A little indecison on my part for this one, should I share it? Should I not? But then in sharing this I would also like to share that the woman for whom it was written did indeed leave an abusive marriage of 40 years, not immediately but she did.

For Twelve days this Christmas we decided to publish twelve stories. These stories are metaphors told by participants on our NLP Practitioner Course as part of their weekend on Metaphor, Milton and Changing and Adapting.

Most of these people thought they couldn’t write a story, in fact some of them start the weekend muttering ‘I can’t do this’ – well enjoy........

Present state:       A lot of indecision in life at the moment

                             Wants to leave husband
                             Does not want to leave her house
                             Husband won’t leave
                             Husband doesn’t want her to go
                             Dreads having to start again!
                    

Desired state:      Roof over her head

                            Nobody bothering her
                            Peace and quiet
                            Looking after 1 person rather than 2
                            A lot happier!

Tilly and Tally

 

Tally didn’t want me to go she liked standing tall beside me, sharing my nurture but deep down I knew I had to go.   I was in her shade, the sunshine didn’t always reach my leaves, I had no room to blossom and my roots were getting squashed.

I wasn’t sure if I would survive at first, it was scary being uprooted and moving somewhere new, why couldn’t Tally go after all that piece of grassland was mine as much as hers?

Now I can see why.  

The new soil was fresh, full of goodness.  I have grown taller, much, much taller and I can see far and wide.  I notice I can hear clearer as I listen to the peace and quiet. The sun always reaches my leaves and I feel the warmth that it sends all the way down to my roots.  I enjoy the space.  My roots have spread out and have grown strong.  My leaves no longer rattle everywhere in the wind, they gently flow in the softly blowing breeze, as I stand proud.