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 Importance of Doing Nothing

Last Christmas I was fortunate enough to have a month on a dairy farm in New Zealand. This was with a very special family that I first visited in Christmas 2005 which subsequently turned in to me staying with them until August 2006!

We connected.

We fit.

We worked.

To re-establish the connection with them over Christmas by spending time in their midst was the most precious gift to me.

It was family.

And to be amongst them especially around the first year anniversary of losing my beloved spiritual mother, was the most healing and restorative experience.

I could just be.

At first they seemed surprised by my ability to simply sit and stare out the window. But then they realised that I hadn’t lost the plot, I was simply practising the art of doing that glorious thing called no-doing, or nothing!

Effectively, I was doing the equivalent of a phone being on recharge.

The view from the front of the farm

It helped that as the farm is situated amongst the green rolling countryside, the view out of every window was pretty spectacular. The assortment of fruit tree’s heavy laden with produce just added to the paradise feel of the place.

And, it gave me immense pleasure to use some of these fresh from the tree’s ingredients to bake all kind of goodies for such an appreciative, quick to devour style audience. As well as producing endless cups of very English tea.

I couldn’t have asked for a more beautiful place to simply be with family enjoying cups of tea, long meals, walks and film nights.

It was a real wrench to leave them again having been blessed beyond belief by their gift of time and family.

But of course, life was calling and I had to return.

Having been gifted with the chance to recharge my batteries, I returned to my life with a fresh vigour and renewed capacity for all the things that I love to do. So I hit the ground running and threw myself whole heartedly in to them all.

This has been great. 

But, just because I am no longer on holiday does not mean that the need for appropriate amounts of time and space to do nothing has disappeared. And having failed to schedule in enough of either, I was reminded last week that I need to slow down, pace myself better and guard my times to just be. Despite loving all the things I do, the need to also do nothing remains.

I know this stuff but how easy it is to forget. Or to get it wrong as my need for rest alongside my capacity for productivity are not static. I am delightfully aware that my capacity for all is significantly increased this year but I am not yet getting the corresponding balance of rest time quite right.

An article I read the other week also reminded me of the need to do nothing. Apparently the current trend amongst young people has shifted from YOLO – you only live once along with the FOMO – fear of missing out, on to JOMO – the joy of missing out!

And there was me thinking that such a joy, along with an appreciation for staying in and early nights, only arrives with the onset of middle age!

Apparently not as it would seem that even our young folk are realising that non-stop activity no matter how interesting, fun or on trend, is neither enjoyable nor sustainable.

We are returning to the age old wisdom that understands that in order to perform at our peak, we require times of inactivity.

The importance of rest or wall gazing time is for me at least, paramount. It allows me to process and to regenerate the creative juices. Without which I can find myself at a total standstill, feeling blocked. Not dissimilar to when my laptop freezes and refuses point blank to do anything.

I was reflecting upon this the other day when my laptop was going decidedly slow. I performed that high tech restorative operation of switching it off and on again, which appeared to breathe new life and speed in to it.

Gosh, I thought, if even technology needs to be completely switched off from time to time to allow it to function well, how much more must us humans?

It would seem that in order to prevent us from unwittingly slowing down, freezing or even crashing, we need to schedule in time to switch off from the constant stimulation of work, technology and modern day living.

In other words, we need to make time to be.

Be with God.

Be with family/friends.

Be alone.

But just be.

View from the back of the farm

To this end, alongside a refusal to fill all the gaps in my diary, I’ve begun booking coastal retreats for the next few months.

I aim to try harder to remember the need and the joy of missing out, by developing, planning, monitoring and practising the art of doing nothing!

Soul Matters

This subject is bang on my radar right now because I’m preparing a teaching on mental and emotional health. As I do so I am forced to look at the way in which our culture of ‘no feelings please we’re British’, contributes to our current mental and emotional health crisis. And on a recent trip to the west coast, I was reminded of how this can play out in my own life.

As part of my ongoing commitment to take good care of myself, at the start of this year, I made a commitment to take regular jaunts to the coast. Whether for twenty four hours or a few days, there is something about being by the sea that simply feeds my soul; the sight, the smell, the sound, the space. It stimulates my senses and brings me back to myself.

So this year, I’ve visited parts of the south, the east and now the west coast. I’ve ridden a horse on the beach, seen a seal whilst running on the beach at sun rise, I’ve swum in a wet suit and I’ve soaked up everything that comes with being by the sea. Including fish and chips and cream teas. Obviously. These times are utterly sacred gifts which I look forward to with gusto.

However, just before this latest coastal adventure, something that is happening with a significant person in my life, left me full of sadness. Subsequently my usual sense of anticipation for such a trip went AWOL. Even my first glimpse of the sea failed to elicit my usual gasp of excitement. And when I saw the masses of people in the seafront cafes, I turned and briskly walked away in search of somewhere quieter. I didn’t have the heart to put on a socially acceptable smiley face.

As the trip went on and I walked, sat and ate by the sea, I felt disgruntled by the ongoing presence of my sadness. Clearly it had not got the email that I was on holiday or read ‘the rules’ that state that sadness is not permitted during such times. Quite frankly I wanted it to do one. And I certainly didn’t want to interact with other humans that might need or expect me not to feel as I did.

But then, as I walked amidst the beauty and wonder of God’s stunning creation, something happened. I realised that it was actually me that wanted me to feel something other than what I was. I was on holiday so I thought I should feel happy.

I had unwittingly fallen in to the trap of believing the lies of our time. In this case, the lie that we should be able to simply choose what we are going to feel at any given moment, as if being on holiday should automatically elicit a response of joy, irrespective of whatever else is going on within our life.

I immediately reminded myself of that which I all too easily forget ie that if this was true I would be nothing more than a cold, hard, (British) robot, as opposed to an ordinary human being who has feelings of great sadness about the struggles faced by those I love. Instead of viewing my sadness as something to stiff upper lip away, I remembered that it was an expression of my own aliveness and capacity to care and feel.

At this point, I stopped battering myself for not striking up conversations with randoms like I usually would or for failing to bubble over with the type of joy that usually springs forth in response to the sight of the sea. Instead, I simply gave myself permission to feel my sadness. I gave it the respect it was due.

Paradoxically, no sooner had I done so when my usual sense of freedom and enjoyment began to trickle back through the gap that had previously been blocked by my staunchly British refusal to accept anything other than twenty four seven positivity.

I was reminded yet again that what we refuse to acknowledge always gets in the way of that which we desire to experience.

If you haven’t seen the film Inside Out, I would at this point totally recommend it as it offers an excellent illustration of this exact reality.

Anyway, I did enjoy the rest of my trip but it served as an excellent if painful reminder that when I feel sad, I need to acknowledge the validity of this by taking extra care of myself. What I don’t need is to attempt to will away my own humanity through sheer grit and determination.

No matter how well I think I know this stuff, with a culture that constantly feeds us the idea that we can simply pick and choose our thoughts and feelings to match the occasion, I still need constant reminders. This trip was one!

Our British culture has a lot to answer for!

So in summary, the time is long overdue for us to individually and collectively break free from these cultural chains that bind us to unrealistic, unsustainable ways of living, as if we are robots. I understand that there is much in the way of pioneering around robots at this time but let us not lose sight of what it is that makes us human, for the soul is something that cannot be duplicated or programmed on demand. It is unique, alive, precious, and worthy of being listened to, nourished and loved during its many states, both wanted and unwanted.

Soul matters …

NOW is the time, to just say … Yes!

Last week I bumped in to a good friend of mine, which meant that we got to enjoy an impromptu lunch together. How I love unexpected gifts like these!

Anyway, having witnessed much of my personal ongoing journey of healing and growth, said friend has been encouraging me for quite some time to start sharing my insights through my writing.

I’ve postponed and procrastinated and made a whole heap of lame excuses.

But the truth is that writing has been my passion since I was a child. My journal was my go to, way before I reached double figures. It’s instinctive for me. It’s what I do to make sense of myself and my experience in the world. I write. I need to write like I need to breath. And yet, again and again, over the years, this, my first passion, has been pushed to the back.

So as I listened to the catalogue of excuses pouring out of my mouth and in to my friend’s ears that day, I realised something.

NOW is the time, to just say yes!

How often do we delay the very things in life that we want most? Often whilst committing our time and energy to stuff that doesn’t really interest us. (And I’m not talking day to day responsibilities that none amongst us are exempt from).

I made a decision that day I met my friend.

No more excuses.

No more delaying tactics.

No more polishing up on my procrastination skills.

I would simply start. Right here. Right now. And allow whatever follows as I commit to making the space to write, to lead me on a journey in to I don’t know where. The unknown is beckoning. Which for me, is absolutely where the magic and the miraculous can collide with the mundane and the mess.

I’m excited …

Please feel free to join me as I embark upon this journey of ‘just saying yes’ to sharing my writing on here. Love it or hate it, I invite you to share your comments along the way.

And maybe, just maybe, you could consider what it is in your life that NOW is the time, to just say yes to!

Here goes …