newsletter.) Our amazing facilitator guided us through a lot of different models and ways of thinking. All of them brought something to light for everyone. Some were more powerful than others. For me, one of the most significant things we explored was archetypes.

I knew what I understood an archetype to be: a universal figure, pattern, or motif, something recognisable to all. My writer’s brain is lousy with them, from character types (the hero, the ingenue, the stranger) to plots (rags to riches, the quest). If you’re not sure what I mean by and archetype, then think of a fairy-tale, because a fairy-tale is archetypes in action. Traditional fairy-tales and folk-tales - places where we learn about the rules of the world - don’t strive for subtlety. They give us archetypes rather individuals: wicked stepmothers, brave princes, beautiful virgins*. And the stories are archetypical, too. You won’t find a twist you didn’t see coming in a fairy tale. You get what you expect and what you hope for, and this is why archetypes run deep in us, culturally and socially.

(I promise, we are getting to the river.)

Something I hadn’t thought about until the course I took, was how I could use archetypes to help me in my life. We worked with the Magician, who is the archetype to bring forward for creativity. (Mine is always close at hand.) Then there is the Lover, soft and open; the Warrior, armoured and ready for battle; the Sovereign, taking charge with wisdom and vision. We learned to deliberately bring forth these archetypes when we needed them. The Warrior for a tough negotiation or difficult conversation; the Lover when vulnerability is something that is necessary, even if not comfortable; the Sovereign for stepping into power, the Magician for calling forth imagination.

Of course, at the time I learned about and started using these archetypes, I was not planning for a life without Beloved Mr Butland. As anyone who has dealt with sudden illness, and been thrust into the world of hospitals and navigating complexity in a situation you didn’t know you were going to be in will know, it is A Lot. And having these archetypes to hand really, really helped.

The Warrior was useful when I had to overcome my desire to Not Cause A Fuss and get help for Alan. When it became clear that Alan’s health was permanently compromised, I invited my Magician to help me to figure out how I could bring him home, and within days had converted the dining room into a place where Alan could comfortably be without needing to go upstairs.** I called for the Sovereign when I needed to advocate for Alan and make sure he was treated well.*** And the Lover worked overtime. Not only in the night and day and night again I sat with Alan, knowing he was dying, telling him everything I had loved and would always treasure, but in the phone calls I had to make during and afterwards, when to be businesslike would be easy but to be open is right. In the moments after he died I sat next to him, and thought, what does my Lover want, and I got into bed with him and held him, and it was as close to a perfect way to say goodbye as we could have got.

(We are nearly at the river.)

In the weeks since, my archetypes have continued to help in this new, unwanted life. The Warrior has no time for nonsense when it comes to dealing with admin. The Magician has sometimes had to be coaxed to the fore, but she has shown up, and allowed me to write and think and escape into elsewhere. The Sovereign knows that it’s part of the job to do hard things, and make tough calls, and she does it. The Lover says, things cannot be buried. You can feel your feelings. I promise that you are safe.

Last time I wrote a newsletter, I told you that I was thinking of myself as a leaf on a river. That stuck in my mind**** and I’ve been mulling it since. Partly because I knew it wasn’t quite right. And this week, on the train back from London, watching countryside and towns and all those lives being lived roll past the window, I thought: what if you have another archetype? What if you need to step into your River?

A river begins where it begins, and it cannot go back, however it might want to. A river flows; it is never the same twice. A river might become sluggish, it might speed on, it might be furious and destructive. A river does not move in a straight line. A river is part of the life around it, but essentially itself. A river is in transit. There are things that sink in it, and things that float.

And one day, a river reaches the sea, and though it does not disappear, it is absorbed into something bigger. It is part of the greater world again.

So for now, my friends, I am a river. (Not always, but it is the archetype I am reaching for most often to help me make sense of my days and nights.) Moving through the days whether I want to or not. Finding things bumpy and rocky. Plunging over cliffs. Sparkling onwards. Letting things sink to the bottom, and leaving them behind. Not for a moment thinking that this day, this feeling, this version of the world is fixed.

I’m not sure whether this reads like sense or madness, but it’s where I am. And if you’re in grief, you might recognise the river that is in you.

(I have discovered that I prefer to think of myself as containing a river, than being in one.)

Until next time,

Stephanie x

PS Kind people are reaching out to ask what support I need. Honestly, I don’t know, but asking the question helps in itself. Thank you. And boringly, I still have bills to pay, so if you know someone who might want to work with me, or buy some fabulous Lost For Words merch, or read one of my books, please pass this on. Also, if you like what I am doing with this newsletter, which is free and will remain so, you can always buy me a Ko-Fi.*****

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*virginity often implied, but we can read between the patriarchal lines, can we not?!

**something I discovered and am still discovering is how kind people can be. A local furniture shop exchanged my big old Ikea table for something small and foldable, doing the dismantling-and-taking-away that I was dreading. Family built the daybed. Friends listened to me explaining my plan with the detail and ferocious passion of someone who has just discovered Star Wars, or football, or knitting.

***he was; medical staff throughout were amazing. But there are things that only a beloved will know, and they need to communicate them in a way that means they are heard.

****with this newsletter, as with novels, quite often I write to find out.

*****cup of tea