A very prestigious awards ceremony has just taken place. It happened at the Dorchester Hotel in London. I know about it because I have only just, in the early hours of the morning, returned from it. I had no option but to attend and I have thought long and hard about the wisdom of my sharing this but, given that it won’t receive any other publicity, I feel compelled. It was you see an award ceremony held in my name. It was ‘The Stephen Morris 2024 Resilience Awards’ and what a night it turned out to be!
More accurately; what a dream it turned out to be! I have literally just woken from the above dream. I don’t remember my dreams very often. When I do it is because they are significant and usually indicate that my unconscious is serving me well.
At the awards ceremony, I was presenting the awards myself. My role was to call onto the stage from the vast audience those being honoured for the role they had played in causing resilience. I called their name and described their particular contribution. I handed them the award and they all formed a long line across the glamorous and sparkling Dorchester stage.
What a line-up of complete bastards filled that stage. For each person present was someone from my life who, in one way or another, had visited upon me some form of immense sorrow, sadness, hate, abuse, mistreatment, accusation, bullying, lying or other form of less than kind treatment. Others represented situations or occurrences that at some point in my life had taken me to the depths of despair; loss, illness, depression, anxiety. From childhood to the present day, the complete shit shower was all there.
One by one they were all handed their award and one by one I thanked them for making me what and who I am today. For providing me with the insight, wisdom and knowingness that helps me each day to stand and face with resilience any new award seeker who may come my way. Sometimes, it would seem that there is an endless supply.
I woke from the dream amused and disturbed. Most of those at that ceremony were people I, for good reasons, have chosen not to have an ongoing part in my life. It was not nice to see and hear them again. It was scary, anxiety provoking and yes, painful. But of course, I cannot deny that their awards were anything less than genuine. That the consequences of their past behaviours and being in my life have been anything less than authentic. To deny that would be to deny who I am today and I am very happy with exactly that.
Would I have ever imagined ever giving each of the shit shower an award? No! of course not. Only in my wildest of dreams!
In and at the time of our adversities, our endurances, our storms, our shit showers, our sufferings and our unwanted experiences, it is almost impossible to know what will be left for us and of us once they end.
Only with hindsight, reflection and a willingness to know our history can we begin to recognise such. Having survived, something unimaginable emerges. Something beyond the awfulness is born, shapes us and enables us. That something I know now for certain is, resilience. Difficult to describe, to see or hear but powerfully present in its experience and in its residing.
Would I want a repetition of the experiences that I have seemingly just awarded? No. Do I value and need my resilience? Yes! Yes! Yes! Such is this paradox of my life. Your life. I guess you too can have an awards ceremony and I guess that it won’t be very different from mine. If ever there was a time to have one surely, it is now!
Br Stephen Morris fcc
