Page 102 of Vivacity
‘I dunno—more physical time together, I suppose. Which is tough because of our custody arrangement. And when Elena hears about what’s happened, she willnotbe up for that. But I want to spend more quality time with him, not just downtime at the weekends when we’re both knackered. He’s in therapy, you know. I think I told you that. And I know now that it’s me who needs to do a lot of the work, but still—I’m wondering if we want to do something jointly. Something like this. Even if it would be excruciating.’
‘That’s definitely possible. And yes, parts of it will be confronting, but parts can be beautiful, too. There are even littlerituals that we do in the IFS space where a child can pass some of the burdens their parents have put onto them back to that parent.’
‘Shit. That would be a lot of rituals.’ And unspeakably uncomfortable.
He smiles encouragingly. ‘It can wait until you’re both ready. So I’m hearing: more quality time; more emotional connection and opportunities for you to demonstrate your unconditional love and support for him; and possibly even some kind of joint therapy as a way to process some of this shared trauma you may have.’
I nod. It sounds terrifying and insane and borderline undoable, but also exhilarating. Hopeful.
‘If you feel comfortable, I’d like you to check back in with your ice king part, if you have access to him. Ask him what he would say to all this when he’s at his most fiercely protective, holding up all those walls to keep you safe.’
I cock my head and try to consider. I can feel him more clearly than I can envisage him—an icy, impenetrable wall at the head of my boardroom table. ‘He saysfuck, no.’
He chuckles softly. ‘He’s always been your most extreme bodyguard, from what I’ve seen, anyway. And yet, when you were telling me what you felt in your heart that your son needs from you right now, I didn’t hear him at all.’
I go stock still, because he’s right. And that icy guy may be there, but it’s as if he’s off duty. He’s observing, not wading in.
‘What I did hear,’ Philip continues, ‘was courage, when it comes to doing right by Jamie. Clarity of purpose.Compassion. Those are all hallmarks of Self Leadership—in fact, they’re three of the eight Cs, as I’ve mentioned before. That calm, clear voice is your Self, and it’s not making decisions from a place of fear. It’s making decisions based on what isright.’
I hum my agreement, because that’s how I do feel, weirdly. I feel calmer.
‘So, in that vein, I’m going to ask you: what would it feel like to prioritise Jamie over every single other thing? Not just your relationship with him for your own sake, but building him into a secure, Self-led adult for his sake?’
I shrug, feeling reckless and cavalier and everything else. My heart rate has slowed, but I’m filled with a sensation of vitality. Of possibility. I wave my hands in the air in a gesture of surrender. ‘Fuck knows. Sack in my job, tell my dad where he can shove Kingsley, pull Jamie out of school, and go on a boys’ trip somewhere amazing where all we do is bond and make incredible memories together for a decent amount of time.’
Through the screen, Philip’s smile is megawatt.
‘But I can’t, obviously.’ My shoulders slump, and I let my head hang, too. ‘I have a lot of responsibilities, and a major transaction to complete, and an ex-wife who categorically won’t let me steal her son away.’And a brand-new girlfriend I can’t fathom being away from,but I don’t say that.
‘I’m curious—what if those obstacles weren't as fixed as they seem? What would it look like to explore whether this is actually impossible, or just difficult?’
As a CEO, I appreciate his question. Treating assumptions as fact is such a common error, caused by blind spots and an unwillingness to question the premise, and such an act is often the precursor to defeatist thinking and a failure to act boldly.
I sit up a little straighter. ‘I mean, they’re not impossible. They’re just—messy.’ I turn over the issues in my mind. So many moving parts. ‘Our takeover of The Montague Group. The visibility—the market would go ballistic. The financial press would have a field day. The investors I convinced to back me would have my guts for garters.’ I trail off. What a mess I would make. It doesn’t even bear thinking about.
There’s a moment of silence.
‘I’m interested to know,’ he says slowly, ‘whereyousee your responsibilities. Different parts may be carrying different responsibilities, but if it’s possible to access some of that Self energy, I’d like to know whereyousee your primary responsibility.’
I let my eyes drift closed. The first time I did this in a session, it was excruciating. I felt stupid and vulnerable and I couldn’t stop worrying about what Philip must be thinking of me. But now it comes a little more naturally, and it helps me to shift away from the visual noise of his face and my twinkling Christmas tree and focus on what matters.
‘Jamie,’ I say flatly. ‘There’s nothing else. No one else.’ All there is is a role at the helm of a company I dislike, founded by a man I’ve found the courage to despise, and a woman in my life who has been the starting point for every single gift that this work has given me. She’s far too special to ever turn my back on, to ever risk losing… but she’s for me.
She may want me, but she doesn’t need me. Not like Jamie does. I strongly suspect she’s my happy ending, and I can’t think like that yet.
Not when I owe it to my son to give the rest of his life the absolute best shot it has of being happy and healthy and secure.
Philip is silent. When I open my eyes, he’s smiling. It’s a proud smile, almost fatherly. He presses his lips together and gives me a little nod.
Clarity.
That’s what he said he was hearing when I spoke about Jamie.
Thoughts are pouring into my head now, clear and true. It’s as though someone’s turned on a tap.
My parts have agendas. They have responsibilities, driven by fear and shame and every other negative emotion. They have strong feelings about the things they should be doing.
ButIonly have one agenda. One responsibility. One true purpose.
