'I sat at the table and I realised I hadn't laughed in years'

Franklin D Roosevelt once said: “there's nothing to fear but fear itself,†- and it's a line Liz Valloor can relate to.

Liz, now 66, spent a good chunk of her life bowed down by debilitating fear. She was fearful of what people thought of her; what they might say to her; how they might react to what she did or said. It was a crippling condition that blighted her life, prevented her from expressing herself fully.

She can recall the day, the month, the hour when she realised just how much fear was undermining her life - and how she had to make a change. It was like one of those epiphanies James Joyce wrote about; those moments of crystal-clear clarity.

“I sat at the table one day and I realised I hadn't laughed in years, it was 1994, October. I knew the joy had gone out of my life, and I asked myself why?â€

That stark realisation that she needed to change was like a thunderbolt out of a clear blue sky; powerful and unexpected. It was also the first step on what was at times a torturous, rocky, yet ultimately fulfilling journey of discovery.

It's a journey she has outlined in her book ‘Taking flight: The Caged Bird,' just published by Ballpoint Press, which will be launched on Saturday, 1st July  in the Grove Gardens in Fordstown.

This is a very significant month for Liz - and not just because she has her book coming out. She also officially retires as a teacher of underprivileged youngsters in a school in Loughlinstown, Dublin. It's another milestone in a life that has had its shares of ups and downs; of high points and crushing lows.

The choice of Fordstown as the launch location is not a random one. Liz was brought up in the hamlet found between Athboy and Kells, one of 10 children born to Emily and Joseph Dillon. 

Liz attended Girley National School then moved out of that relatively secure life to what for her was a much more daunting world. “I went to secondary school in Eureka, Kells and because I was such a shy, nervous person when I moved to Kells it was like being hit by a thunderbolt because I wasn't familiar with it, I wasn't familiar with anybody there, it was a tremendous shock to the system.â€

That sense of being overwhelmed stayed with her as she moved into twenties, then on into her thirties and early forties. She started her working career in the secretarial staff in Bird's factory in Dublin, then landed a job in a bank before going back to college and training as a teacher.

Before qualifying she also got married in her early twenties and had her first child and settled down in Dublin. It all made for a busy life but she was happy; or at least thought she was happy. In time she came to the conclusion that her discontent was affecting her children.

“I could see that my children (who were in October 1994 aged 16, 13, 10 and 7) were repeating family patterns, they were repeating my mistakes, I thought a certain way and I knew it limited me and it was limiting them. That fear of asking for money, that fear of self-promotion, that need for peace for peace sake. I saw that no matter what I did or what I said to them they were still living through the limitations of my beliefs. I was tryinig to make them happy but I realised you can't do that.â€

She also came to the conclusion that her marriage wasn't working and she and her husband were eventually to separate after 22 years together. “As regards my marriage, I really began to see how it wasn't working. I saw all these different things and I remember thinking there was no way I could sort it, I had reached a total roadblock.â€

From very early in her life Liz was “addicted to people's approval.†Even when she ran her own pre-school (which she did for 14 years) there was a reluctance to assert herself; even when right was on her side.

“There would be people who owed me money and I would be afraid to say ‘you owe me money' yet they would rock up everyday in their BMW or Mercedes and pick up their child. I needed to know it's all right to ask. I needed to know it's all right to stand up to somebody but it's not what you say, it's how you say it, firm but without aggression.â€

A crucial discovery on her road to redemption was the discovery of Indian spritual teacher and writer Anthony de Mello's self-help book ‘Awareness.' It carried a central message that helped to transform Liz Valloor's life. “The essence of Awareness is that you are fully responsible for your happiness and if you can understand that and stop blaming other people for your unhappiness you will be a happier person,†she says. 

“There are only two huge emotions - fear and love and the more you root out fear the more room you will have for love.â€
Liz came to accept that no matter how much she did for her children - or anybody else - she could never make them happy. She had first to be responsible for her own contentment and work from there - and that's what she did.

She talks about how, when she sought to do everything for her children, they lacked motivation and direction. When she worked on making herself happy, things changed. “I observed myself in relation to other people and I rooted out exactly where my problem was and the funny thing is, and I'll always says this, it was quite extraordinary, as I began to find a voice my kids changed as well.â€Â 

A big part of finding her own contentment was learning to say no and not feeling pressurised to do something she was reluctant to do. “I began to work on being able to say ‘no' on say the lesser things that weren't so important and then, gradually, move on to the bigger things.â€

Another of the big event in Liz's life occurred in 2008 when she married Francis Valloor from India. He had spent 37 years as a Jesuit and became very much involved in spreading the kind of philosophy espoused by Anthony de Mello. Liz met Francis at a De Mello workshop and the relationship blossomed.

It was another happy chapter in the life of woman who has found fulfillment after a long journey of self discovery.