The Reward is the Journey

It's gotten colder. Quite a bit colder, actually. I woke up to a fluttering of snow on Saturday. It was crisp and bright. Winter made her long awaited appearance. It was the most beautiful day to give my long winter coat (something of a favourite that rarely fails to attract remark amongst my generously complimentary friends) it's first outing of the season.  I was attending a Study Day in central London meaning that I didn't manage to really greet the elements until Sunday.  The pool beckoned mid morning, after the Club races had concluded, at which time I swam mostly toute seule. My swims follow something of a predictable routine: creature of habit that I am... I get changed quickly and sit on the edge at the deep end, legs dangling, gauging the temperature whilst I adjust my swimming caps (I have been wearing two since the end of September; silicone for now, to be replaced with neoprene shortly).  My toes alerted me to the fact that the te...

Teaching with Sarah was something I had been looking forward to for some time... The idea came about a little while back, when Sarah returned from India having completed her yoga teacher training. The theme came to us without much need for deliberation. Life has thrown plenty at both of us recently and we have found ourselves staying close (rather than clinging) to 'Let Go' as something of a mantra... For me, teaching on a Saturday involves letting go of several things: my typical routine gets adjusted. The same is I know true for most who attend the weekend workshops: we let go of things in order to come along. Attending is a choice. Choice involves sacrifice. And that's worth acknowledging.  The hatha based practice was just what I needed. My body welcomed it. And has reminded me of it since (thanks, Sarah!). Moving before sitting seems to work well for most bodies.  Ajahn Chah's statement makes sense:  If you let go a little, you will ...

I felt like a winner. And the race hadn't even started. I had turned up. And so, I felt justified in claiming a victory. I have not swum competitively since childhood. My sister and I used to clear up at the South London Brownie Girl Guide Swimming Galas. It was all terribly serious.  This morning couldn't have been more different. The competition was not in the adjoining lanes but upstairs - in my own head. Doubt began to creep in the moment I managed (finally) to open the attachment efficiently emailed to me by the Club Captains earlier this week. There appeared my name - down to swim in Races 1, 8 and 11. Three times I met my greatest contender: the nagging doubt. It didn't stand a chance - submerged in 11° it soon dissipated. Biology took over, and I splashed my way across my first width doing an impression of the Butterfly.  I didn't feel like I managed to take flight but I did, somehow, make it across the pool.  The water level must have...

This week served as a good reminded as to why I do what I do. I do what I do because I love it:  It really is as simple as that. On speaking to someone (the thought of whose own exercise regimen makes me wince) I was slightly taken aback when he remarked upon my 'commitment' (in a respectful, slightly concerned manner) in response to my cold water swimming disclosure. I don't swim because I have to...  I'm not 'training' for anything per se.  There are no upcoming events.  I'm not seeking to improve my time.  Or my endurance.   I swim because I love it. The only commitment I have made is to myself:  to do something everyday that makes me smile (whilst shivering). Let yourself be silently drawn by the strange pull of what you really love.   It will not lead you astray.   ~ Rumi

The real privilege of any working week is to find 'flow'.  Flow does not, I think, lend itself to easy description; rather, it has a quality that you can feel, and I am delighted to say that I experience this most pleasant feeling at fairly regular intervals.  A facet of the flow I seek to describe is that sense that you are just exactly where you are meant to be...   On retraining to become a therapist, I'm not sure I was able to imagine what it might feel like to practise as one.  I had, of course, spent a fair bit of time 'in the other chair' (the chair closest to the tissues) but this was to be just the beginning of this wondrous journey.    Nobody can go back and start a new beginning,  but anyone can start today and make a new ending   ~ Maria Robinson In so much of my work I feel connected to my purpose.  I have the luxury of doing work I love.  My work and the way I work are much more than my job.  S...