Category: Emotional Health

Although the Christmas season has not yet begun, most people are incredibly busy. I am no exception.

What is going on?

As a self-confessed over-do-er and under-be-er, I know from bitter experience that over busyness is a costly and counter productive way to approach life. I also see this as one of the greatest current threats to our collective health. Did we fail to incorporate the lessons of Covid?

Last weekend a quote from my pastor spoke straight to the heart of this matter.

‘Sometimes we need to slow down enough for our soul to catch up with our body’.

Wow.

I would take this a step further by adding,

‘Sometimes we need to still the mind enough for the body to rest, recover and recognise what it needs for the soul to catch up.’

I am painfully aware that my own mind is prone to racing around all over the shop at a ridiculous speed, dragging my poor knackered body behind it. When I ignore the pain and protests of my body for any prolonged period, I pay the price with my psychological and physical health. 

The body, mind, heart and soul are not made for non-stop doing with non-start being.

The slogan of the old Mars advert comes to mind:

‘Work, rest and play.’

When the balance and interplay of these are out of whack, malfunctioning occurs.

And so, before I get lost in all the activity surrounding the wonder, magic and Jesus-ness of December (Nb – Jesus is not just for Christmas), I am giving my body permission to take time out from doing. Then, instead of storing this knowledge in some already overstuffed cupboard of my mind, I will be still enough to reflect on what steps I need to take and what steps I do not need to take, to re-dress the balance.

Our individual and collective physical and psychological health depend upon our willingness to do this and keep doing this, by taking time out from doing everything else.

To know, but not act upon this knowing, could cost us more than any budget blowing Christmas ever could.

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!

No matter how many times I see the shift in the seasons they never fail to inspire me with their beauty or encourage me with their wisdom. I prefer the longer days of spring to the shorter days of winter, but every season offers its own reward. As we leave the longer days of summer behind, the shorter days of Autumn see the trees beginning to shed their leaves ready for their season of rest and renewal. 

It is neither new nor original but remains true that the trees remind us that to enter a new season we must first relinquish our grip on the old. Whenever I feel afraid to let go of the old and familiar, nature reminds me that letting go, resting and trusting in what is to come is a pre-requisite for the new and unknown. The world around me displays this natural order of life whether I am watching the trees shed their leaves, to allow a winter of regeneration or noticing my house plants calling me to remove their old leaves so they can focus their resources on making new ones. 

Even my wardrobe recently reminded me that I needed to move my lighter clothes to make space for the warmer ones. Wherever I look, I see the need to move or let go of one thing to make a space for a new thing. This is as true for us humans as it is for nature. To remain alive is to grow, change, navigate endings, beginnings and the transitions between them, by continuing to say ‘no’ to one thing to say ‘yes’ to another.

When it comes to the seasons of the soul, some are definitely more enjoyable than others but all still have their place, time and purpose. Our ability to engage with these seasonal shifts determines the degree to which we grow, heal and retain our vitality.

Following a year of injury and illness, leading to insight and inspiration (eventually), I am now ready to write again.

Last week I was thrilled to have my first proper run in almost three months. I had been forced to stop running by a rather unfortunate incident with the lawnmower. I have since recovered and the lawnmower has not.

On this run I spotted some blackberries offering too good an opportunity to pass by. I like to pick them, fling them in the freezer for safe keeping, then dip into this stock throughout the Winter to make crumble and the likes. Yum.

While I was relieving the bushes of the biggest, best and juiciest of berries, I was careful to avoid the thorns, wasps, nettles and spiders. As I continued to search with my eyes and grab with my hands, I had the same thought I always have whenever I pick blackberries. Instead of simply focusing on the berry at hand, my eyes were constantly scouring the surrounding branches convinced that there would be a bigger, better-looking berry just over there to the left or the right or too far up, or deep in, for me to reach.

As always, this led me to reflect on the parallels with my approach to life where I am just as greedy for everything I love as I am for the biggest and best berries. However, when I become distracted by exciting looking things to my left or to my right, I cease to fully focus on what I am doing. It is only when I say ‘no’ to all the ongoing temptations that I can continue to say the biggest, fattest ‘yes’ to staying on task enough to begin to bear fruit. I also become more adept at spotting and avoiding life’s equivalent of wasps, nettles and the like!

As a wise friend recently remarked, ‘Jo, sometimes you even have to say ‘no’ to things that you love doing’.

I will now attempt to go forth, stay focused and become more fruitful.

As someone who has always enjoyed a voracious appetite for reading, I am regularly frustrated by my seeming inability to make time to indulge.

However, I was fortunate enough to enjoy time away in a different space recently.  Said space was in Sicily where I was distraction free, warm, peaceful and by a swimming pool. Aside from some online work, I had no one to see and nowhere I had to go.  Bliss.  I was reminded that I haven’t experienced such freedom from a relentless schedule since the lockdown.  How quickly I have allowed a ridiculously fast paced life to take hold.

Anyway, whilst away I found myself able to inhale not just one but two books.  I can’t remember the last year in which I read two books!!  I dip into books here and there but to actually read one from cover to cover is a rarity I had not found the mental energy or capacity to enjoy.

This was a wonderful experiential reminder of the absolute joy of reading.  As one who loves to write myself, I can’t get enough of reading what others have to say.

If I’m lucky, I typically get through a newspaper once a week but my time in Sicily reminded me how much I love to read the thoughts, opinions, experiences, perspective and knowledge of others expressed through books.  It expands me.

One of said books was written by a forensic pathologist called Dr Richard Shepherd about his life experience predominantly around his work with death.  My friend enquired with surprise as to what on earth I was reading something so heavy for!!!  I assured her that it was full of humanity, integrity, wisdom and compassion, all of which are amongst my favourite things!  It was utterly fascinating, and I highly recommend it.  Whether we deny or acknowledge the reality of death, it exists all around us and I whole heartedly believe that our capacity to acknowledge this reality can inform and inspire how we engage with whatever life we are given.

The other book was called Adult Children of Emotionally Immature Parents.  This is an absolute must read for anyone with a parent/s who imagines they own their children, are entitled to demand what they want when they want it, disrespect all boundaries and are master manipulators when it comes to engendering guilt designed to keep you hooked to their needs all whilst dismissing, denying and belittling yours. 

This is written in highly human terms for such parents are unfortunately prevalent and my work is such that I come in to contact with many who are trying to heal from them. 

However, one of the things I love about this book is that it does not pathologize, label or demonise such a parent. Whilst it is unrealistic to imagine that human parents do not have any limitations, any more than their human adult offspring, this book is written in a deeply respectful way which recognises that such behaviour is borne out of unresolved suffering. 

The basic difference between those who progress towards emotional maturity and those do not, whether adult parents or adult children, is the willingness to own and examine one’s own behaviour in order to learn and grow, as opposed to remaining stuck in a position of blaming others.

As I say, this book is an absolute must read for anyone wishing to release themselves from the exhausting and damaging cycle of longing for emotionally immature parents to become capable of something they cannot.

Anyway, I can hardly believe it’s been almost two weeks since I returned from this trip.

However, having experienced the joy of reading afresh whilst away, I have since found myself naturally swapping the TV for reading.  My appetite for the written word has returned with a vengeance and my commitment to satisfying rather than suppressing it, has been renewed.

The other night I had the pleasure of tea and cake in the garden, with a good neighbour. 

Gotta love the simple pleasures.

Anyway, said neighbour arrived bearing an early gift for my birthday.

I removed the wrapping to reveal the beautiful gift inside.

As I reflected upon the giving and receiving of gifts, it struck me that if I give someone a gift, I don’t stop them just before they open it to go through a checklist of their behaviour to determine whether I consider them worthy to receive it.  Neither do I present them with a to do list that they must first complete.  Which is not to say that I don’t ask friends to assist me with certain job lists but that’s a whole other story!

There is joy in seeking out or creating gifts for others, as well as in receiving them.  And we don’t typically check whether we think someone ‘deserves’ it beforehand.  (Unless you’re a parent and Christmas is approaching!).  Under usual circumstances, we make a choice to give or to receive as an act of free will that usually provides enjoyment for both party’s. 

Win, win right?

And yet, I am equally struck by all the deeply embedded ideas us humans can hold inside of us that interfere with our ability to receive of the ultimate gift of all – God Almighty.

So many of us humans are prone to discrediting ourselves from the gift of God.  We imagine that we are not this enough or too that or haven’t done this or did do that and so the list goes on.

Some simply do not believe in God, except perhaps when looking for someone to blame for all the horror and injustice in the world.

The fact remains that God chose to send Jesus to provide the link that allows us to approach and receive the gift of God, anytime, anyplace.  It was an act of free will that certainly cost the giver but was given regardless and willingly at that.

The giving of the gift is not based upon anything to do with us – it’s NOT about us!  It is freely given!

What is about us, is whether we choose to receive it.

Furthermore, like many gifts, they can be shared with others.

God is no exception.

I am aware of a collective difficulty around saying no.

The ability to use the word ‘no’ appropriately and confidently is vital to our mental and emotional health.

‘No’ is a boundary, whose purpose is to protect what lays beyond; the self.

To maintain responsibility for all parts of our health we must recognise and manage our daily capacity for functioning. 

We all have strengths, weaknesses, time, talents, responsibilities, challenges, blessings, feelings, thoughts, needs and limitations.

In recognising the legitimacy of these, we can take better care of ourselves when balancing the give and take of daily living.  This subsequently enables us to care for others from a healthier place.

Typically our culture congratulates people ‘who always put others first’.  We are less likely to acknowledge that such people may be secretly dying of the resentment that accompanies prolonged unmet needs.

To clarify, I am not suggesting the opposite position of always putting self first.

It is not always other or always self but a balance of sometimes prioritising self and sometimes other.

In my work as a Psychotherapist I regularly hear how difficult many people find it to say ‘no’, whether to the boss with unreasonable expectations or within personal relationships.

To preserve mental and emotional health which impact physical health, we must recognise our limitations and learn when to put limits on others demands by saying ‘no’.

When we respect the legitimacy of our own needs and limitations, we can say no to others before reaching crisis point.  We do not need to explain, justify or enter in to the type of negotiations that invite the other to talk us out of our no.

No is no.

The more solid and honest our ‘no’, the more heartfelt our ‘yes’ can become.