"You, yourself, as much as anybody in the entire universe, deserve your love and affection." (Buddha)

Be your guest

On Monday morning, I returned home at 1am from a weekend of dancing. I had a fantastic time on the dance weekender, and had forgotten that I had taken the time to leave my room tidy and organised, so it was wonderful to be greeted by a warm and inviting house at that time of the morning. 

How do you feel coming back to your home? Does it feel welcoming?

Have you ever had to let someone see your home, your computer, your desk, and realised at that point how it looks to the eyes of others? We often accept a lower standard for ourselves than we do for others, for guests. We need to be our own guests.

The week in Ibiza in September reminded me how I want my home to be every day - admittedly, we were very fortunate on holiday - I don't live in a four-star hotel, or have armies of servants to cook and clean every day, but it set the standard for orderliness and how I would like my home to be a haven. 

I find coming home at 1 in the morning is the best way to see your life through the eyes of an outsider. Did you leave in a rush, with everything in disarray, or did you leave everything as you would wish to find it? Would you want to welcome in an unexpected guest?

I compare it to the feeling you get when you see yourself on screen for the first time - it can be a shock to the system to see and hear yourself the way others do - but seeing yourself objectively is invaluable. It gives you the opportunity to ask yourself if that is an accurate reflection of who you really are. To ask yourself if that is how you want others to see you. 

I've had myself filmed twice now, once with dancing, and once with presenting. Both videos have given me the opportunity to connect how I see myself with how others see me, to make me more self-aware when I am dancing or presenting, to see myself in my mind's eye. They serve as a positive reinforcement of what works, and a constructive reminder of what I want to improve.  

And because I am aware of what I want to improve, I have taken every opportunity to practise - presenting at work, going on a dance holiday, going on dance weekenders. It's true what they say about practise. It makes you better. 

Seeing yourself on screen allows you to objectively compare yourself to others, because you can see for yourself what you do well and what your areas of improvement are. 

You need to let others see the real you. I recently attended a local speakers' group for the first time to observe as a guest. I stood up and introduced myself, and volunteered to do the 2 minute impromptu speech on an unprepared topic. 

I surprised myself by speaking for the full 2 minutes, and the members of the group surprised me by their compliments of my first attempt, and how supportive they were. I'm glad I dived right in, it gave me the chance to express myself and to realise I can do this. 

You have to let others see what you are doing, you have to open up the doors and let them in. You have to open yourself up, and trust that if you like what you do, others will too. 

It's the only way you will learn what you need to change. 

Are you willing to open yourself up? 

Purlgirl xx

“The thing that is really hard, and really amazing, is giving up on being perfect and beginning the work of becoming yourself.” Anna Quindlen

Leave nothing unfinished

There is something wonderful about knitting for other people, simply for the fact that we are making something by hand for another person, but there is also something magical in wearing and using our own knitted projects.

And often when we are knitting for someone else, there is a due date attached to the project, a birthday, Christmas, the birth of a baby. When we knit for ourselves, though, there isn't really a deadline, and it's often tempting once we have cast off, to begin a new project that has caught our eye, rather than finishing off the project we have been working on. 

I realised recently, however, that the real reason I was holding off finishing a knitted item was because once I finished it, I would have to wear it and show it to others. I find it interesting that I don't mind finishing off items for other people, but not for myself. I began to see that I didn't want to judge myself, or have anyone else judge something I had created, whereas a gift is more likely to be appreciated in the spirit it was given. Much safer to hold onto my own unfinished article, so that I didn't need to fear the possibility that someone might criticise it, or spot a flaw which I knew was hiding in the folds of my knitting somewhere, whether or not (as I stated in a previous post), I had sewn a button on it.

Well, the Quakers used to say that you should always have one mistake in your work - because no-one is perfect, only God. 

So that might be a good excuse if anyone should say anything. Truth be told, though, I have found from experience that the only one who is obsessed with that flaw is me. Because I know it's there. No-one else sees it, because they aren't looking for it. 

I am learning that although getting started is the hardest part, and that finishing is almost as hard, there is a sense of genuine satisfaction in finishing something, and that we are our own harshest critics - ever notice how others think that what you have done is just fine?

Instead of look at it with the critical eyes that we imagine others might have, we may need to recognise that we are judging ourselves, and that we are taking away the enjoyment of finishing the project. And that if we can't stop our critical tendencies, then to ask ourselves what we would say if our friend had knitted it? Because we would never be as critical of others as we are of ourselves.

And sometimes we come back to something a little while later, look at it with fresh eyes and realise how good it was all along! 

Purlgirl

xx

"Shine a light on your good qualities" (Crystal Andrus)

I went on a dance holiday in September, in Ibiza. It was a whole week of classes and opportunities to dance with other dancers. Some of these dancers on the holiday were more advanced than me, but the ones I can guarantee were better, were the instructors. 

And for the first time, half-way through the holiday, I decided I was going to dance with all three of the instructors as well as the best male dancer. I've been to a few dance weekenders now, and until Ibiza, I didn't have the courage to ask the teachers to dance. I might ask them to show me a move at the end of the lesson, I might even say hello, but until now I haven't had the courage to ask them to dance, believing that I was anywhere near good enough. 

But here's the thing, I've finally realised that the only way to realise what you need to learn is to ask the more advanced dancers to dance with you, and to be willing to dance with them even though you might make a mistake, or need to adjust to their style. 

This holiday I wore every sparkly outfit I have, we sat at the same table with the instructors at dinner, we relaxed around the pool with them, and you realise they're just people who can dance better than you can. That's why they're the teachers, they're there to teach us. And although we can attend every lesson and practise every step and technique they teach us, the only way to really learn, is to dance with them. 

Wearing  my sparkliest dress one night may have been a boost to my confidence to ask one of the instructors -  it certainly helped that I felt my best. I just went up and asked one of the instructors to dance - and I kept up with him. I also realised I didn't need to constantly anticipate his next move, I just had to be in the move at that moment, and let the next moment happen, and dance. 

That dance and realising that I could keep up with Kevin, gave me the confidence to ask the more experienced instructor two nights later, and by the last night I even asked the best male dancer to dance! And this time I could shine a light on my good qualities and laugh at any mis-steps and most importantly of all

- enjoy the dance!

Purlgirl 

xx

"Take the first step in faith. You don't have to see the whole staircase, just take the first step." (Martin Luther King, Jr)

One stitch enough for me*

Since last summer, I have been working on improving my swimming. My initial aim was so that I could go swimming when I flew home to Namibia at Christmas, now it's so that I can have fun in the pool in Ibiza in September!

I took private swimming lessons last year and thought that would teach me to swim. Now I realise, that was only the starting point, the rest was  up to me.

I have been going to the outdoor pool near my house regularly last summer and this summer, and although I would try to swim a whole length, I was frustrated that I would reach the halfway point, and no further, I would put my feet down and stop. I was so focussed on the end result, I let myself be scared by how much further I had to go.

But sometimes all we need is that next step that moves us on. For me it has been being willing to persevere and go to the pool at least once a week, and to keep practising, even if I didn't make the whole length. I decided that just spending time in the water would improve my confidence and just spending time in this beautiful place was restorative. Some nights I even just sat on the sidelines and observed others, soaking in the atmosphere.

And then my friends Cally and Sarah decided to join me one Friday evening. Their acceptance of my ability, and their willingness to swim over to my side of the pool and be in the same place as me, encouraged me to keep persevering.

We just splashed around and laughed and enjoyed the moment, and this has created happy memories about going swimming with others. At first I valued the solitude, and the peacefulness of the venue, now I am beginning to associate it with enjoyment.

On Wednesday, I had a breakthrough. I realised that focussing on the end point when I reached the halfway point was taking me out of the moment and that when I got there, what I needed to do was to forget about reaching the wall and just focus on my stroke, on each breath, on where I was. And suddenly, I looked up and realised I was nearly there and my second wind kicked in to see me through.

The first time I really remember noticing this was when I did Race for life last June. I did the 5k, on my own, which can be more challenging because when there are two of you, you take turns encouraging each other to keep going. The marshalls along the way are supportive and that helps, but I can still remember how I felt when I looked up and realised I had just the last 200m to go to the finishing line, and that I was actually going to make it. At that moment, I didn't care what my time was, or  how many people had crossed that line ahead of me, it was enough for me to finish the race.

When we feel unsure or stuck, we just need to find that next step that moves us on. Find that next pattern, try something a little bit more intricate, a little bit more challenging, each time. Eventually we will see the whole ladder, but for now one step at a time is enough.

The Japanese call it Kaizen, continual improvement, but it's also climbing that mountain one step at a time.  

Purlgirl xx

* adapted from John Henry Newman's hymn, Lead Kindly Light - one step enough for me:

"Lead, kindly Light...Keep Thou my feet;
I do not ask to see
The distant scene; one step enough for me"

"Savour every stitch and row - it will be over before you know it" (Purlgirl)

Knit every stitch

Recently, I knitted a baby hat for a pregnant friend, I presented it to her at a birthday party, it was passed round everyone, and everyone admired it. 

I don't have a photo of the hat. I forgot to take one because I was rushing to give it to my friend. 

The truth is, this isn't the first time I've forgotten to take a photo of an item I have knitted, even though I intend to post it to Ravelry* at some stage. It's as if the moment I finish a project, I'm racing to begin the next one. I don't take the time to savour the accomplishment, to recognise my achievement, the effort I put into creating the item. I am constantly moving the goalposts so that my goals remain just that little bit out of reach.

Taking a photo of each completed project actually slows us down and reminds us to appreciate what we have already achieved. The visual reminder is a reward, concrete proof of what we have accomplished.

We need not fear we won't achieve anything new in the future, we are simply pausing a moment to acknowledge ourselves, to restore our energy and motivation so that we can tackle the next goal with renewed vigour.

If we don't enjoy it, we will forget to appreciate it, and be rushing after the next knitting project - and forget to take a photo.

Celebrate where you are.

Purlgirl xx

*https://www.ravelry.com, a website for knitters

"We've been conditioned to not make mistakes, but I can't live that way" (Natasha Bedingfield)

Sometimes the only way to not make a mistake, is to have made it previously.

When I started knitting, I used to worry about making mistakes, I would become frustrated with myself when I dropped a stitch. Initially my fear was that I wouldn't be able to correct my mistakes, so I felt foolish for making them, like no-one else ever made mistakes. 

Several times, rather than ask for help, I would even unravel the entire piece of knitting rather than admit I had made a mistake. I would rather rip it up and start again, than reach out to someone who could help me. This was particularly true if it was not the first time I had made the mistake.

We've forgotten all the times we fell down when we were learning to walk. But we need to have just as much patience with ourselves now as our parents did then when we learn something new. We  have to pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off and encourage ourselves. Try again.  

With time we learn which mistakes we need to fix, the ones that left unattended would cause our work to unravel, and which mistakes are so minor that we can ignore them. The minor mistakes that we can make peace with,  embellish with a button or a patch, or even turn into a feature of our work.

We learn first to reach out and ask for help, from someone who has been there and made that mistake themselves. Over time, we learn to fix it ourselves, to pick up that dropped stitch, to pull back a few rows if needed. With practise we come to recognise the signs when we are about to make that mistake, and we can avoid making it in the first place.

And if we learn how to fix our mistakes and how to pick ourselves (and not just our dropped stitches) back up, we can knit on because we know we will handle it!

Purlgirl xx

"Your current safe boundaries now were once unknown frontiers" (anon)

Expanding our horizons

This quote reminds me that there are always new experiences out there.

This year I celebrated my birthday by going for an early morning swim at the outdoor pool near my house before going to work. In September I will be going on a dance holiday for a whole week in Ibiza. Two years ago I couldn't have visualised doing either of those things - I told myself I couldn't swim, and I had only just signed up for my first dance weekender. 

Then I visited my friend Nadean in Turkey and discovered that for someone who couldn't swim, I'm quite the waterbaby, and discovered that dancing til dawn on a weekend away is utter bliss, so what could be better than a week of dancing in Ibiza? (there's a pool at the hotel, too, so I'll need to practise my swimming for September!)

I have recently finished knitting a hood with cables, something else I would never have envisaged myself doing a few years ago. The first few times I came across cables, I couldn't get my head around them, and the first time I attempted them, I wasn't successful. 

But then I found a pattern for a hood with cables, and I loved the pattern so much I was inspired and motivated to knit the hood, which meant I had to conquer my fear of cables. 

And now that I have become comfortable knitting cables, I want to learn to do lace patterns next. 

In 2010, I signed up to my first 5k Race for Life in Bristol, and this year is the 3rd year in a row I have done it. The first year we did it in 44 minutes, last year I did it in 42, and this year my friend Kathryn and I did it in under 40 minutes. And now that I know I can do the 5k, I want to try the 10k next year! 

We take it for granted that children will learn to walk, even though it can take babies up to 2 years to learn, but those baby steps are just the beginning, and what starts out as crawling, eventually turns into walking and skipping and running. 

We may feel comfortable where we are now, but really, in some aspects of our lives, we are just learning to walk. We may even still just be beginning to crawl, but if we remember that we learned to walk and talk, we can have faith that we will get better as long as we persist. 

We may not always be able to see the improvement with every attempt, but if we stick with it, we will find that moment when it all comes together. 

That's when we lift up our eyes to the horizon to seek the next unknown frontier to explore and conquer. 

Purlgirl xx