Category: Emotional Health

Yesterday while scrolling on Facebook I read something that activated my bullshit detector. It was something about what’s important in life. Most of which I agreed with. However, one line jumped out at me. It turned me right off and I stopped reading immediately. It read something like,

• ‘most people don’t have jobs they love, they have jobs they sometimes like, that pay the bills’.

At first glance most would probably agree. I call bullshit. Quite often untruths parade about the place with a kernel of truth that gets accepted as the whole truth. Nothing in this life is all true or all untrue but a mix of both. What we refer to as truth is rarely the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. You’ve only got to look at our justice system to see theatrics in action around the concept of the whole truth. (and of course some good cases of justice, somewhere I hope). What things look like often gets accepted as truth if it’s presented in a convincing enough manner. Or like the quote above, if enough people accept it.

Anyway, back to this idea about work. Let me be quite clear – I love my work whether writing or counselling, with all my heart, mind and body (we really can’t separate these).

On the counselling front, it is a massive privilege to hold space for people with the courage and commitment to grow despite the growing pains involved. To watch people benefit from the fruits of their labours makes my heart skip for joy. I have on occasion even been known to jump up and do a jig in response to a client’s growth. I did ask their permission first as I didn’t want to totally weird them out! But I do get very excited about this work which can at times even incorporate play.

It would be remiss of me not to add that the work is also tiring which translates into lots of breaks and time out in nature.  As for admin and accounts, what a yawn. When it comes to tech, don’t get me started. And, counselling others can be extremely difficult when I am going through a difficult phase myself. Hence my ongoing commitment to my own counselling when required. (which is quite a lot!). But, all things considered, I love this work.

As for the writing, this has always been my play but can also be work. I’ve been working on my first book for forty-eight years so far! This definitely feels like work. When I don’t write enough to balance my counselling work, I become a much grumpier version of myself. And so I try to permit myself the play of writing as much as time and energy allows. For everyone’s benefit.

Therefore, this notion that we cannot do work that we love does not fit my lived experience. I need to point out that this job that I love so much didn’t fall out of the sky into my lap. I spent a decade training, volunteering, sacrificing holidays and cars and moving house or rather room/bedsit, eight times. During which I worked in a secondary school and I cleaned people’s houses. Financially I pretty much lived off fresh air and prayer. I can subsequently testify that God did provide while I was developing the desires He put on my heart.

Suffice to say this was not an easy decade in any way, yet I’d do the same again. That’s before I factor in the family stuff – surviving this remains my biggest achievement to date.

Anything worth having in life requires work to make it a reality. No one gets to avoid that. Except maybe the super privileged. However, the school of hard knocks teaches lessons in character and attitude that entitlement can’t.

So after reading what I read yesterday, I felt very sad that the majority seem to accept this nonsense about work being merely a means to an end. There are times when this is true (see above) but as a lifelong philosophy? It makes me conclude, rightly or wrongly that if people accept this as truth, this is what they will settle for. I’m not imagining that everyone has huge passions in life. But all have a unique set of strengths and weaknesses as well as benefits and challenges. I believe that life and work is about bringing our all to the table to do the best we can with what we’ve got. I’ve come to believe that when my heart is no longer in something whether a relationship/job/church/whatever, it’s time to get the rest of me out.

And wherever I go in life, those individuals that put their heart into their work stand out in the very best way. Certainly they are in contrast to those whom everything is too much for them to do. And I do say this as someone who was once told by a colleague my epitaph would read, ‘Jo cba’d Loach’. This was fair and true while stuck in corporate captivity. We all have jobs that bring out the worst in us (I felt like a caged animal) and those that bring out the best, as well as all in between. It is our responsibility to choose which we will aspire to, settle for, or take steps towards.

It’s important to acknowledge it’s not always easy to seek the path of fulfilment. And we all have bills to pay. But, I honestly believe that if we seek for what our hearts desire where this brings enjoyment to us and others, there is always a way.

We don’t have to settle for the lie that work cannot be enjoyable, fulfilling or enough to pay the bills. This is of course easier for those like me who are happy to live out of charity shops and Lidl’s!! The chains and trappings of success are not for me; not at the cost of my time, energy or lifestyle.

Work can be a source of enjoyment and fulfilment as well as a few unavoidable stress evoking bits, for us all.

Today I tried a Thai massage. Or should that read Thai torture session?! I thought I would like it given my positive experiences many moons ago while travelling in Thailand. What I noticed was some striking cultural differences between delivery of this as opposed to a massage from an English person. For example, the English enquire as to what kind of pressure we want and ask us to say if the pressure needs adjusting (knowing we’re often far too polite to do so leading to regular check ins). Upon completion we may also be asked how it was for us.

On this Thai front, things were done differently by the one delivering it. The pressure was such that at times a few involuntary groans/whimpers burst out of my mouth. This despite an ability to bite down the words or sounds that could make matters worse, being learned at a young age. But even this entrenched grinding/clenching manoeuvre was overridden by the extraordinary level of pain experienced!

Now, I’m the first to admit I am very wimp-esque when it comes to physical pain. My feet have bled in response to a Thai pedicure before – I see a theme, is this a Thai thing? But this did evoke next level pain which took me way back to similar endurance type massages in Singapore and China. I wondered back then if I was being tested to see at what point I would break (or part of my body would) by asking them to stop. No need to wonder this time as the response to my spontaneous groans and gasps (not of enjoyment) was, ‘breathe’. It was bad but I wasn’t about to stop breathing having survived way worse! It wasn’t a response of recognition followed by any appropriate adjustment of pressure though.

I could of course have spoken up and insisted in a gentler handling of my sensitive self. But as there were also moments which were nearing enjoyable, I persevered. One always feels like an endurance of such discomfort must be doing some good. I’m not sure if the ‘no pain, no gain’ motto is simply a masochistic lie we’ve been sold or how much truth is in it, if not. I guess like all things we are each different and responsible for what does or does not work for us.

Throughout I was aware that any fleeting relief upon moving away from one part of my body was quickly replaced by pain from another. Yet I also felt an unusual but good feeling in the parts of my body that had been battered/massaged. I was torn between thinking it was making me feel good and at times being more painful than I wanted to endure. Especially when paying for the privilege.

Towards what I hoped was the end, I noticed myself start some plea-bargaining style prayers to God. You know the type, ‘Please God, if you make it stop, I’ll be a nicer Christian’ type stuff. But I quickly realised I wasn’t even fooling myself let alone Him! And besides He has given us free will to own our choices and I chose to have the massage and I kept choosing to let it continue. I was thrilled/relieved/grateful when it finished though. On my way back through reception, I grabbed a sweet.

“I think I deserve that for surviving the experience”, I commented to the person sat there. They were too English/reserved/disinterested to reply.

And as I wasn’t asked how my experience was, I couldn’t release the words desperate to escape my mouth,

“I am grateful I got out alive”.

All this makes me think of my clients. Quite often the process of therapy feels painful and unpleasant yet yields an improved experience thereafter! Perhaps whether physical or psychological we all have different tolerance levels. Important to check in with the individual in question and hope that they will be honest with themselves and the one asking. This whether the asker or askee.

Anyway, I didn’t mean to but I took myself for coffee and cake to recover from the experience. And I thought this probably defeated the object of self-care but then remembered my moderation rule. It was only one cake after all. (so far today).

My partners response to my experience was,

“ … deep tissue massage is no joke, JoJo”.

Well, there was no laughing involved and there was almost some crying. All of which means I won’t be subjecting myself to round two.  Some massages are relaxing and soothing but leave me feeling like I’m still tense inside. Others leave me feeling way better once they’re over than while they’re happening. And some hit the spot which releases tension without annihilating me in the process. Hurry up and come back regular massage lady, is what I have concluded.

Hopefully I won’t awake covered in black and blue bruises tomorrow! And no, I am not being dramatic!

As a self-confessed fair-weather walker, I’ve cancelled today’s walk, in favour of all things indoors. As my regular massage lady is currently out of massaging-action, I’ll be sampling a local Thai massage. I’ll report back but I’m hoping for an enjoyable experience.  

This relentless rain has redirected my focus to inside matters; inside me or inside elsewhere. There are so many things I don’t want to be doing when the sun is shining so I’m keen to utilise the day. Part of this involves an article I read recently about the latest research on aiming to eat 30 different plant-based foods per week. There has been so much recent research surrounding gut bacteria and the impact on the mind/body. As a perimenopausal women, my moods have often been at the mercy of my fluctuating hormones. (Thank God for HRT to settle this). This can be further aggravated by drops in blood sugars or the inhalation of high sugar, highly processed, low nutritional content foods. The old adage,’ we are what we eat’ is true. Not just that if we overeat rubbish and under move, we will become larger in body. But also, the quality or lack thereof of food going into our guts, can also have a detrimental effect on mood. I’ve always been prone to becoming ‘hangry’ if I go too long without eating. My moods can also suffer if I don’t put enough quality grub in my body. As the owner of a very sensitive system, I must be very careful about what I put in it to maintain optimum health.

Fortunately, as a lover of food/baking/new recipe creating, I am naturally fascinated by food. Not only am I interested in the impact on physical health but also on mental and emotional health. I’m naturally drawn to the Mediterranean diet in that I love fresh fruit and veg, poultry, fish, nuts and seeds. The article I read recently flagged up thirty food groups required to cultivate a healthy gut. Not just in size but the makeup of bacteria. I can’t pretend to understand the science of this as I don’t appear to have a science chip in my brain. At GCSE I only took biology which I got an F for! (the other 9 were C and above in case you’re wondering!). However, what I do understand about gut bacteria/grub partnership is similar to what I understand about cars ie primarily what colour they are. With grub, it is apparently good to aim for as many different colours in your diet as possible.  Whereas I’ve learned too late that white is not a forgiving colour for a car.

At first glance this goal of thirty foods may seem intimidating. However, I was encouraged to discover that even coffee, that great firer up of my system of a morning, counts as one of these. Result. Ditto green or black tea which I’ve broken through my resistance to upon hearing the lack of caffeine equates to fewer trips to the loo. Win, win right? As for the rest of these thirty foods, it’s basically fresh is best. And variety really is the spice of life as herbs and spices count too.

As with everything else in life there is no point in finding this interesting if I don’t put it into practice. I have discovered that I can achieve this with a bit of creativity and a lot of planning, organising, and preparing. I know myself well enough to know I’m unlikely to cook anything healthy after work. Instead, I’d grab rubbish, therefore I am a committed batch baker of soups, salads, curries, or chillies. And cake, because I still believe in all things in moderation. (I don’t always practice the moderation part in this respect)

This aiming to achieve thirty foods malarkey can be do-able. Here is an example of my start to today:

• 2 small cups of freshly ground filter coffee – after a glass of water to wash down the vits and mins – apparently we need daily vit d supplements even on those days when the sun does shine            1
• Bowl of frozen mixed berries (defrosted!), full fat Greek yoghurt, sprinkling of flaxseed, sunflower and pumpkin seeds and oats                          4

That’s 5 before adding a mid-morning snack of almonds to make it six!

Playing around with how to get these different foods into the weekly scoff fests can be fun. And a constructive use of wet days like today. I can focus on finding, planning, and prepping interesting new recipes as a way of looking after my body/mind and the connection between them.

We really are what we eat.

And if we eat bland, boring, colourless, highly processed rubbish, our body’s and minds will pay the price in size, energy and, or moods.

Last Saturday I cycled to the local shop which I entered still wearing my cycling helmet (not just this).

“Aah you’re doing things that make you alive”, remarked the assistant.

“What do you mean?”, I asked.

“When you do what you are passionate about, like cycling, it makes you alive”, he replied.

Quite right, I thought as I left and jumped back on my bike. Cycling through picturesque places with the breeze whistling past me, the sun sometimes shining on me and the scenery wowing me, makes me feel alive, happy and free. For me, there are so many activities that I find enlivening and enjoyable. My personal challenge remains in limiting such activities to a level that enriches rather than exhausts my body. There is always a line and I regularly cross it!

In this life we can easily become so consumed by work that we forget to balance this by prioritising play too. That which makes us feel happy and alive helps to carry us through the menial and the mundane.

On Friday night when my partner and I discussed the week he suddenly announced that his learning take-away was,

“I need to spend more time doing things that make me happy”.

This was music to my ears as the observer more able to see him overdoing things than to see this in myself.

Adulting can cause us to lose sight of the role of play and rest in sustaining a sense of aliveness. We must actively address this imbalance or pay the price. For overdoing anything or under doing rest and play can have a draining, deadening, stress enhancing effect. And life is definitely too precious to settle for some half-arsed stress filled substitute.

I was reminded of this again today when I attended a funeral of a wonderful woman. Her life and faith touched many hearts including my own. And as I reflected on her life through the beautiful songs, psalms and stories of the service, I laughed and I cried. The death of a fellow lover of Jesus brings a powerful collision of emotion, both sadness and joy. To lose one we love brings sorrow but to know where they are going is a cause for celebration (and cake obvs). Even more poignant when it brings an end to any form of prolonged pain on earth.

Life is a full bag mixed with joy and sorrow, happy and sad, exciting and boring, from the moment we are born until the moment we die. While culture sometimes encourages us to stuff down our sorrow or focus so hard on work that we forget the joy of play, these emotions are a package deal. By allowing ourselves to honour them all; sadness, joy and all in between, we retain our aliveness. To block out one is to lose both along with our vitality. Life is too precious to settle for a death-in-life experience.

Whether we are grieving, celebrating, laughing, crying, working or playing, our corresponding emotions show us we are still ALIVE.

At the start of my week off, I was asked by a fellow church member what my plan for my break was.

‘To have as few plans as possible’, I replied.

‘I think that’s really under-rated’, came his response.

As humans, we have a propensity towards filling space. The emptiness or void like qualities of space can see us avoiding them by mindlessly filling them. In the physical realm this ranges from filling storage cupboards to sheds, lofts, wardrobes and anywhere else. In the psychological realm, we may equally mindlessly fill time and air space. This is usually to avoid being still and silent in case we notice or feel something we don’t want to.

During this year of learning to rest better, I am practising being stiller and more silent. I do this by not asking my mind or body to do anything much. It goes entirely against the grain of my history but I am determined to do things differently.

To this end, this morning, I forced myself to sleep in until 8.30am. Not extravagantly late I realise but when I’m in a creative phase, my mind starts buzzing the moment I wake up. I am learning to quieten it back down to give my body the rest it needs. Following this lay in, I took my coffee out to the garden. Here I could take in the sun and birdsong along with my Monty cat.

How I love the great outdoors; it was my safe space as a child where our garden conveniently led to a large green field. Here and now, nature remains my place of wonder and comfort. As I sat drinking in the surrounds as well as the coffee, a peacock butterfly fluttered by, landing right by my feet. It stayed a moment allowing me to admire its colourings and patterns before it flew away.

I moved to my now parasol covered table and chairs to continue watching the wildlife. It wasn’t long before I spotted the robin who has recently taking up residence here. He dives down from his position on the fence to whatever edible treats await it under my tree. Most days he pops by for a visit. If it is a him.

The other day a beautiful delicate blue tit landed on the fence nearest my conservatory where it caught my attention as it peered in the window. These are the moments I relish most when I remember the importance of sitting in the space of rest. I notice the beauty and wonder of my surroundings as well as all that wishes to present itself from within; beautiful or otherwise.

While the world will always be full of strife and suffering, there will equally always be moments of magic awaiting us when we become still enough to notice them.

This rest malarkey is way under-rated and under-practised, at least by me! But my commitment to re-dressing the balance is becoming stronger all the time.

Yay for holidays.

Rest is actively engaging in being inactive.

R is for resisting the mind and body’s desire to be active.
E is for energy saving and restoring by actively choosing
inactivity in mind and body to allow essential internal repair
work to be conducted
S is for space to practice being still in mind and body;
noticing the desire for activity and letting it go
T is for time to master the art of ‘being’ over ‘doing’ to
restore balance, unity and harmony within

Typically, we tend to be prone to either overdoing or underdoing. Those of us prone to
overdoing can feel as if we are being lazy when we are simply allowing ourselves to
overdo, less. Those prone to underdoing appear to have mastered the art of this
without any such concerns.

While those of us in middle age and beyond tend to fall in to the first category with the
younger generations tending to fall into the other category, this is not definitively so
either way! There are I believe, as many under-do-ers in the older generations as there
are over-do-ers in the younger ones. Wherever we find ourselves, cultural changes
between generations tend to come about by swinging from one extreme to the other
before settling into some healthier midway point.

Only we can really know what we need to do, or not do, to re-dress our own imbalance.

That’s all for now because rest is calling me, you and us …