I am excellent at running at life at 8000 miles an hour before eventually and inevitably tripping up, falling face down and then needing time out to recover. The second I get back up, I race off to repeat the process again. My recent recovery from a particularly challenging period resulted in the urgings of multiple friends all saying the same thing, ‘Jo, pace yourself, don’t rush, go easy’. This is because they all see more clearly than I do that I am not excellent at learning to slow down to a sustainable pace that doesn’t require me to recover by stopping or standing still, quite so often, or for quite so long. Friends who tell you what you don’t want to hear (when it’s true and comes with good intent) are a priceless gift. I hope you all know who you are. NB to self to tell you all more often so you do.
I put my fast paced, grab everything along the way approach, (see blog on blackberries), down to my huge and greedy appetite for life combined with the loss of all the wasted years of anesthetizing myself from the pain of my childhood. I have missed out on a lot in life and I don’t want to miss out on anymore. I want it all and I want it all now. At the latest. But I also realise this is a really rushed, rubbish and self-defeating approach, hence I am trying (and regularly failing) to do things a little differently. I can accept this flaw of mine so long as I remain committed to trying one more time than I fail.
To this end, I have treated myself to time out and away, to practice the art of the pause. I am enjoying the beautiful gift of time and space in a Shepherd’s Hut in Suffolk, surrounded by fields and trees and accompanied by the noises of nature. It is relaxing and liberating to be free of the never ending to-do-list that calls me repeatedly when I am at home. Here at this hut, I can breathe deeply, survey the beauty of my surroundings, watch the Master Artist at work with his paintbrush across the sky, especially outstanding in the early morning and late evening, listen to the birds and be still enough to feel utterly grateful for it all.
The word ‘pause’ is appearing more and more these days, perhaps becoming something of a buzz word as an attempt to re-balance all the crazy, fast paced, no-pause allowing approach to life so prevalent in our culture. There is a wonderful place on the outskirts of Cambridge by this name, spelt ‘Paus’. It offers a beautiful outdoor café serving homemade, healthy, colourful food, overlooking the fields as well as a selection of hot tubs, ice tubs, an ice bath and a sauna. Quite the selection and at times quite the challenge for a woman whose internal thermostat is shot, thanks to the havoc experienced during perimenopause. (I was most encouraged by a lady at Pilates this week who assured me that the body’s thermostat does recover the ability to regulate temperature. I will certainly be relieved when my internal fire stops roaring quite so regularly or ferociously). But that aside, Paus offers a stunning, natural space in which to stop, pause and satisfy the needs of body, mind, soul and spirit; the whole shebang. This is especially enjoyable when shared with a good friend, as I did, who’s own life is just as ridiculously busy albeit for different reasons, but who was therefore as ready, ripe and rewarded as I, by the whole ‘paus’ experience.
And the other day my fabulous hairdresser told me that nowadays you can get away to places called ‘Unplugged’. As the name suggests this is a place that prohibits being plugged in to technology, even locking away phones and laptops for the duration! I think this is a fantastic idea and much needed. But I can’t help feeling somewhat concerned that we seem to struggle so much to give ourselves permission to unplug, disconnect and step away from all the time thieves competing for our attention, whether phone/TV/social media et al. I for one, want to practice permitting myself to disconnect from all these more frequently to consistently give more time to re-connecting to all parts of myself, my mate and my surroundings.
And so, I am doing just that having taken time out to be still, savour the scenery and reawaken my senses as I sit on my balcony drinking it all in with my eyes, heart, mind, body and spirit. And I have to say, it is utterly delicious, deeply satisfying, refreshingly restorative and quite simply, all that the soul Doctor ordered.
Bliss with a capital BL.
PS there is a swing in the garden which I giggled away on as I swung higher and higher feeling free and full of fun … until I started to feel nauseas! Perhaps my stomach is too sensitive for such shenanigans these days!