Winter Solstice 2021


Winter Solstice 2021
“Inner peace is the key: if you have inner peace, the external problems do not affect your deep sense of peace and tranquility…without this inner peace, no matter how comfortable your life is materially, you may still be worried, disturbed, or unhappy because of circumstances.” Dalai Lama
The Winter Solstice is a time to gently celebrate, then hibernate, rest and reflect on the year gone. A very gradual rebirth stirs as the light grows. Part of this process is what do we need to let go of spiritually, mentally, emotionally and physically to become “lighter”, what seeds would we like to nurture, what future do we aspire to?What gifts can we exchange and share with others? This year is fuller than others with uncertainty; how can we nurture and stabilise ourselves internally? Old emotional triggers may appear over the next few days, weeks; they are being activated so that we can release them and develop/maintain that vital sense of inner peace as well as tranquility.
There is a feeling of working on what needs to change within ourselves before the Universe “makes us” when we are unprepared. Patience, including compassion for ourselves and others, is another key this Solstice. Reserving judgement until we have a clear sense of what exactly causes us disharmony/to be triggered  and what action do we need to take – remembering not to panic; there is time throughout this part of the solstice. After 1st February we will have greater understanding of  the options we have, together with a clearer understanding of what is truly our community.
What does leadership mean to you? It is a strong theme this Solstice. Are you easily influenced by others? Do you control by being stubborn, withdrawing, gaslighting, giving your power away? Have power over? Maybe this is about a harmonious form of leadership, being open minded, knowing when to be camouflaged, when to be visible, when a situation requires authentic team work, when internal work in solitude is required.
Challenges can be questioning personal loyalties (beliefs, ideals, opinions and people) which may be misguided, not wanting to check out what is real and applicable practically, caring too deeply as a form of avoidance, being ungrounded/accident prone because of preoccupation. It will be really helpful to strengthen our spiritual practices, keeping them simple in order to ensure that we use them daily, even hourly at times, as the energies around us may be turbulent at times. A reminder that the greatest darkness can hide in the light, and light can appear in the darkness. As the Dalai Lama also says “Compassion is the radicalism of our time” this includes forgiveness. Interestingly humour can be a great strategy in order to lighten up.
Finally whatever happens we are moving towards Spring and any personal work we undertake now will prepare for then. Breathe into your very bones anything that truly feeds your soul.

Autumn Equinox 2020

Autumn Equinox 2020  

 

Yesterday I was clever, so I wanted to change the world. Today I am wise, so I am changing myself.” – Rumi

The autumn as ever is a time to bring in the harvest and take stock, prepare for the winter; balance the books. More than ever this applies to all aspects of our lives – physically, emotionally, mentally and spiritually. At this time of year the weather is notoriously unpredictable which in turn can be mirror uncertainty in our day to day living.

There may be a restlessness to change our world, but however challenging the outside world is, we are equally being given a chance to continue working on ourselves, our
personal relationships and what community means to us at the moment. What can we carry forward from the last autumnal equinox, what can we let go of, what are we unsure about? Are we living in the past or are we projecting too far into the future? What did we learn about Truth and how we discerned our personal truth during the Spring Equinox/Summer Solstice? What is your intuition telling you as opposed to your instinct or the influence of others which can lead to us losing a sense of self?

Some of the challenges of this equinox will be about balance with adherence to convention one moment then tilting out of balance the next which may be influenced by misplaced loyalties, misunderstandings, power struggles, a desire to be perverse/hedonistic. Taking time to reflect, to be still, and not overreact will be essential. Finding glimmers of joy within the chaos will help overcoming toxicity such as overwhelming frustration, fear and anger. If we can identify the source of our personal chaos, it can gives us something concrete to work through, taking personal responsibility where we can and digging deeply to respond with clarity.

We are going through an individual and collective grief process, whether we are aware of it or not. This grief process effects everyone in different ways and is certainly not linear. Loving kindness, respect and compassion are the best tools to offer others as well as giving them to ourselves.

Damien Hirst at Houghton Hall

A visit to Damien Hirst at Houghton Hall, historic home of the Walpoles and the present Lord Cholmondeley

 

Seeing a vibrant poppy, literally emerge from its green pod, has signalled to me that it is time to write about going to Houghton Hall and Damien Hirst. I went with two close friends instead of watching ’The wedding’ on television. What a beautiful sunny, pleasantly warm day. Driving towards the car park I spied a colourful cube out of the corner of my eye and thought it was an amusing image of ice creams – how wrong could I be! As we walked towards the stables, I was thrilled to see Richard Long’s group of tree stumps, called White Deer Circle, was still there. It had fascinated me the first time I saw it. I had spent hours exploring each stump, marvelling with childlike curiosity at the minute worlds reverberating with the magic of nature. It was very comforting to know it was permanently there to explore again and again.

 

We made our way to the Cafe for an early lunch, I now realise how important that was. It would not have been wise for me to embark on this journey on an empty stomach. We were greeted as we entered the empty cafe in such an enthusiastic way, I couldn’t resist saying “Well you certainly look pleased to see us”. Was the whole of Norfolk really glued to the television or was this a reflection on Damien Hirst? Either way our lunch of ‘pretty as a picture’ salads was delicious and very peaceful. As we emerged back into the courtyard at ease with the world, there was a large, really large statue of the familiar iconic girl in a caliper called ‘Charity’, the box broken into with the money scattered on the cobblestones. Cynical, and to be expected from Mr. Hirst. At the back of my mind, now realising that the ice cream cube I had noticed before was in fact skin. Hmm, did I want to have a closer look when we left?

 

I love the familiar walk through the alley of limes from the stables through to Houghton Hall itself and the formal grounds, otherworldly tinged with excitement of what will be discovered there this time. First we went into the south wing gallery with two colourful Spin Wheels of Paint, not particularly original, but appealing in a random sort of way. A broad grin spread over my face as round the corner I saw the pillarbox red woolly dog with squiffy eyes and a bone. Emm, I was intrigued by what next. Lightweight so far?

 

 

 

 

 

 

As we approached the main house, there were two imposing and initially dramatic mythical sculptures on plinths – one of a unicorn and the other of Pegasus, each one with half its body exposing red muscles and sinews. Heraldic symbols perhaps?  As I turned to enter the house, almost discretely hidden under the side portico was a black statue of St Bartholomew holding a whole human skin. I gasped as the reality sunk in. Transfixed as if I had been lulled so far by the lightweight energy. As I entered the house itself I came face to face with the Anatomy of an Angel, again with the half and half exposure made of what appeared to be flimsy white material. What a contrast with the stark realism of St. Bartholomew.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As I ascended the staircase leading to the main rooms, I glanced down the stairwell to see a metallic decapitated pregnant woman, Barbarellaesque, half her internal organs and baby exposed. Basically her guts hanging out.  Her right hand lying on the floor together with the fingers of the left hand. The whole image felt trapped in the stairwell and representing an act of rage towards women. This was strangely reminiscent of Horace Walpole’s gothic horror novel called the Castle of Otranto written in 1794. Someone being crushed by a giant helmet. The decapitated head was in a helmet. I shuddered especially when I noticed the blinded faces on the stairs looking down at the sculpture. Were the ancestors’ of Houghton resurfacing as ghoulish spectator ghosts?

 

I followed the signage, slightly disorientated, into a large reception room with naive paintings of coloured dots displayed nonchalantly amongst the grandeur. One of the guides, equally nonchalantly, said that of course they weren’t actually painted by Damien Hirst. Then his quote came into my head “I couldn’t be f***ing arsed doing it” and that he had only originally painted six. He described his efforts as ‘shite’—”They’re shit compared to … the best person who ever painted spots for me was Rachel. She’s brilliant. Absolutely f***ing brilliant. The best spot painting you can have by me is one painted by Rachel.” It was as if a pin had burst some kind of balloon. When questioning the guide as to whether he had in fact been hands on with anything here. I could feel anger beginning to surface as I knew the answer before it came. Admittedly fuelled by my true outrage at the decapitated pregnant woman. Were these dotty paintings ‘new’ at all? Had they been painted by his minions? Did it matter? Somehow it didn’t have the same energy as other artists who had assistants.

 

My attitude from then on, was passive-aggressive disguised as a outward pose of boredom. The placing of The Dots in this contrasting setting was at best amusing, at worst pointless – oops. The large cases of floating balls grabbed my attention for a few moments, appealing to the child in me until the overriding irritation resurfaced and I couldn’t wait to get out. I went to the reception desk, bought a small guide to the exhibition and protested saying “I am sure I didn’t pay £18 to see the previous exhibitions”. The man looked at me very sympathically and complicitly confirming that I hadn’t – did the Angel nod too?

 

With a sigh I found myself outside in the sunshine. Like a homing pigeon headed for the slate full moon circle by Sir Richard Long. I wasn’t angry anymore but soothed by its earthy energy and the stress on Sir went back in its box.  I get his work and the man who says

“In the nature of things:

Art is about mobility, lightness and freedom.

Simple creative acts of walking and marking

about place, locality, time, distance and measurement.

Works using raw materials and my human scale

in the reality of landscapes.”

Two giant sculptures of a pregnant woman and a man half exposing their skulls and insides, felt harmless and absorbed by the landscape. They gently made me want to show my friend Long’s slate Wilderness Dreaming. To my delight in another part of the garden I discovered for the first time a stainless steel sculpture of a Scholar Rock by Zhan Wang. Another artist I get. His work challenges me to look deeper into myself and at the same time notice how the environment is mirrored in the sculpture and ever changing, inviting me in. Having watched him being interviewed at his studio in Beijing, I am still pondering on his thoughts that art can be used to convey the thinking of the social and political environment of all issues but should not be used as propaganda. It is about the artist’s attitude towards truth. I can’t wait to come back on a duller day and see how it has changed and what it can teach me. A quick look at Hirsts the Hat Maketh the Man – a) certainly not original and b) in a slightly neglected unusually drab part of the garden but loved the pink chestnut flowers hidden there.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Returning to the Stables for a much needed ‘rest’ and drink, I smiled wryly as I saw in the shop that I could buy a dotty plate or a colouring book so I could learn to paint dots too. Really? However I had a delightful conversation with the lady there and she found me the last copy of the Velveteen Rabbit. We shared our mutual love of the story and I left the shop a happy bunny!

 

My friends and I sat companionably in the garden enjoying our refreshments having a good old post mortem of Damien Hirst at Houghton Hall. Entertaining, or otherwise, our neighbouring visitors – was I holding forth a little too loudly! My friend, Charles, asked if I had seen James Turrell’s Raemar Magenta and when he took us there I was riveted by his room filled with colour and the different experiences it evoked in me. Another artist I get. “I apprehend light — I make events that shape or contain light.” Raemar Magenta certainly did that for me. I have never seen his Skyspace Seldom Seen. I definitely will when I come back.  I have also discovered there is a Skyspace in Ireland – already on my list for my next visit.  “You could say I’m a mound builder: I make things that take you up into the sky. But it’s not about the landforms. I’m working to bring celestial objects like the sun and moon into the spaces that we inhabit.” How could I resist.

 

We finished our visit by spending some time in the walled garden and as I regrounded myself in its timeless and ever changing energy, I had that wonderful feeling that the day had fed my soul completely in the company of two good friends. A huge sense of gratitude to Houghton for providing the multi faceted space that can be revisited as many times as I want and on my doorstep.

 

Now that I have had time to reflect on Damien Hirst, I realise there is something very sad about an old enfant terrible who has never been that original. He has been a true business entrepreneur and entertainer but somehow now it feels hollow, and yet both the hidden St. Bartholomew and the decapitated woman still have a resonance for me. Weirdly I shed a tear thinking of them. Was it worth £18? Of course, the whole experience was worth way beyond that. I did not revisit the skin as we left but I did wave a grateful goodbye to the White Deer Circle.

 

 

 

SMELL the ROSES meditation workbook deadline!

The best laid plans … not meeting a deadline


Well here we are, the morning of 30th May and there is a strong possibility that I am not going to meet the deadline of launching the meditation workbook for SMELL the ROSES by tonight. For the past month I have been doing a 30 Day Challenge with John Williams for this reason – the workbook is ready, the website is there but …. I could gnash my teeth, cry, rubbish the whole 30 days (a bit dramatic) or just laugh!

Laughter feels the best option! Especially as in the workbook I say “Thoughts of meditation can fly out of the window when strong emotions are triggered. This can happen to all of us and it is helpful to be aware of what some of those triggers might be. A guaranteed one for me can be my computers playing up when I least expect it, especially when I have set myself some unrealistic deadline! What are yours?

As I have said, at some stage of working with meditation, you will probably get an attack of self-doubt. This can happen more than once especially when your intuition increases another notch or you might be overdoing it. I love the acronym RUD (Rapid Unscheduled Disassembly) devised by Elon Musk and his team when they first started Space X. They experienced so many of their rockets exploding, they coined this tongue-in-cheek acronym to keep them going. Self-doubt can feel like rockets exploding in our brains. It is a very normal part of developing a skill and helps us move forwards.”

So there I was yesterday afternoon with my favourite triggers “computers and IT” combined and RUDs exploding in my brain. It was bound to happen but I needed to live in the solution. A quick two minute meditation got me back on track. At least enough to see, I was powerless over the IT stuff as it was now in someone else’s hands and of course they didn’t have the SAME deadline as ME – I can hear  my grandmother’s voice saying “Not his baby”.

After listening to the above meditation, I was left with what am I going to do instead. I decided to listen to the Bear Story as simply listening to it makes me smile. I don’t actually have to do anything else just listen. That’s what I did.

In a much calmer frame of mind this morning, here I am writing a blog post about my RUDs and how I changed my perspective. Whether I meet the launch deadline or not, this will get posted as it has helped me this morning – it might even help you. More importantly I will enjoy the rest of my day.

As I am about to post this, http://smelltherosesmeditation.com/ has gone live and the SMELL the ROSES Meditation Workbook has gone live ….

Rubes Cartoon used with permission. For more Rubes Cartoons visit RubesCartoons.com<http://www.rubescartoons.com>

Pain, meditation, Smell the Roses

This blog is about pain and meditation, what I discovered from personal experience and what kind of meditation helped – interestingly at times what didn’t. A few days ago a friend asked me if I had kept a diary on my full knee replacement. My answer was no but said I had learned a lot.  On and off over my life I have had back ache, broken a few bones and given birth twice but nothing like the pain I have experienced recently.

I have become far more empathic to people who experience pain every day without respite and certainly humbled by the thought of them and full of respect. I was told by the doctors and nurses before the operation that it would be very painful and to be honest, in hindsight, I realise that was totally meaningless to me. They could not have said it differently either. However, it gave a friend of mine and myself time to prepare in the best way we could. Because I have been abstinent from drugs and alcohol for over 30 years I wanted to avoid opiates, so she made me a meditation tape visualising a time when my knee was pain free and I listened to it at least twice daily for about a week before the operation. I went to hospital full of confidence and very relaxed.

Although they blocked the nerves around my knee and gave me an epidural, they didn’t sedate me. I was fully awake for the sawing, hammering and soldering as well as the fun banter. I listened to an extended album of the Beatles amid the hubbub. It was all very surreal and it felt like I was in one of the comedic parts of a Shakespearean play. I happily carried on with the visualisation and the terrific nursing staff were very impressed with my ability to deal with the pain. This carried on for about three days after I got home.

Then it all changed! I started to argue with the tape. “You have no blank blank blank idea what this feels like!” I ought to mention here that I have been teaching meditation for nearly 30 years and am an NLP practitioner, but rant I did and wondered how often people ranted at me in their heads when they struggled with meditating! Well I had to get my little grey cells working as taking opiates wasn’t an option. I realised that what I could do was pant and believe me there was no danger of hyperventilating – I could only do it in short bursts and then groan. Yes, it reminded me of giving birth. As an aside, I also remembered panting helped my husband when he had a heart attack.

Once the pain eased after panting, I could focus on a one or two minute meditation. I distracted myself by watching day time television and reading pot boiler books unashamedly. Thank goodness I have a sense of humour, although occasionally I thought I had lost it, as I could laugh with people who were having similar experiences. After about ten days, I could work again from home using FaceTime and Skype. I started to move around more and do the exercises you have to do through the pain to get the knee moving. I have become addicted to ice which has been a life saver. I am bizarrely grateful for paracetamol and ibuprofen which I never thought would happen and at the same time can’t wait to stop taking them going back to alternative solutions but not quite yet. I can use the visualisation again too which is good news even if not all the time.

A week ago I had the opportunity to join 30 Day Challenge, which I had done a few years ago to finish my book Healing the Ouch of Disappointment. I just jumped at the chance to work with John Williams again and get Smell the Roses, a meditation workbook, finished and out there. It has really helped me get my creative juices going despite the on-going pain which I need to remember is about healing my knee. The first month is over and they have said it takes two. By that time Smell the Roses will be up and running as a digital workbook.

I appreciate even more the love and support from friends and family, the little things that bring so much joy: gifts of flowers, plants, books, treats. Wandering slowly out in the garden and watching nature unfurl, my grandchildren shrieking in delight as a chicken escapes. All of this can be a form of meditation and Smell the Roses is about busting a lot of myths around what meditation is. Needless to say I have added a section about pain and meditation. By the way,  John’s latest book is called Screw Work Break Free and is worth a read.

Being a Grandmother and the lessons I have learnt so far . . .

Wow – being a grandmother

Being a Grandmother

I probably started my initiation as a grandmother when I was born. I had two grandmothers. One was an earth grandmother and the other, who brought me up, was the complete opposite. The ‘earth mother’ one taught me all about nature, cooking and how to grow pumpkins in compost. The other one took me at four, to the college of psychic science to be with the mediums there. They mothered me and began at an early age to teach me how to use my intuition properly. So, in a way I had very balanced role models.

My spiritual practice and support system has been there a long time but as a grandmother it is even more essential, like a super lighthouse guiding me through so that I don’t get lost or flounder. Part of that support system are the wise women and other grandmothers who share their journeys – I can’t imagine life without them.

One of my most precious possessions is a Native American pottery figure of an owl storyteller with her grandchildren. This was given to me a few years before I actually became a grandmother and somehow it started a ‘broody’ feeling deep in my gut. Babies seemed to gravitate towards me everywhere I went. My two sons got married not long after this, and, soon grandchildren started to arrive.

Storytelling

When Oisin was born, seven years ago, I felt a surge of passion I hadn’t expected and this has continued with the birth of each child. The last one was born just before Christmas and the passion is still the same. Each birth has had its own signature and, interestingly, I have had a different role each time. Caleb was so determined to be born at home (despite the fact that wasn’t the plan) that I was very much part of that process. It was an amazing family experience as he literally fell into my hands as my daughter in law had no contractions to speak of and my son cut the cord. Even if I haven’t been at all the births, my bond with each of my grandchildren is just as significant.

It was quite a challenge the first time I realised ‘Oh my goodness I have to share being a grandmother with someone else. Surely he is MY grandchild.’ For the first time in my life the green-eyed monster of jealousy reared its ugly head. Now I can laugh about it. I am incredibly grateful, as a therapist, that I recognised this quickly and got help. It took time, but what I finally got in touch with were my own fears around my mortality, which I hadn’t felt before. As a grandmother I am not going to be around all their lives, and that makes them all the more precious to me.

I enjoy letting the child in me play, explore, get dirty and, if I forget, they remind me of the wonder of the world we live in. With Miles, who has lived in cities so far, we love exploring different streets, go to parks and museums and weave stories about the people who live in the city. With the grandchildren who live in Norfolk, we tend to go to the beach or wild countryside and tell different stories about nature and animals. One of my ambitions as a grandmother is to be part of their getting to know both worlds, whether it’s a city or the countryside. Sometimes I can do that through storytelling and hopefully we can visit both more.

A few years ago, before grandchildren, I found myself with some Aboriginal grandmothers. They had been desperately thinking of ways to help their grandchildren who were beginning to sniff petrol out of boredom and abandonment by their parents. They learnt that if they sat quietly and painted stories containing the wisdom of their tribes, the children would eventually become curious and ask questions. I was privileged to see this happen and have used it as a way of passing on family history, not because my grandchildren have been abandoned, but because, as a grandmother – like my grandmothers before me, I am a holder of our history. A couple of years ago I wrote a book called ‘Healing the ouch of disappointment’ dedicated to my grandchildren. It contains the tools that I have used in my life and passed on to my clients as well as a story to help us look after our energy field. My grandchildren can read this even when I am gone and I suspect there might be another book or two before I pass on to another dimension.

I have learnt that my grandchildren are like sponges, and observe everything we do and how we interact with others. They need to make up their own minds what they choose to copy and what they don’t. They also have ears that hear round corners and are very good at spotting inauthenticity. As a potential role model they keep me on my toes, and as I am not caught up all the time with their day to day needs, perhaps I am more aware of this. Having had a grandmother who would repeat everything I told her, I know how important it is to be someone my grandchildren can talk to and trust. This reminds me that each relationship with the children is unique, and how important it is to have special time with them individually.

Being a grandmother does not mean that I need to give them more time than their parents. My sons still need their mother and that relationship is always growing. I love both my daughters in law and have never seen them as ‘just providers of grandchildren’. I had a stroke a year ago and the love and support I have had from my family is amazing but they have had their own challenges and we need to support each other. What I have noticed is that I can be quite a tiger grandmother over the whole family, not just my grandchildren, and sometimes I need to rein that in.

Very often the help and support that my grandchildren’s parents need is very practical: picking up from school, babysitting, feeding, helping with general family logistics – and I have been happy to do that, as well as the ‘fun’ things. Although I am a loved grandmother, I have to remember that my grandchildren are growing up and their needs will change. I have to watch out for having a favourite age, as each age will have its joys and pitfalls. What I can add to childcare, as opposed to someone from outside of family, is that I love the children with all my heart.

An added bonus of being a hands-on grandmother of seven children is that I can incorporate this into my practice as a psychotherapist. Not only do I have the experience of bringing up my own children, but I have young children around again and am part of their growing up. Sometimes I can be a ‘grandmother’ to clients and help them understand the dynamics in their own families. What a gift it is to be a grandmother …

 

This personal essay was written for Wilding Magazine Volume 3. (The journal for ‘free spirited’ families.) March 2016.

I highly recommend this beautiful publication, and feel very privileged to be part of this edition.

 

Choices and perception

Interesting that at the moment I am looking at how much my thoughts influence my perception. Some of you might be thinking “well of course they do” and, yes, I know that too but I have decided to take a closer look at the choices I make and how quickly based on my perception.

For instance today is a beautiful sunny spring day, high tide on the marsh, colours vibrant and had a lovely walk with my grandsons. Saw a different perspective because of the high tide which reminded me of a similar scene with one of my son’s in November and a happy occasion. Do I always feel happy on days like today? A friend of mine talks about “being in hell in Paradise”. Thought provoking! In fact do I feel happy all of the time? What choices do I make and are they the right ones?

My honest answer is No. So what do I do when the answer is No? For me I can’t waive a magic wand and change my feelings like that, however I can acknowledge them, make the choice about “how long do I want to feel like this for?” and then start the process of changing my perspective. Sometimes this can happen quite quickly and at others it takes longer. The truth can be that at times I haven’t wanted to or been ready. Today I do know that staying in the gloom is more uncomfortable than asking for help/support even though I know I have to make the change myself. Usually I need to tell one other person what is going on, then it is what I call an inside job. If I stay in the gloom, I make the wrong choices – either too quickly or not all, reinforcing the gloom.

I have been teaching meditation a long time and over the last year I have been aware that one minute meditations are very effective and can work like pit stops during the day. One of the reasons they are effective is because doing one is the first choice we can make in changing our perspective. Worth trying …

[vimeo]https://vimeo.com/160998981[/vimeo]

 

Life pilgrimage. What does “hitting the wall” mean?

Writing about ” hitting the wall” in my recovery from a stroke made me think about it at other times of my life. In a strange way, it is almost every time I have done something for the first time. It doesn’t happen straight away – it is usually when I don’t expect it. I have been reading Satish Kumar’s book “No Destination” and he talks about when we journey as pilgrims we go with a sense of the sacred without making demands and we expect a certain amount of inconvenience and hardship.

It has made me realise that my life is a series of pilgrimages and eventually morphing into one big pilgrimage of gratitude and respect for the world I live in. So that means that “inconvenience and hardship” are there for me to overcome and become compassionate, understanding, stronger and loving. So I hit walls… Of course I do and will. Sometimes I come to a wall and it takes me a while to realise I can turn left or right and see where that leads me. At other times I notice there is a half hidden door in the wall which opens with a bit of effort. Sometimes I can see that it is actually possible to climb the wall with care as rushing at it is not a smart move I have discovered.

One of the best ways is to find somewhere to sit quietly and meditate upon the situation. Very often I then discover I have made the wall myself through fear, assumptions/expectations and misunderstanding timing – followed by an understanding of lack of preparation and maybe not trying to do things alone! Oh that pride and “I should be able to do this”! I think I have finally learned that my ego has no place here. I hope I have. Although I might want to give up, I never do because in my heart I know I am growing until I pass on to another dimension..

Ever since I was a little girl, I have loved watching the sky and this morning was no exception and it is continuously changing which is what makes it fascinating to me. What appear to be inconveniences and hardships can often turn around. The Aboriginal people also taught me that where there is a poison there is an antidote, I have to notice it.

equinox15 010

 

 

 

Having a stroke, blog 3

Gosh I have just realised that I haven’t written anything since mid-July. This might have something to do  with the fact that, about a month ago, I hit a wall with my recovery from a stroke. ‘Hitting a wall’ emotionally is a strange feeling – a mixture of fear and wanting to hide. For about  3 or 4 days I tried to push the feelings away, but unsuccessfully. The fear was mainly about saying out loud that I felt I was going backwards in my physical recovery and that, that would continue.

Luckily I had an appointment with my doctor and was able to tell her how I felt. She explained that my body and my brain were trying to figure things out, which was causing some confusion physically. A few days later I was teaching someone to deepen their meditation practice, and during the course of these couple of days, she told me to get in touch with the lady who has always looked after any back problems I have had in the past. She has been able to use Cranio-Sacral techniques. During the first session she said ‘Oh, your right brain is angry with your left brain.’ This made total sense to me, as my left brain was being quite philosophical about the situation, and my right brain was frustrated and felt frightened because the way that I use my creativity had been hampered by the diminished dexterity of my right hand. It had felt as if the two sides of my brain were speaking to each other.

This is a classical example of living in the solution not the problem. Although my right hand is still wonky and slightly unreliable, at least I understand what is happening to me. Lots of my symptoms are hidden from other people, and I had got to the stage where, if one more person said ‘you are doing really well’ I would have decked them! Needless to say I got to the doctor just in time.

Although I see an NHS doctor, I do pay for the Cranio-Sacral treatments that I have, and I am very aware that not everyone can do that. What I have been given are very simple exercises, for instance; touching my nose with my left and right index fingers with my arms stretched out on either side, lifting one leg up and touching it with the opposite hand. It may be a question of asking your doctor or NHS Physio for these kind of exercises. I have subsequently found out that the symptoms I am experiencing don’t happen until about 6 months or later.

One of the interesting things is I have never been able to write with my left hand, and by accident discovered that I can. However, what I am now doing is still practicing slowly with my right hand, so that I don’t ignore the slow progress I am making with my right hand, but progress it is.

Whenever I feel discouraged I think of the 2 young women; Emma and Rebecca, who saved my life in February, and I keep trying. Their part of the story is for another blog.

Highlights of my overall improvement have been; going to Legoland with my grandchildren, and subsequently taking them to the Fakenham fair – all on my own. There are 3 of them here and the youngest is 2. More outings of this kind tell me that I am definitely getting stronger.

 

Having a stroke, blog 2

So why was I in agony – I had gone for a short walk the day after I came home, then the next day I went for another and a bit further. That night I was in agony. I was put on some medication immediately and after quite a few days of that medication I was in tears with the pain. Fortunately I had a friend with me and with perseverance I got to speak to a doctor and she said “Stop taking those pills immediately, you are allergic to them”. As if by a miracle the pain stopped. I should have been given more guidance before coming home. Nobody’s fault but you can fall between two stools very easily. Never really understood that expression till now but you can so easily forget to ask the right question and others make their assumptions about you.

Without friends and family, I would have been lost. A dear friend from France came and looked after me for a week. In that time she was like a terrier and moved heaven and earth to get the physio to come and see me. I had been left off the list for goodness knows what reason. The strangest thing is that I am usually good a these kind of situations, teach Assertiveness no less, but I had no “fight” in me whatsoever. I shall probably keep saying that for a while. Without her I would probably never have been seen by the physio.

Using scissors and cutting my first slice of bread was my aim at the time. Figuring how to put a Bra on was next. More about my progress anon. However, today what is foremost in my mind is the gratitude for the story of the two mugs that turned into five! My IPad has been a life saver and I saw there were some mugs for sale and they were lovely. I always need mugs! So I sent off for two. Then to my horror I realised they were going to the old address and emailed the contact number immediately. No worries said the lovely lady and it was sorted. By some blip, they got sent to the old address nonetheless. Another email, the lovely lady said she would send another two mugs, her fault, plus a print of feathers as an apology! I forgot to mention that she had added a mug with feathers on it as I had said it was a shame she hadn’t that mug left but she found one without a box.

In the meantime, my husband had gone to the old house and by a real stroke of luck had managed to get hold of the original parcel. So today I have five mugs which I have paid for with the added bonus of a beautiful print and a delightful coaster. What was I going to do with the extra mugs? Then I remembered the two friends who fetched me from the hospital and have come every week to study and chant with me as part of our Buddhist practice. A mug each feels the least I can do. More than anything gratitude is what gets me through the day. The  mugs are made by a very talented Sarah Travis and she has a great Facebook page. Thank you Sarah too.image

More about the stroke to come …