Therapy

Ah, the first day of British summertime...and the sun is actually shining. Not only that - it is shining in Scotland! I know because I've been studying the forecast - on my way, as I am, for  a 4 day visit to my homeland tomorrow. I can't wait to see Max, and my darling Grandma, as well as all my favourite friends & relations. Therapy indeed.


But it is Therapy that has kept me from them since my last trip in early December. For while I may have been trying to hibernate (and indeed feel as if my brain has atrophied) I've actually been hard at work making sure that our wee shop is in tip top shape for the year.


If you didn't know me & read my blog you'd be forgiven for thinking that all I do is sit around & contemplate my navel. In reality I'm a shopkeeper, a fashion buyer, a "Company Director" no less! But I still feel like a wee lassie playing at shops. Which is probably why I never mention what I do for a living. Well, can you blame me for not dwelling on my full time job? Choosing pretty things; making our wee shop look inviting; selling clothes to lovely customers - it hardly counts as work.


Therapy is what it is - for me, and hopefully for the ladies who visit our little emporium. Eight years ago when Chris & I were planning our new business in Petworth, we couldn't decide on a name for the shop. So Chris asked me what I wanted it to be. "Somewhere relaxing & inviting, where ladies can browse, with nice music & a warm welcome, where they can have a good time whether they spend money or not - a bit of therapy". And so our business was born.


And it was therapy for me too. To be in a new place, far from home & family, knowing only a handful of people, my mum recently dead after a long illness, could have been stressful. And instead the shop healed me. I was in my element. I poured my energies into creating a haven for myself as much as for my customers. And the wonderful women who have shared their time & life stories (and money - thank you very much!) have enriched my life.


Fashion is fun, shopkeeping isn't brain surgery. Doing what I do, I have no reason to be stressed. Not that that's stopped me. But now I realise that any stress I've had has been self inflicted. Not content with our one perfect shop, we tried expanding - a shoe shop, a children's shop, a frock shop - spreading ourselves and our finances too thin. I see now that I was driven by my inner demons - a desire to escape the pain and turmoil that still existed in my personal life, a need to prove myself, to drown out the critics in my head.


Having come full circle, back to our one original shop, I am once again able to focus on the elements that inspired me all those years ago. Through my navel gazing I have come to understand that we all have our dharma - a path that we must follow in order to uphold good and find our individual salvation. For most of my life I'd imagined that my dharma would be something noble, something more...oh Laura...


But now I have come to understand that shopkeeping is what I do best. While I might still harbour dreams of being Mother Theresa, or berate myself for not being Michelangelo, I can accept that my small contribution to a happier life (for me & for my lovely customers) is good enough. Selecting beautiful colours & fabrics, finding the perfect linen skirt or yummy cashmere sweater - making my customers smile - is good enough. And I have a nice time too.     

Today is Good Friday. The weather has reverted to winter (not so good for business, but nothing I can do about that). I will sit in my little shop & smile and chat to anyone who ventures in - offering chocolate eggs & words of advice, making sure that everyone leaves with a smile, if not with a carrier bag, hopeful that they will return.


My trip to Scotland was a triumph. The weather continued warm & sunny, allowing me to sit outside with Max and with my darling Grandma. Despite her failing memory, we sat in peace together and I told her over and over how much I love her. Not knowing who I was made no difference - she smiled and thanked me for my love. And I in turn found peace and acceptance in her aged situation. At one point, thinking her asleep, I touched her arm. Without moving she spoke:


"I'm not sleeping - just being still."


A lesson indeed.


More lessons followed as Max & I sat in the sunshine and shared our individual demons. As we watched the sun set over Edinburgh from Holyrood Park, we agreed to let go of past pain and allowed room for the good memories to surface. I felt healed.


It has taken a long time - a decade - but time is a great healer - or at least it can be if we are willing to learn, to understand, to forgive - ourselves as well as each other.


It is now more than 8 years since we found the old butchers shop that is now our Therapy emporium, nearly 9 years since mum died. My last meal in Scotland was with my Step Dad, Tom. We met in my favourite restaurant, on the shores of the River Forth, with views of my favourite edifice - the Forth Rail Bridge. As the sun glinted on red, we laughed and reminisced in the company of his delightful companion Violet (aka Morag). To see him happy and relaxed after the pain we had shared after Mum's death, filled me with joy. Time is indeed a great healer.


Amen.