Letting go to be me

This morning I left my house to discover that I am ready to let go of the pressure I put on myself, the pressure I allow others to put on me, and to let go and flow with the rhythm and pace of my life.

I am coming to the realisation that all this pressure and all these expectations are not good for me, my health, or my well-being.

I have begun to understand that my life is okay as it is, and that following the path that it is directing me on, is the one that will allow me to become myself, if I am willing to trust in it and the future.

I have spent far too long trying to be the person everyone else thought I should be. Or perhaps it is more honest to say I was trying to be the person I thought others thought I should be. It's been as if I have spent so much of my time on alert, on the constant lookout for signs from other people to indicate whether I was on the right track or not.

Even though, through my coaching, I have worked hard to improve my listening skills, I realise I have still spent far too much of that energy on trying to assess and anticipate the thoughts and feelings of other people when I am with them. 

This constant vigilance is not at all helpful, because I cannot be all things to all people. If I am always trying to be who and what others want me to be, this will change from person to person, and I will never know who I am; the person I am right now, and the person I am becoming.

I can never truly be the person that anyone else wants me to be, or the person I think that person wants me to be. And even if I could, I would need to be a chameleon, ready to change all the time. It would be as if I had no identity of my own, because I would never know when I would need to change again.

That's why I need to discover who I really am, to allow that identity to form and to develop, and become strong enough that I would know who I was, no matter what situation I found myself in. Or which people I meet and spend time with in my life.

This means I need to become aware of my thoughts and feelings in situations and circumstances. I need to become aware of what is important to me, what I value and enjoy, and what makes me happy.

On the face of it, this seems so simple, so obvious, yet I am coming to realise that this is not always what I've been doing. That I have been waiting for someone to tell me who I am – who that "someone" was, I did not know, but I am learning that that someone is me. It may not be fully clear to me yet, but I am beginning to see who I really am, and who I am becoming, who I want to become. 

And as I do this, I am letting go to become me, because I can choose the person I want to become. I'm choosing who I want to be. 

I want to be Lynn, I want to be me.

Identifying the essentials

Recently I spent some time going through my possessions, and even though it doesn't feel like I have made any progress, I filled 4 bags with items to donate to charity. I filled the bags with a variety of things - books I won't read, clothes that no longer suit me, and other items that are a part of my past. I was surprised to discover how easily I could let go of many of the clothes, even though I do not yet have suitable replacements. I came to the realisation I did not feel that they are worthy of the woman I see myself as.

It's funny; whilst I was in Germany with my parents for a week at the end of July, I wore about 2 different outfits - either jeans and a top and trainers, or leggings and a top and trainers. I had intended to buy additional items before I flew out; in the end I did not even buy them in Germany. I did not really need them in that moment. I was able to make do with what I had. Actually, wearing make-up and feeling fresh and clean was the most important. I even wore the same necklace and ear-rings every day for a week, and nobody said anything. I discovered I didn't need to try so hard. I did not need a 2nd pair of shoes I had carried with me, and when I really needed a few extra tops, I found just the right T-shirts in my size to last me the week.

In spite of the fact that I have now travelled a bit, including for work trips, I never realised before just how little I really need; what is actually absolutely essential.

Because I had sprained my ankle not that long ago, I was restricted to trainers in terms of shoes, and this did limit my wardrobe, but this was really a fortunate incident, because it meant I had less to take, and therefore, less to think about when I was there. In fact, it was ideal.

And so when I woke up on my first morning back, and opened my wardrobe, the first thing I noticed was that most of the items of clothing in there I did not want to keep. I no longer even wanted to wear them. And, instead of doing what I would previously have done, and talking myself out of this thought, I took these items of clothing out and put them straight into my bags, to donate to charity. I decided I will replace them when I need them; I wouldn't even put them aside for 6 months "just in case". I will buy new clothes in due course, and make space to allow new styles and colours to find their way to me.

It wasn't just clothes I  could get rid of though - even an old wallet that I had saved for foreign travel, and a pocket mirror that I never use, and a miniature lipstick compact that I had treasured for years, but not used in ages, went into the bags. As did a pair of evening gloves, and a sparkly crop top that I may or may not have worn to go dancing, but is no longer my style.

And whilst I hadn't known the charity shops closed at 4, and did not actually get around to taking these bags to donate and let go completely, that first weekend, placing the items in the bag in the first place, was actually, the first, most important, step.

In some instances I came to realise I had bought too many of an item, because I did not keep my belongings organised, or I had bought a new one when the previous one no longer worked, but did not dispose of the first item. Even more surprising, were some of the items I had had for years, had desperately wanted at the time, perhaps, and never even got around to opening or using, for one reason or another. The reasons aren't necessarily important, but it has made me realise I do not really need as much in terms of material possessions as I had believed, and I am happy to shed this excess weight; to begin to buy only what I need, and to be more mindful when I purchase things in future.

I'm still not entirely sure how and where to dispose of some of the items (batteries need to done separately, and I can never remember the rules about lightbulbs), but I now understand that even just separating them out and marking them to be disposed of, allows me to learn to let go and live with what I need.

Purlgirl

Breathing out

I wrote this last September. I found it over the weekend and am sharing it now, as it reminds me of this.

I've finally come to the realisation that autumn really is my favourite time of the year, and that if I had to pick a favourite month, it would be September.

Without a doubt, every year on the 1st of September, I feel like I can let go, I can relax, and I can stop holding my breath.

I think it may partly be to do with spending June, July and August wishing it to be sunny and warm - if the weather is changeable in June and July, as many years it is wont to be, it feels as if I am having to wait for August to make up for it. And if it's a glorious summer, with wall-to-wall sunshine, and long hot sunny days, no matter how much I enjoy myself, and make the most of it, in the back of my mind there is the realisation that this can't last, even if it's sunny until the 31st of August, the summer will eventually come to a close.

And at other times the sunny weather can even seem to create a peculiar kind of pressure - to feel as though I must do something; it's not acceptable to be indoors, to not want to go outside and sit in the park. In addition to this, summer is that time of year when the majority of people go away on their summer holidays, and whilst I may have exactly the same amount of annual leave days in a year as my colleagues, it can feel as though they have more - simply because most years I need to save up a longer portion of my holidays to fly to Namibia, and visit my family. When you're flying 8,000km to go home, you want to make the most of it, and one week or 10 days is barely enough time to recover from the travel (fortunately no jet-lag), and going in August is not ideal because it's their winter.

So all of this, combining the tales of other people's exotic holidays, which they are either going on, or returning from, can make it feel as if the summer is endless.

When I worked on a temporary contract in Bristol years ago, this didn't bother me, because I was in demand in the summer, and I was covering for people I didn't know, and wouldn't meet. Plus, the more I worked, the more money I could save up, so there was a reward in doing as many hours as possible, and I could enjoy the sunshine at lunch, and after work. 

In Bristol, I used to walk home via one of the parks near the Avon River, and one of my favourite things to do on my way home was to find a spot overlooking the river, and to sit and be with my thoughts; I might sit and write, or reflect on the day, or simply watch the seagulls wheeling above the river. This was a time of peace that I would relish every day whilst I was at work. I knew I could savour it later, once I'd completed my responsibilities.

A few years ago, a group of dance friends and I signed up for a dance holiday in Ibiza in late September. That summer was amazing; I had something to look forward to all summer, friends to share in the excitement and run-up to the holiday. Plus it was all-inclusive - including all meals, all expenses and dance lessons, which to someone like me, who finds organising the minutiae of a holiday challenging, if not time-consuming, was ideal. All I had to do was pack my bags, and remember my dance shoes, and I was ready go to!

It has reminded me that it's good to have something to look forward to over the summer, to try and build in time to rest and to remind myself that all I have to do is make it through to September, that golden month when I can pause and take stock of what I have achieved, and recognise I still have 3 months to ensure I make the year one to remember.

Purlgirl

“You can't connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future.” (Steve Jobs)

It's been 5 years since i started writing this blog. This will be my 50th post on this blog, and it feels like a milestone.

So much has happened since I started this blog. I have grown in ways I could never have foreseen, in many little ways, and in some more substantial ways. 

In the past 5 years, I have experienced a number of significant events in particular - I started and completed a Coaching Diploma, I have moved house, I have celebrated my brother's wedding and the birth of my niece, I have started a knowledge-sharing group where I work and taken it global to colleagues in our Singapore and India offices, I have been diagnosed with and learned to master Dyspraxia and Attention Deficit Disorder, I have learned to swim, to meditate, and I have begun to learn balance.

This blog has taught me much about myself, and connected me to people across the world. I have learned so much about the world, because writing this blog has led me to look for themes to write about, new connections, new experiences, and ideas, and coming to see myself as a writer. I am finding my voice, and I can see how I have grown, and yet looking back, I can still see my intention in my first post, and that I have remained true to that intention. To write, and share my story so that others could see that they are not alone. Because the world is so big and vast, we can trust that there are other people out there who see the world the same way we do; aside from the people in our immediate lives, our friends, neighbours and people in our communities. They may also be in another city, another country, on another continent, or on an island in the middle of an ocean.

Whilst going through my wardrobe yesterday, I noticed that I have maybe one outfit that I bought more than 5 years ago, and it brought home to me that even though I sometimes may not feel that I have changed in the past 5 years, that I may find it difficult to see myself as that changed person, that if I think about the clothes I no longer wear, then I can see that I have changed. In the same way that I have changed habits, and let go of other unhelpful habits and ways of being, I have come to learn what colours and styles suit me, and my personality, and my needs as I have grown.

I think the most valuable experience I have had, has been becoming my own person, and recognising that I have something to offer to the world, and that I can only succeed by being my best self. So often we think that we need to follow what someone else has done, to succeed like they have done. What we don't realise is that we need to stay true to ourselves, and that we have an inner guide to direct us. That if we are following someone who is already successful then we are already behind; it is too late to start saving up for our dream house by the time we see it. We need to trust it is out there and save up for it anyway, so that when we see it, we will have the money to be able to buy it. It is too late to become the person we want to be by the time we meet our ideal partner; we need to think about, and know who we want to be, and work towards becoming that person every day, with every action and choice, and trust we will know when we meet them.

Writing and sharing this blog with you, has given me an opportunity to learn who I am and what I stand for, and I am honoured and touched that so many people have read and followed it over the past 5 years. 

I thank you for your support, and I look forward to the next 5 years.

Purlgirl

"You can't calm the storm, so stop trying. What you can do is calm yourself. The storm will pass." (Timber Hawkeye)

  

I originally wrote this last November. I have retained the references to the date, since it takes me back to that day.


Buffeted by the wind

Watching the red kites over the skies of Oxfordshire today, I have realised we cannot fight the wind, or the rain. When times test us, we need to decide whether we are being presented with an opportunity, a challenge, or a learning curve.

It may be all three. During times of change or adversity, in whatever way we find them, we have the choice to learn and grow.

We have experienced some turbulent events, in 2016, especially, which have revealed to ourselves and others, who we really are and what we truly believe about the world.

Whilst this may not always have been a pleasant surprise, it shouldn't stop us from striving to live our best lives, and to continue to love and help others, and to reach out to strangers and acquaintances.

We might discover new friendships, and people who want to continue in their quest to make this a better world for everyone.

As the poet Rumi tells us "Yesterday I was clever, so I wanted to change the world. Today, I am wise, so I am changing myself."

I am coming to the realisation that there is something that I can learn from every single individual being on this planet, even if sometimes it is just to recognise that they may be showing me who I do not want to be, or to show me what I no longer want to be.

For instance, I am no longer 21. Whilst I had to be 21 to become 22, and 22 to become 23 and so on, I have no wish to be that age again. It's an age I had to experience, with lessons to learn, people to meet, and challenges to overcome, and has led me to be the person I am now, today, nearly 20 years later.

It hasn't always been plain sailing during that time, but I can say I have gained something from all of it, the good and the bad, the wise and unwise decisions I made.

Which brings me back to the kites. Today has been a blustery November day, and I noticed that when the wind is strong, the kites stretch their wings out wider, to brace themselves against the wind and stay aloft. You can almost picture their concentration and determination to hold their course, as they steady their tail feathers, and tell the wind, “I can outlast you.”

It's been fascinating to watch, and to remind me that the challenges I have overcome so far, have made me stronger and - as long as I choose to keep learning - to give me strength to face tomorrow.

After all, if I remember to take it one day at a time, I am strong enough for each day, which is all we really need: to be strong enough for today.

Purlgirl
 

"You need to keep finding yourself, a little more each day" (Richard Bach, 'Jonathan Livingston Seagull'*)

I'm not the same as you, and that's okay

 

The full realisation of this and what it means, only came to me recently. I realised that I'm not even the same as others who have been diagnosed with Dyspraxia or ADD.

 

Even if I hadn't been diagnosed, I would still not be the same as you (whoever you are, reading this).

What does that even mean?

Who decides, and how limited our world would be if Steve Jobs, or Richard Branson, had conformed?

Funnily enough, it was a pair of cordless Bluetooth headphones that really brought it home to me.

I bought a pair for a long train journey over Christmas, and the fact that they are wireless, is great, but actually essential for my co-ordination and concentration. I no longer find myself becoming entangled in the headphone cables, or scrambling in my handbag to turn down the volume, or move to the next song.

I also find myself unconsciously dancing along to songs whilst waiting for the bus. After a few days of this, one driver in particular remarked on seeing me dance to the music as pulls up to the stand. It makes the wait for the bus more enjoyable and puts a smile on my face.

We can never be exactly the same as someone else - they may be married, or not, have children, or not, even have twins, or not. We're not the same as our parents, siblings or our other halves.

That's why I'm convinced that childhood bullying does so much harm, and can leave long-lasting effects. It's the first point where children are identified as "different" and anyone who is not the target of the bullying, observes what makes people vulnerable, and may be tempted to suppress or hide that in themselves, to appear to be "like everyone else". They want to be accepted, instead of walking across to the child who is being targeted, and saying "you know what? I feel the same way" or "I'm interested, tell me more."

On a wider scale, it leads to conflict amongst adults, but just imagine if we could let, and even *encouraged* children to be their own unique selves, to recognise and accept that we are not all the same, and could find a way to make peace with that?

I'm not the same as you, not just because I have been diagnosed with a learning difficulty, and I see the world differently in some ways. I’m not the same as you because I am an individual; I am one of 7 billion unique human beings on this planet.

I'm okay with that. I'm more interested in the things we have in common, and learning to understand our differences, however small. I believe every one of us has a role to play in this world. I find that fascinating. Maybe we can only figure out what that role is when we stop trying so hard to fit in. When we stop trying to be like everyone else, we begin to seek out our gifts, we can be willing to own our uniqueness, and through that find our place in the world.

Purlgirl

* 'Jonathan Livingston Seagull', by Richard Bach, Turnstone Press, 1972.

 

In skating, you learn to click into that zone and focus not necessarily on what you're doing but if you're doing it well. (Dorothy Hamill)

 

Growing up, I loved to watch ice-skating, especially figure skating. I used to love watching the couples dance but I also used to find myself drawn to the individual figure skaters.

 

I loved how they would choose a piece of music, and then design and choreograph a routine to go with the beat and rhythm and energy of the music. Whether it was an upbeat pop song, a slower-paced ballad, or a piece of Classical music, they kept in tune with it, adjusting their speed, adding flourishes, including the basics, and adding a few spins, twists or jumps.

 

The double axel jumps* were always the steps that drew and held my attention, because one moment they would be skating, backwards, or forwards, and in the next, switch to the new move, and suddenly build into this fantastic spin - (the sit spin, the camel spin or the upright spin)** - and of course, the leaps, when they gather their energy and focus into that moment when they need to begin the jump, stay in that moment as they are flying through the air, whilst remembering that they still need to land on one skate, and carry on skating to continue with the routine because this is only a small part of the performance; the song isn't over yet.

 

What amazes me is the thought of how much time, effort and energy they needed to invest into this routine that in the final competition might be no more than 5 minutes long.

 

How long must the choreographer have spent in designing the dance, how long to design, make and embellish the skater’s outfit, and the hours and hours and hours of rehearsal in private to master it all. To master the basics, the steps, the combination of skating and timing of the music, never mind the order of the steps to create an elegant, cohesive whole that will be seen by the public and evaluated by the judges.

 

Even then, the skater needs to prepare themselves for the judges’ verdict; to be evaluated on their technique, and their performance. It's perfectly possible to get a good score in one aspect, less so in another, but overall it's the combination of all of those aspects that leads to the final score and ranking.

 

The skater needs to focus fully on herself, her skating, and her performance, regardless of the other competitors - she has to know she has given her all and done her absolute best.

 

And once the competition is over it's back to the drawing board to choose a new piece of music, design a new outfit, and rehearse a new routine, with the benefit and insight of the judges' feedback.

 

I've been learning to master my Dyspraxia*** for two years now, and in that time I have learnt and incorporated many strategies and continue to seek new and better ways of accomplishing tasks. It has involved many hours of practice, of repetition, and refinement, to improve myself, my work, my approach and my presentation. It sometimes feels as if what people see on the outside is a five-minute performance that is the result of months of rehearsal.

 

When I'm facing a challenging task, and it takes me longer than I would wish to understand and complete the task, it feels as if I am that lone figure skater who needs to build up all that energy to lift themselves into the air, to spin, and land successfully on that one skate. When I imagine myself as a figure skater, a challenging task is only a small part of the performance, and landing safely leads me into the rest of the routine to finish with a flourish.

 

The entire performance relies on a combination of my routine, my appearance and my technique. All three are vital to the final result and all need my attention and polish.

 

It also reminds me to complete the task – you can't stop a jump a mid-air.

 

Visualising myself as a figure skater reminds me that the performance is a combination of different steps which all come together to the music.  It allows me to see myself objectively as others do, and evaluate myself and my performance.

 

It helps to remind me that rehearsal is a part of the process, as is feedback, and as long as I focus on that, I can keep improving, and grow to become my best self and to strive to express that to others.

 

Lynn

 

* https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Figure_skating_jumps

** https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Figure_skating_spins

*** Read more about my diagnosis and experience on my blog, Dyspraxic Pioneer

"Each of us, singly and with all the others, is answerable for creating joy through the way our lives unfold, here and now" (Arthur Egendorf)

Believing in hope - even if it has to start with us

The more people I meet the more I realise that whilst sometimes we may need others to be the light, if we each take care of ourselves, we will have light to give, and we can light our own candle to show others there is hope.*

We have an impact, whether that be positive or negative; what we say and do, has an effect on the people around us. My sister-in-law, for example, has a wonderful habit of asking serving staff for their first name whenever she goes out, and addresses them personally by name throughout the evening. At the end of the meal, she then writes a note on the back of the receipt when she pays, to say thank you and express her gratitude.

It's the little things that people do that make a difference. Sometimes all it takes is a smile or a kind word, and who doesn't have that to give?

If each of us tends to our little corner of the world, and our neighbours, we can make things better and give comfort, no matter how small that might seem.

If things are not going well for us, we can ask ourselves how we can help to be the light, and it may even be as simple as asking how we can help.

We can't know until we speak up, that there are more people out there who feel the same way about the world as we do. It's best not to wait for others to go first. I often choose to disclose first that I have been diagnosed with Dyspraxia and Attention Deficit Disorder**, and through this have given others the permission to come up to me and say they have been diagnosed, too, or know people who have been. It creates a safe space for them to be honest about their experiences. 

It reminds me that I am not alone, even if I am on my own, and that I cannot do it all alone. When I was organising my visit to Singapore and India in May, I needed colleagues in those offices to help me book meeting rooms and send out the initial invitations for the workshops; and when I was away, I remember being truly touched, when a colleague who helps me put up posters in our local office, volunteered to check the posters back home were up-to-date.

I'm not suggesting we pretend to be happy if we're not, or when things are tough; it's vital to take care of ourselves, and sometimes we'll be the one who needs the kind word, but if we're more willing to give it away, we can trust it will be there for us when we need it. We all go through difficult times, but they are made more bearable by knowing that we are not alone.

Over the years, I have collected a number of stones, each engraved with a different word, such as "peace", "courage", "happiness" and "hope". 

I carry the stones with me every day, so I always know I have hope, even if it's only the hope I carry with me in my pocket.

I have found that when I find myself telling someone about them, that's when I realise they need that stone more than I do in that moment, and I'll hand it over to them, whether that be hope, trust or even joy.

If we could think of our smiles and kind words in the same way, if we could imagine giving them away like the engraved stones, perhaps we might recognise their value, and how much weight they can carry. How they can serve to remind us that we are not alone, and that there *is* hope and love and peace in the world, and that if we turn our attention to these virtues, we can help to spread them out into the wider world in our own unique way.

Lynn

* "There are two ways of spreading light: to be the candle or the mirror that reflects it." Edith Wharton
** Read more about my experiences of being diagnosed and my experiences on my blog, "Dyspraxic Pioneer"

The only thing we have to fear is fear itself (Franklin D. Roosevelt)

Facing our fears

It's been said our fears are the monsters we believed were under the bed when we were children.* 

I don't remember being particularly scared of monsters under my bed as a child. Maybe that had something to do with sharing a room with my brother when we were very little. Being the one on the top bunk, the only thing that was under my bed back then was my younger brother in the lower bunk, and whilst we didn't always get on, I wouldn't call him a monster! 

Then when I was a little older and graduated to having my own room, my bed was one of those double mattress affairs, and there wasn't any space under the bed for a monster to live - unless it was a very small monster, or an only an inch high, and a one-inch high monster wouldn't have scared me because it would have been so much smaller than me. 

So I don't remember being scared of monsters under my bed. What I do remember was a sense of being not quite perfect, and always wanting to get things right. This was not a helpful approach to life, since, as I've said before 80% is distinction, and this belief that if I couldn't do something perfectly I didn't want to play meant I would sit on the sidelines and watch other people being messy and imperfect, and learning how to do the things I wanted to do, such as learn to swim or drive a car. Eventually I did learn to do both of these things, but looking back now I wonder how many other things I could have learned if I'd not spent so much time wanting to be perfect at them, and if I'd just started sooner. 

Perhaps this fear of not being good enough, of not being perfect was my monster under the bed. In the same way as I would sit on the sidelines and watch, over time I didn't just believe there was a monster under the bed, I didn't even want to step off and walk past the bed the way a child might cautiously tiptoe past to avoid being noticed by the monster. Ever find yourself trapped in the bathroom with a spider because you're waiting for it to move out of the way? And how long are we prepared to wait for that spider to move rather than take a deep breath, reach for a single moment of courage and step past it? 

And if we allow that fear of the monster under the bed to persist unchecked, without taking a deep breath, reaching for that moment of courage, and checking under the bed, we can find ourselves marooned on our island bed, stuck in our rooms, waiting and relying on other people to come to us. We can end up living our lives in just one place, a very limited space, and miss out on so much. 

Much better to check under the bed, verify for ourselves whether there even is a monster under the bed, and if there is something there, then we can decide what help we may need to handle it. And the only way to do that is to switch on the light, and look for our fears. It only takes a minute to check so we can decide what to do. If we decide we do need help, then we can call on someone to help us handle it; and if it turns out it was in our imagination all along, we can climb down off the bed and cross the floor, to open the door and step outside, into the world. 

The question is, what's really under the bed? 

Lynn 

* (unknown)

“Happiness is when what you think, what you say, and what you do are in harmony.” (Mahatma Ghandi)

What I learned about myself in India

When I was in India last month, I realised how little I really need, how so much stuff is really just a distraction from who I really am and what I really want.

When I was in India, I saw myself as I would like to be because everyone was so friendly and welcoming, and greeted me with a smile first. I felt appreciated, but more than that, I felt accepted for who I was, as I was.

Whilst I was there, I came to see I could be myself; I could be warm and open with everyone I met, and tell them my "good name" and where I was from. I felt I did not have to pretend to be anyone other than who I really was, and that who I was, in that moment, was enough. And because who I was was enough, I could see my best self revealed; someone who was interested in the wider world, in the people I met, in the beautiful architecture and vibrant sights and sounds of the country.

However long I spent with people was enough, and I could trust and follow my intuition to lead me to discover and experience a wonderfully rich country for myself.

I didn't need jewellery, material possessions, or very much else, and yet I was happy with what I had and what I experienced.

Having been back for a few weeks, I have come to realise that until now I had left a part of me in India; the authentic me that I discovered during my time there, and that the full impact this trip has had on my growth and development as a person, is only beginning to become clear to me now.

It's as if I left my spirit, or my soul, behind for a while, to give me time to return to my everyday life and to make space within myself for the person I am becoming, that person I could see so clearly during my time in India.

My hope is to retain that feeling and sense of my true identity for as long as possible.

Telling my story is just one of those ways of keeping that authentic self alive, and being true to my best self, that person I could, and want to be. 

Lynn

"The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeing new landscapes, but in having new eyes." (Marcel Proust)

Stepping back

It's a good idea to take a break from your life every now and again, to view it with fresh eyes, whether that be your home or your work or any other aspect of your life, and evaluate if you've set things up as best as they can be. 

I have discovered how easy it is to fall into routines that become habits, that aren't necessarily healthy or good for me. I try as much as possible to strive for continual improvement in every aspect of my life, and I find it a challenge. The Japanese call this Kaizen, and it has almost become a game to improve myself in this way. 

However, we aren't machines, and even computers need to be switched off and recharged occasionally! 

I had the opportunity to do this recently. Rather than try and squeeze everything into December, before Christmas, this time I tried something different, which meant I was away for the first two weeks in January, the greyest and bleakest days of the year, plus still the shortest days, probably my least favourite time of year after the bright lights of Christmas. 

I worked up until Christmas and then took a longer annual leave at the start of the year to top up my batteries, as well as my tan. This meant that when I left work at the end of last year, I had to be sure that I had planned ahead for my return, and to make provisions for colleagues and clients whilst I was away. 

I knew I had to set everything up so I could hit the ground running when I returned to work, in the same way as I would leave my flat as I wanted to find it. I wouldn't want to come back to find I'd forgotten to wash the dishes for 3 weeks! 

Whilst I was in Namibia, taking time out to enjoy the sunshine with family and friends, I discovered how much I like being able to stop and take a step back. To reflect, to write in my journal, to read, to listen to music, to watch the birds and the wildlife, to doze by the pool, and most of all, discovering how relaxing it is to colour in, which I think may be the perfect activity to do with friends - you can sit quietly listening, or you can join in the conversation because the only thing you need to concentrate on is staying within the lines. 

As a result, I found myself bringing this new-found knowledge back to the UK with me - I am recognising that I need a certain amount of time by myself, (especially in the winter months), and that I absolutely love allowing my inner child to choose which colours to combine to create vibrant images during my leisure time. 

I also discovered that some of the good habits I had set up before I left had stuck, so they were now as automatic as riding a bike, and I could feel they were right because they were effortless to do. I could recognise how much I have changed and the ways in which I have improved; whether or not other people had noticed, it's important that I recognise this for myself. 

I also discovered that if a new way of doing something hadn't stuck, and it still seemed like a good idea, it just meant I hadn't practised it enough until it became second-nature, so I made a conscious effort to do so on my return. 

I took a fresh look at my life and my work, and because I hadn't even looked at my computer for a month, I could see what needed tidying - the way you would when returning to your flat to realise that something is missing from your wall, and framing that picture you like. Having 3 new colleagues join our team has also helped - without even the need to say anything, new people always make you challenge yourself and ask yourself if you would teach them how to do what you're doing, or whether you would suggest something better. 

I'm glad I took the time out to step back from my every-day routine for a while, and I hope I can find other ways to review and refresh my life more often. 

What would you change if you could see your life through new eyes? 

Purlgirl

"The best way out is always through" (Robert Frost)

Overcoming our challenges

 

I participated in an adventure course with my colleagues recently, and learned a lot about myself through the experience. 

 

Doing an adventure course with my colleagues was a great experience for a number of reasons - our support of each other, our patience with each other, and the shared knowledge that we could overcome each of the challenges, and get through.

Especially by the time we reached the final zip wire, and were cheering each other on. I imagine it will also give us a shared language of experience that we might be able to use back in the office, and to see each other in a different light.

 

Before I started the course, I wasn’t sure I could do it, but with each course, my confidence in my ability, and my self-belief grew. Initially, each challenge was difficult, and some seemed insurmountable, but by the third time I had done the zip wire, I was even starting to enjoy it - I had developed a technique through repetition, it seemed familiar, and I knew what to look out for (e.g. that the landing area was clear), and I could even start to relax and to look around me. 

I learned that for me the best way to land was not to face forwards and try to stand and land running, but to slide in sideways and slow myself down by dragging my heels. On the last one, I even discovered that I could control what I thought I could not (the direction I was going to face when landing) - by exerting pressure to turn my body to shift direction.  

 

Twice we were presented with the choice of the moderate or the extreme route, and I'm pleased to be able to say that each time I decided to stretch myself and chose the extreme route. And I made it, each time. Once, I was even able to call back to a colleague who was starting out on the extreme option, to share what I had done to get through it myself, so it really was a team effort, even though when it came down to it, we each had to overcome the obstacles by ourselves.

 

I am glad I stuck with it, even though I had several opportunities to change my mind, to choose not to participate and even begin the course. It took patience, courage and strengths of reserve I did not know I had. I have previously found similar obstacle courses quite difficult, and I can see now that the attitude I brought to the situation, and the decision to take each course one step at a time, to remind myself I only had to reach the next platform, meant that not only did I make it through, but that I even began to enjoy the challenges. I remember thinking that one day hence I would like to look back and remember that I was exhilarated and excited, rather than anxious and tense. It made me think about the future at the same time as I was in the present moment, which allowed me to fully focus on the now.

 

I took so much from the course; remembering to use the right clips to attach myself to the safety line helped anchor me to the present moment, and gave me something familiar to do, no matter which obstacle I was facing, and this week I have even found myself beginning to visualise challenges in light of the obstacles - using them as a metaphor, and seeing myself in my mind's eye, completing the obstacle, one step at a time, and then asking myself how I can get through to the other side. The obstacle course leads you along the route, and all you have to do is take the next step.

 

And the main thing I learned from the course?

 

I am strong enough for this step.

 

Lynn

"Effort only releases its reward after a person refuses to quit" (Napoleon Hill)

 

Honour your energy

 

I usually go dancing on a Monday night, it's a great way to start the week and it's one of the highlights of the week for me. Recently, I had an important presentation on the Tuesday, and this time I decided not to go dancing.

 

Whilst I love dancing and it would have created energy, I realised that it was time better spent either preparing my presentation, or preparing myself.

 

I'm learning to honour my energy.

 

Some days I am lively and energetic and I feel like I can take on the world.

 

On other days it may take more of an effort to get out of bed and leave the house, and I used to try and force myself to do things when my energy was low.

 

Instead, I'm learning that's when I need to shift down, into neutral and slow down. That's when I need to come back to myself and to do whatever it takes to nurture myself and nourish my soul and my body.

 

We may put in all the time into preparing a presentation, we may spend hours writing it up and rehearsing, but how much time do we spend preparing ourselves? How much time do we spend ensuring that *we* are ready? That we have eaten right, that we have had enough sleep, that we will be ready the next day?

 

I've taken to keeping the focus on me when I have a big presentation, project or assessment coming up. I study and write and rehearse, but I have also learnt that all the rehearsing in the world won't help if I am tired, if I am not present, if I am unable to give my full attention to the moment, to be ready to adapt and cope if things don't go as planned.

 

So on Monday night, I didn't go dancing. I went grocery shopping instead and bought enough food to last me the week, to stock up my pantry. That's when I realised I really wanted flowers. I had been waiting until I finished the presentation and I knew it had gone well, before buying the flowers as a reward.

 

When I saw the flowers, I realised that I wanted to give them to myself as a good luck wish, that I wanted them to be there in the flat waiting for me when I returned, no matter what the outcome was.

 

Writing up, preparing and giving the presentation, was in my control. The outcome and how it was received, was not.

 

Why wait to reward myself, when I was rewarding the effort I had put in? When it's the effort that matters?

 

When it felt amazing to come home to the flowers already in the vase when I got back? That way I didn't talk myself out of buying them depending on the outcome.

 

The outcome doesn't matter. What matters is that we tried, what matters is that we put in the effort, and that we worked hard and did our best.

 

And we can only do our best when we take care of ourselves, when we honour our energy.

 

Purlgirl xx

 

"Real generosity toward the future lies in giving all to the present." Albert Camus

This post is dedicated to my aunt, Janet Stone, who donated a kidney to a family friend this week, at the Christiaan Barnard Hospital in Cape Town in South Africa.

Giving what we can

My aunt donated a kidney to a family friend this week. It's an awe-inspiring gift to give to someone, especially when that person is not even a blood relative, no matter how close. I imagine we all think that we would be willing to donate a kidney to a family member if needed, certainly a child or a parent. 

The reason this is inspirational to me, is the generosity of spirit and heart it would have involved, even before the practical side of it, preparing for the operation and then the actual surgery and recovery itself. 

I like to think of myself as a generous person, I give when I can. I'm sure we all have times when we feel a little fearful that we won't have enough. 

Imagine giving away your kidney, instead of a few coins or even your time. That truly is something that you have to give without any sense of expectation or gratitude or return. And whilst giving money or time is important, to see someone being given the opportunity and the chance to live a better life because you have given a part of your physcial body, that must be priceless. 

I can only hope that if the opportunity to do something similar presents itself to me one day that I can be as selfless. It's only now that the process is over, that it I am really starting to realise the magnitude of just what it is my aunt has done for her friend. 

I wonder if we can think about the times that we give away anything, whether it be donating an organ, donating blood, giving money, time or love, and reflect on what we are expecting to get in return, and whether we can do it in the same spirit, not expecting anything apart from our own sense of having lived a life bigger than we are. 

George Bernard Shaw said, "This is the true joy in life, the being used for a purpose recognised by yourself as a mighty one." 

This truly is the gift of giving. I'm so proud of my aunt, and sharing the experience on social media really helped hit home that there are good people in the world and people to inspire us to do good and be good. 

My aunt is one of those people for me. 

Purlgirl xx

"With all there is, why settle for just a piece of sky?" (Alan & Marilyn Bergman)*

Finding my wings

I believe swimming may be the nearest we can come to flying.

 

I love to swim - I love to spend time in the water, it takes all my attention and puts me in the present moment. 

 

And I can swim at my own pace. 

 

I have discovered I like to swim underwater, and that if I swim for two strokes underwater, I can focus on the feeling of being in the water, my body feels more comfortable and sometimes I will even swim a whole length underwater (it's a small pool)

 

I could never have imagined I'd get to a stage where I felt comfortable in the water** and that I would find a swim-stroke that suits me. 

 

When I am facing a new challenge, it reminds me that if I could learn to swim, I can learn to do this. I didn't learn until I was in my 30s, and I needed private swimming lessons to get started, but since then I have continued learning to swim by myself for the past 4 years.

 

I can still remember the time and effort, the persistence and determination I put into the lessons so that I could learn to bring together all parts of the process - learning to combine my breathing with my arm and leg movements, and combining all of this to stay afloat and to learn to be in this moment, to not look at the wall, but to focus on my breath, on each stroke. 

 

I feel free in the water now, I feel graceful, even more so than I do when I'm dancing. It has taken me 10 years to develop my style, longer than some others, and I still have some way to go, but I now feel comfortable on the dance-floor.

 

My favourite bird is the red kite, it glides effortlessly and soars. I love watching these majestic birds, catching the wind to take them where they want to go.

 

Swimming is the nearest I can imagine coming to flying, especially being weightless. 

 

I have to remind myself that I *can* learn. 

 

And if I can learn to swim, I can learn to fly. 

 

Purlgirl xx

 

* Line from the lyrics to "A Piece of Sky", (1983, Sony Music Entertainment Inc), lyrics by Alan and Marilyn Bergman, music by Michel Legrand. Sung by Barbara Streisand in the film "Yentl" (1983, United Artists through MGM)

** "Your current boundaries were once unknown horizons" (anon) - a post I wrote previously about learning to swim