a gift of darkness
‘Someone I loved once gave me a box full of darkness. It took me years to understand that this too, was a gift.’ ~ Mary Oliver
5:00am. Incense burning. Candles flickering. The crescent moon smiling at me through the glass doors. I’m cocooned in nights dark cloak, lulled by the stillness as the world around me sleeps.
This is Vata time. An auspicious time for meditation, contemplation and prayer. A prayer is a thank you. I’m so grateful for all of it. The joys, the laughter, the pain, the struggles, heartbreaks, injuries, my mistakes, every single person I’ve connected with, everyone I’ve learned from, every glittering transition of this mysterious dance of life.
So how did I get here? I recently rediscovered my old travel blog from 2010 which tells part of the story. But let’s rewind a little.
🖤
I was born in Herefordshire, England. I spent an idyllic ‘free range’ childhood running around the countryside, getting chased by cows, collecting caterpillars for pets and fighting with my brother, the only other child around.
My parents met at uni in London and had a dream of moving to the countryside, so they packed up everything and bought a dilapidated ruin of a cottage in a tiny hamlet called Norton Canon. My Dad and his hippy friends built ‘Pool Cottage’ and it’s still standing strong today, almost 40 years later.
The house build took about 3 years longer than planned as they kept running out of money. Mum and Dad were living in a caravan in the garden until Mum got fed up with the freezing winters and moved out, giving Dad even more motivation to get the house finished. They tell me neither of them were that keen on having children. Mum tells me Dad convinced her and Dad says the opposite (hi Mum & Dad!), but whatever the case, they decided and my brother and I came into existence.
I may be biased but my parents are THE BEST PARENTS IN THE WORLD! They’ve always showered me with unconditional love, taught me how to be independent, instilled core values of kindness, non-judgement, courage and truth seeking. They’ve accepted and supported every single choice I’ve made. They’ve given me space to carve out my own path, make my own mistakes and step into my own power.
Our relationship has not been without it’s challenges. When I turned 13 I transformed (seemingly overnight) from a quiet little girl who read lots of books, sucked her thumb and spent hours writing stories about the fairies in the garden, into a nightmare teenager. Suddenly the beautiful Herefordshire countryside wasn’t enough for me. I wanted glitz and glamour. I wanted romance, excitement, fast cars and expensive things. I wanted rebellion. I was ‘leaving home’ as Tara Brach puts it, literally and metaphorically.
At 15 I started getting into clubs, dancing all night, experimenting with recreational drugs, not telling my parents where I was, the typical teenage antics. School plummeted to the bottom of my priorities. I was constantly getting detentions for the way I looked, I died my hair every possible colour. I got everything I could pierced. My skirts got shorter. My heels got higher. I grew up really fast.
I met my first serious boyfriend at 15. He was 10 years older than me. He had money. He had a car and not just any car, a convertible. He was extremely charismatic, everyone loved him and everyone was a little bit scared of him. He was the quintessential ‘bad boy’. It’s important to tell this story as it plays a big part in my leaving England. I offer complete love, forgiveness and kindness to everyone involved and I understand we were all simply doing the best we could with the tools available to us at the time. I’m extremely grateful for all of it, even the seemingly painful parts.
I moved out of home really young. We bought a house together when I was 18, a little one story house in a tiny suburb called Peterchurch. I remember signing those mortgage papers. I remember the feeling of the pen in my hand, the sudden urge to run. We got engaged. I was trying on wedding dresses, looking at the person staring back at me with dead eyes, wondering ‘who is that?’
As my school friends were partying at uni, I was picking out washing machines. Very quickly the excitement of dating an older man became stale. This was the opposite of exciting. He wasn’t interested in adventures and travel, he was ready to settle down. I felt absolutely suffocated and had no idea how to get out. He was also extremely controlling, jealous and often angry. We were both taking a lot of drugs and drinking a lot. I tried to leave once but he threatened suicide so I went back, because I really believed he would do it. I was 19.
I spent 5 years of my life living with him in this house. I was in such a dark place, I used to wake up in the middle of the night crying. I had no idea how to get out. I felt like I couldn’t ask for help, because I’d made my choice and I was the only one who could save me. I lost all my friends, I lost my sense of self. My soul went into hiding. I dulled my light so much I thought it had gone out.Those years were the darkest of my life.
When I was 23 I got a break. I applied for a job at Concern Universal, an NGO based in Hereford who worked with communities in many countries across Africa and South America. Amazingly I got the job, despite having no experience or qualifications. This gave me the boost of confidence I needed to finally leave the relationship. His behaviour had become worse and worse, but I wasn’t taking it anymore. It came to a head one night when I ‘disobeyed’ his orders to not go out with my friends. He arrived at the club and literally pulled me off the dance floor by my hair. The police came, they begged me to press charges but I didn’t.
The next day I booked a day off work, gathered up my things, wrote a short letter and left. I went back to my parents and told them everything. I was free.
That was the beginning of a new life. I used the money I had from the house sale to buy a one way flight to Bangkok in 2010 and then fund several years of round the world travel. I lived on $5 a day in SE Asia, travelled around the East Coast of Australia in a Mitsubishi Magna, drove around the US in a beaten up Ford Van, waited tables in Toronto and eventually made it back to Sydney to start my yoga teacher training.
Thank you to every single one of you for sharing your story with me and inspiring me so much! Without you, I wouldn't be here. I can't wait to see you!
Love Clare x