Massage or non-sexual masochism?

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!

Rainy days invite indoor play

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.

What makes you feel alive?

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.

Respite

Last week I enjoyed a hattrick of spontaneous, plan free days. My break from work enabled some respite from running around like a knackered-arsed-fly. It was delicious. Not dragging myself through the never-ending to-do list of adulting but just being.

I was most grateful that the sun shone all week which assisted me with my quest for swopping doing for being. Somehow, I find it easier to stop and be when I can do so from the comfort of my outdoor lounge. It was the first time I was able to dust down the garden furniture ready to use. I probably should have cleaned it properly, but I figured that 1) I was practising staying unchained from the to-do-list and 2) the inevitable rain would hopefully do it for me. Given that I am way too old/menopausal to sit in the sun or want to chase the orange, leathery look, I also wrestled with the parasol. And even won (eventually).

I used the week to practise listening to my body and letting it do what it needed. Generally, after being still for a while, a spontaneous urge to move, then arose. Whether to walk, cycle or run, it was a joy to do this naturally rather than cramming it in, in between everything else.

Respite is essential and doesn’t have to be costly. But it certainly will be if we don’t make it a priority. This is equally true within our working days where breaks away from the desk/workplace are vital. We all need daily respite breaks from whatever responsibilities we have, as well as longer breaks throughout the year.

The only downside to my week of respite was realising I could have done with two! To that end, I have now planned in the next two breaks. If I don’t plan them, they don’t happen.

When I returned to work yesterday, I found myself flat out playing the catch-up game. I don’t find this anywhere near as much fun as the time out/respite game. But worth it, nonetheless. By 8pm last night, I realised I had fallen into that annoying trap awaiting us busy people. The one where the never ending to-do-list can squash self-care/exercise out. I definitely hadn’t managed to get outside or move enough. As the day wasn’t over, I fought the pull of the sofa and went for a walk across the fields instead. The sun kindly rewarded me with a show on its way down. Not as good as the Northern Lights but no matter how hard I tried to stay up for them, the need for sleep was stronger. Gutted.  

When our jobs are sedentary, we need to move by standing up and stepping away from the workstation. And if we manage no other form of self-care or exercise within a busy day, at least try a walk. It doesn’t matter whether you’re a lark or an owl, walking is great for the mind and body at any time of the day. Even better where there is scenery to feast the eyes upon. And it’s also my very favourite thing; FREE! As well as giving time out/away/respite from everything else. By getting into our body’s for something as simple as a walk, we can give ourselves a brain break.

My plan to limit my plans

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.

This rest malarkey

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 …

Here and now; this moment matters most

Last week I took advantage of the rare sunshine by walking through beautiful green fields. I enjoyed the warmth of the sun with the greenery filled feast for my eyes. When a dog walker approached from the opposite direction, he gestured at the sky with his hands.

‘Isn’t it beautiful’, I offered.

‘It wont last’, came his reply.

Nothing in life does last, including us.

My initial reaction was feeling like someone had just peed on my bonfire. However, this was instantly replaced with ‘but it’s exactly right/totally true’. Nothing in life does last, including us. Everything comes and everything goes. It is all transient. We are transient as are our lives and all our experiences.

All we ever have is this moment right here, right now. We may be willing the moment away, we may be longing for days of old, having the time of our lives, or anywhere in between. 

Nothing lasts.

This is it; here and now.

All we get to choose is how we engage with this moment.

Good and bad exist along with everything in between.

We may be so consumed or lost in our own heads that we fail to even notice the beauty and wonder of our surroundings. Or we may fixate on feelings of foreboding that can accompany endlessly scrolling our screens. There are always true horrors, injustices, and wars in the world. Good and bad exist along with everything in between.

THIS moment really is the only one we ever have

We may also like the idea that the past has gone and we don’t need to revisit it. This despite it taking from the now as well as the future when we fail to work through it. Similarly, a refusal to plan the steps needed or work required to achieve future goals will ensure the ‘fail to plan, plan to fail’ reality. But, if we live too much in the past or too far in the future, we miss what is happening here and now. When we remember that THIS moment really is the only one we ever have, we can make a more conscious choice how to respond to ourselves, others and the world around.

Mind aside; body matters

As a middle-aged woman, my body has spent the past few years reminding me in various unpleasant, debilitating, ‘will you just stop, rest and recover’ ways, that I have allowed my mind to overrule my body’s needs for way too long. My body is no longer taking ‘no’ for an answer. I don’t have the energy levels I did and I can no longer constantly ignore my body without consequences. If only I had learned this before middle age, my body may not have had to take me to task so forcefully.

When I first felt the effects of entering middle age, I was totally pro all my changing tastes. Whether it was favouring early nights in, blankets, flasks, walking, National Trust places, all things David Attenborough, Tupperware, Pilates, big pants; think Bridget Jones but bigger (tmi?), gardening and even watching the wildlife in the garden, I embraced it all. Isn’t middle age fun I thought. (I’m not saying those under middle age can’t enjoy all the above just that I was a slow starter on all fronts).

However, when my body started showing signs of not being so bounce-back-without-effect-able, I was less than enthused. I started to recognise that a late night (even without alcohol; nearly 20 years sober and never missed it) could leave me feeling like shite the next day. And that I started making those groans that I always associated with ‘old people’ every time I stand up or walk downstairs etc. Then when the hormones started playing up more than most internet providers, while I still needed to function, I started to have a serious sense of humour failure. And that whole falling asleep while watching TV in the evenings? I thought that was strictly something that only happened to grandparents. Then I realised I’m old enough to be one even if I didn’t get my shit together in time to have kids.

Anyway, all that aside, what I am now learning is my body will not go on forever. My ailments and signs of wear/tear/abuse are no longer ignorable and only going in one direction. All of which means I need to start caring for and maintaining it way better than I have. Sure, I love nutritious food (and cake and crisps) and I genuinely love exercise but this rest malarkey and slowing down are proving tricksy to master without learning the hard way.

The upside of all this middle-aging is that I am starting to ease up on myself. The default still drags me back to ‘overdoing’ but when I do remember and allow myself to stop, rest and be, I really enjoy it and wonder why I didn’t do it earlier!

So, to this end, as I seek to support my body with all manner of ‘looking after the body’ treats, I will share these on this weekly blog. I’m also looking to introduce some of the wonderful local people who offer these.

If you are interested in learning how to listen to and look after your body better, please check in each week to see what I am flagging up. If you offer some of these services and would like to write a little blurb in one of my posts, please get in contact and let me know at jo.loach@gmail.com.

Here’s a sneak pre-view of some of the stuff I’ll be speaking about here:

  • Massage; deep tissue/aromatherapy
  • Pilates / Yoga
  • Breathwork
  • Sound baths
  • 5 Rhythms/Open movement
  • Kinesiology
  • Reflexology

For anyone thinking that this all sounds expensive, as a non-smoking, non-drinker, this is what I invest that cash in. But, I’ll also be talking about some of the many free activities we can engage with to sooth, slow down and calm our often-knackered body’s and shut off our usually-overactive minds.

Arlesey has many beautiful fields, water spots and the like that are great for soothing the senses and soul.

Until next time, look after yourself; mind AND body  … it is a privilege to age and not for the humourless.

Time for the body

Last week some deep bodily trauma was prodded and poked as it made its way up and out of me. This process culminated in a deepening of my faith which in turn led to a poem, which will be in my book. In recognition of this intensely emotional process, this week I am treating my body to some serious pampering.

Those who have endured the sort of childhood experiences that require a cutting off from the body, may know that it is a lifelong practice to learn to be in, feel safe and stay connected to the body.

Our culture also constantly reinforces the mind/body split by predominantly privileging thinking over feeling or embodying. The phrase, ‘mind over matter’, springs to mind (no pun intended).  I am not suggesting that we abandon the minds we’ve been given but that the mind and body are supposed to be in partnership. Along with all the other parts of us, these make up the entirety of the team. When the mind overrides the warnings and wisdom of the body as the default approach, it is only a matter of time before malfunctioning occurs. When one part is not operating as intended, it will inevitably have an impact on the rest.

Having spent the past few years resisting and resenting the carnage and chaos that accompanied my fluctuating hormones, I am now slowly learning to work with my body.  This means regularly asking my mind to step aside, be still and quiet and allow my body to reveal what it needs. The most regularly ignored protest of my body is still, ‘let me REST’. When you learn to disconnect from your body early on, you remain vulnerable to not recognising when overriding it. This ability was essential for surviving back then but it is limiting and potentially harmful to continue now. Middle ageing has certainly given me a few slaps around the chops in this regard to force some essential changes.

As my body threw up more of the deep bodily held trauma last week, my respect for all it has endured and held for me, continued to grow in line with my recognition of this. So, as I ease towards a much-needed week off, I am loving giving my body lots of attention and care this week.

To this end, I have just returned from the luxury of a two-hour massage. I’m talking next level yumminess; warm room, comfy bed, soothing sounds, almost edible smelling oils and the healing power of touch. I overcame my dislike of being touched many moons ago while spending two months in Thailand in basic rooms minus air con. I discovered that I disliked being unable to sleep more than I disliked the touch involved in massage. And I’ve developed a genuine love for safe, healing touch ever since.

The only discomfort in the entire two hours of this morning’s massage was when my bladder started demanding I empty it. This is an example of where it is necessary to override the body’s needs as long as only for a short time! When I did visit the toilet after the massage, a quick check in the mirror confirmed 1) my hair was such that I looked like a wild woman and 2) I had my shirt on back to front! A testament to how relaxed and embodied I was … the mind really had switched off!  Mostly anyway.

And this is just one of the body focused treats I am giving myself this week – my body has been denied its deeper needs for too long and now that I am enjoying listening to it, learning from it and giving it what it needs and wants, I’m making up for lost time.

I would totally recommend regularly reminding yourself that we are not, as society would often have us believe, just walking heads. This year, I will continue to focus on building and strengthening my mind/body connection. And I’ll be flagging up lots of wonderful local women who offer various services that support this, via a local blog.

It turns out that middle aging isn’t only about managing misery … Hallelujah!

The winter that just wont go

Winter is my least favourite season of the year. I do love Christmas, cosiness and candles but I don’t love winter lasting for nine months of the year. Talk about hogging the time of the other seasons. As with life in general, I can resist and resent it when my least favourite season lingers longer than a rotten fart. (you know who you are)

Anyway, I think it was the old lady from Downton Abbey that once said something along the lines of,

‘Life is just a series of problems …’

This may not satisfy the requirements of the ‘positive thoughts only police’ but they are probably more helpful than any fluffier counterparts in preparing us for reality on its own terms. I am often reminded of these words when I’m wishing some problem, or another would do one without me having to do anything let alone the work of learning any lessons from it.

This current seemingly never-ending winter is a problem because I can’t get on with my love of gardening. This is because the frost is still threatening to kill off anything not hardy enough to survive it, including me. I am still struggling to overcome my resistance/tightness towards putting the heating on when we’re nearly in May.

My favourite seasons of nature and life are spring and summer when I begin to see the results of all that was going on underground in winter. I do not love it when any winter season overstays its welcome.

This makes me reflect on the past few weeks where aside from the artic air temperature (12 degrees in my house this morning; lounge not garden), there have been multiple mess ups leading to multiple melt downs in the at times farcical face of technological failings. Last night threw up yet another one of these when the meal myself and my friend had ordered was still nowhere to be seen over half an hour later. When my hangry beast enquired as to how much longer it was going to be, we were informed that the new technology system had somehow got our order stuck. Fortunately, before I could have a monumental melt down, my calm friend handled it! And we got our grub five moaning-filled minutes later. (my moaning not hers).

Thumbs down to technology. Yes, there are incredible developments but is it reliable or consistent? Does it really save time or make things easier? All too often, it would seem to me at least, that the answer is no, quite the opposite.

And yet after the helpful experiences of humans that I had in the past two weeks when technology consistently failed, I was encouraged. Then this week’s trip to the cinema led to what felt like a case of, the computer says ‘no’ and so do the humans.  This despite us trying to pay money for tickets to Cineworld, just not an inflated amount for wanting a human interaction.

Then there is the mother scenario, where the first hand I was dealt was a diluted continuation of the difficulties that have been passed down that maternal line. Yet I have enjoyed the gift and privilege of eight precious years with a beautiful spiritual mother who loved and encouraged me in all I do. At least until that horrendous stealer of life, cancer, took her. Currently I am fortunate enough to enjoy a fabulous and fun relationship with a wonderful mother figure with whom I’ve had the pleasure of knowing for over eight years now. (Lord, please grant us many more.) We share endless cups of tea, chats about anything and regular sessions of shape throwing. We did these in her garden during lockdown and we still do that when temperatures are a long way above freezing. Otherwise, we dance around her lounge. With a shared appreciation for soul music we also enjoy not-regular-enough nights out with the local legend that is The Soul man. How grateful I am to have her in my life.

All of the above reminds me that life continues to throw up the rough and the smooth. And I continue to respond much better to the rough than the smooth. While I prefer my peanut butter rough, I most definitely prefer my life smooth. And therein lay my learning. Groan.  

I must now return to the ‘keeping of cool’ drawing board.