Craving the Life I Left Behind

Embracing Change and Growth

Dearest readers,

There’s a truth I don’t often say out loud. However, I am finding it easier lately. As some of you know, I have been working with non-attachment. I have been delving deeper into my subconscious, my shadow, journeying in my mind, setting intentions, and allowing things to reveal themselves in everyday life. It’s been enlightening, and I have felt attachments to things I never realised I still held.

Before this life you see me living now, the one here in the Peak District, the one filled with warmth and safety, I was a Reiki Master, a Herbalist, a Nan, and the Matriarch of a big family. I was known as Arthur, the circle holder.

But the truth is, in what feels like a different life, I lived on the edges. I was homeless on the streets of London. I was trapped in addiction. I was surviving moment to moment, often not knowing where I would sleep, what I would eat, or how I would make it through the days and nights.

And yet, sometimes, I miss it. Weird, right? I realised I still had an attachment to this time during my recent Shamanic quest over two months with a beautiful group of people. This attachment was in my body and my mind. Not to the pain, not to the loneliness, not to the cold nights, or the fear that crept in when everything went quiet in the city.

When you dare not sleep, it’s always safer to sleep during the day. But I sometimes miss the “aliveness,” the unpredictability. You see, when you live like that, on the edge, everything is immediate. Raw. Now. You are not planning for next week or worrying about how you’ll be perceived. You are simply in it. Fully. Completely.

The Beauty of the Present Moment

The present moment isn’t something you strive for; it’s all you have. There’s a strange kind of freedom and beauty in that. With all the busyness of this world and the constant onslaught of everything around us, we all seek to be present, to be in the moment, to have five minutes of peace, and to ‘be here now.’

These realizations of shadow attachments reminded me of a podcast called City of the Rails by Danelle Morton. Danelle’s daughter ran away from home to live on the trains. The podcast follows stories of people Danelle met while searching for her daughter. People living transient lives, riding trains, choosing, or falling into, a life outside of structure.

What struck me wasn’t just the hardship but the pull. The reason people return, again and again, even when they know how hard it is. There is community and connection in being an ‘outcast.’ Living that life strips everything back. No masks. No long-term illusions. Just the next step, the next breath, the next moment.

I met many people on the streets of London who chose that life, opting out of the entanglement of society. Personally, this wasn’t a choice. I was homeless through no fault of my own. For years, I didn’t talk about it. I felt embarrassed and ashamed.

During my recent Shamanic work, I realised that I still have an attachment to being an ‘outcast.’ When you’ve lived that way, “normal life” can feel really heavy. There are expectations, responsibilities, and layers of identity to maintain. Sometimes, the nervous system remembers the chaos as freedom. It remembers the intensity as ‘feeling alive.’

Cravings can still come, not just for substances, cigarettes, and alcohol, but for that edge, that immediacy, that sense of being untethered. The wildness and unpredictability. This doesn’t mean I want to go back. Of course, I don’t, and I have really put a lot of work into being who I am today. It wasn’t easy at times.

Honouring My Journey

But it does mean that I honour that part of me. I am proud of the Jan that learned how to survive. The Jan that found beauty in broken places. The Jan that lived so fiercely in the present moment that nothing else existed.

Now, I walk a different path. One where I consciously return to the present. To find the still place in my mind and heart. Here I am now, safe. Every morning I wake up, I am so grateful for my life. Yet, presence in a “safe” life can require a lot of practice!

It can be hard not to be distracted. It’s difficult to find the time to sit and allow ourselves to feel what’s alive for us. To stay with ourselves even when it’s uncomfortable. It doesn’t come with the same adrenaline or urgency of being homeless or waiting to score another hit.

But it does hold something deeper. A quieter kind of freedom. The freedom to be here, in this moment, without running. To choose stillness instead of chaos. To choose awareness instead of escape. To choose life, not just survival.

And maybe that’s the real journey. Because the present moment is always here. Even now. And in that place, when and if we are willing to meet it, there is a freedom that doesn’t cost us anything.

The Layers of Our Lives

It’s a funny old life, as my old Dad would say. And as Shrek says: “Ogres are like onions because they both have layers.” This is true of us humans too.

If you would like to work with me, you can rest assured there will be no judgement, simply a place to be heard and seen. Together, we can build you back up.

Please look at my services page for 1-2-1 sessions or drop me an email. And check my events page for group gatherings.

Brightest blessings and much love as always,

Jan