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