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The Kindness of Strangers – Part 1

March 21, 2013

Dare I say this? Can I muster the resolve? Do I really want to ‘risk’ being ‘positive’?

Sure I do!

I have been carrying such pain, burden and struggling in this 3D world recently (or has it been always??), as many of you know from reading my blog posts for the past six weeks…


I can see a Light. It has been there for a while now (a few days at least) and thus my creativity has returned (I’m writing like Salman Rushdie on acid) and, drum roll please – this seems to be (finally) being reflected back to me in my environment. I will go into detail about this later (just need to dot I’s and cross T’s)… because this post is a tribute to the Light that has carried me through:


When I was at my worst point – my very, very worst of, well – absolute insanity actually, at one point I spent a half-hour curled up under the dining room table rocking and making gibbering noises – I had lost the plot.* This was how bad things really got for me and from the outside it was ugly. It was pretty darn unattractive from the inside too – but the point I am making is this:-


I have even, to some degree, avoided it in my posts – I avoided reality, sorry about that and I promise to do my best not to avoid it again (if I do, tell me) – Strangers were by far the most supportive during this intense ‘ugliness’. On the day I just referred to, a client whom I have met only twice (for Holistic Therapy) text me to see if he could pop in as he was visiting Manchester for the day. It was bizarre (and arguably unethical) that he had done this (why would he?) and further bizarre that, after half-heartedly saying ‘No, I am barking mad’ – that I AGREED and he did indeed ‘pop-in’ to find me unshowered, hair greasy and knotted, tears stains streaming down my face, shaking like a jelly with horrendous breath!

God love me.

This stranger saw straight through all that – right into my soul. I was mortified (but helpless) at the nakedness of my humanity. I had been backed into a corner and forced to yell:


So without judgement or hassle, this guy who I hardly knew, followed me through into the living room, sat beside me on the tiny sofa and –

Stroked me for two and a half hours.


He was silent, gentle – in control. Because I could no longer be any of these.

“I’m going mad!” I yelled.

“No. You are just having a bad day”. He replied.

“I look like shit!!”. I protested.

“You don’t look your best – but you do not look like shit”. He stated.

I was, in those precious moments – held skilfully into my imploding nature. I needed to rest into the darkness that had been lurking within my psyche for many, many years – and that rest came in the form of a stranger.

He held me – when no-one else could.


Some weeks following this, I was visiting a festival being held in the city centre and approached a stall advertising a local Credit Union (basically a bank and loan company run by and for local communities) and after the gentlemen had given me the leaflets, he asked me what I did. I always find this question a tricky one because I do so many things and often struggle to say it without sounded big-headed or flighty(!) – but this day I simply said: I’m a writer.

I then noticed two things:

I couldn’t look him in the eye and I felt embarrassed.

So I followed that up with: “But it doesn’t make me any money”.

He wasn’t having any of that:

“But it will. You never know how quickly these things can turn around. I had a friend once who…” This loving, witty Irish gentleman then told me a story about his friend who’s son had written a play that appeared to be about bare knuckle fighting but turned out to be about how he freed himself from poverty sowing costumes for the theatre and writing. On the outside this fella was a hard-nut, the son of a hard-nut, brought up in a, yep, hard-nut environment, but on the inside this guy was – “A talented gay lad from Salford” In the words of this very proud Irish Gent telling me this heart warming story.

As I thanked him, the elderley Gentleman shook my hand with such force, looked me straight in the eye and said: “Good luck Son”.

I could have wept.

A stranger, yet again, looked right into my soul – and held me. Interesting that a lot of this Light from strangers has been from Men. As I write this I am having a mini-epiphany –

I miss my dad.

I have (and am) learned so much in such a short space of time about defence mechanisms, the need to explode sometimes, implode, strip bare and re-boot – in order to be honest and authentic.


So for this, part 1 of ‘The Kindness of Strangers’I applaud you. I thank you from my heart. I could not have climbed out of that pit without you.

Until Next Time,

Matt xx

*More on this further down the line, stick with me :-).

  1. pangirlbrit permalink

    I am happy to see that even complete strangers pretty much…were there for you. Seeing and hearing and reading these things help me keep faith in humanity. I have been feeling really shitty too lately, just to put it bluntly. Hang in there, and I look forward to reading and seeing more. 🙂

    • Good to hear from you and yes, it seems that the shittyness is affecting a lot of very sensitive people – as the ‘old ways’ cling on for dear life – they cling to those who will hurt the most.


      Those who hurt the most, see the most – so all we really need to do is STOP, SIT STILL – and surrender into what IS – this will then lead us to where we are supposed to be.

      Hoping that makes sense! Keep the faith (Matt – take own advice!) 🙂


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