The Reward is the Journey

I went without expectations. It was my first première... The excitement awaited me. Outside the cinema a long queue had formed. They certainly were dressed to impress.  I was impressed (by some more than others). The start time was optimistic. But the feature was well worth waiting for... This incredible film about finding a way to overcome the most difficult obstacles life throws at us, has lived the tale it tells: it was made on a shoestring, and lack of funds meant it couldn't be filmed all in one go, it had to be filmed in blocks.  'The Journey' is a spiritual story about how we, as human beings, move forward when the very things that keep us going are taken away. The movie's themes spoke so clearly to me. It is about loss, and how we come to terms with the most difficult of our emotions. It is about the journeys we must take, in order to make the journeys we are forced to take. Physical journeys. Emotional journeys. From grief, t...

Years ago I went along to a meeting held in a small community hall, to find out how to stop someone I loved from drinking.  Years later I am still to be found in such meetings.  My mission proved fruitless, but I stayed and learnt some invaluable lessons for life. Addiction is indeed cunning and baffling.  It is also chronic, and progressive.  It is pernicious and insidious.  And it destroys far more than the afflicted individual.  It wreaks havoc with anyone who cares.  And those who are forced to stand by and watch those they love fall foul of addiction's grasping stifling tentacles can suffer worse than the individual who self-medicate in a self-defeating other-injuring attempt to manage.   I am powerless over anyone else's self-harming behaviour.  I know that now.  But knowing is not always enough.  For I am forgetful, and old habits die hard.  Which is why I need to be reminded.  There will always be a tempta...

She was, of course, right...   The weekend had been a long one.  We had kept busy and maintained a momentum I had not previously thought possible.  We worked long, and we worked hard.  There was much to be done.  And a deadline to meet.  Which we did. We had, I think, put off sorting through and boxing up these items until we had to.  Whilst they remained there, it was still a home.  Unoccupied perhaps, but a home nonetheless.  Their symbolism hit me powerfully as we locked the door for the last time, leaving only a note in the now clinically empty space to welcome the new owners behind us. As my mother's (now former) nextdoor neighbour said, it is the end of an era. The end of an era marks the beginning of another...

I felt inside my (oversized) handbag.  There is was.  Smooth and cool.   My iPod was there, but the earphones weren't.  Somehow, it doesn't seem to matter how large the bag is:  I still manage to forget something.   I sat down (with a disgruntled sigh), and became aware of the interaction between a mother and her daughter now beside me on the platform. They, like I, had descended the escalator just a moment too late to catch the train and watched it hurry northbound into a tunnel.  The little girl looked perturbed...   "Not to worry.   It doesn't matter.   It's not worth getting upset about.   There'll be another along soon.   You'll see." - her mother said calmly. I was mesmerised by the child's curiosity provoked by the novelty the scenario presented and, just for a moment, transported beyond my been-here-a-million-times-when-will-I-learn (this particular lesson: that from ticket gate to pl...

I don't think I had realised how much in need of this break I was.  To realise something is to recognise it.  So, for whatever reason (and there are probably a few of those) I had avoided seeing it.  I developed an aptitude for 'ostrich-ing' some time ago.  I've come a long way, but it's still progress rather than perfection! The last two days have been so deeply nourishing for mind, body and soul.  I have walked, and walked, and walked.  I could not stay in bed.  The waves called, and the sunshine beckoned.  I set off shortly after 7:30, and headed up the coast.  I almost had the beach to myself.  I encountered only a couple of joggers, one or two people making their way to work (what a commute!) someone busy with a metal detector, and someone else attending a poised fishing rod.   I cannot remember the last time I walked barefoot on a beach.  It was heavenly.  Not too hot.  Certainly not too cold.  The t...

It occurred to me whilst sitting in the departures lounge how very strange most of us looked as we prepared to board... Families, going on long awaited, and presumably much needed breaks, looking frantic and stressed.  Those travelling on business mostly looking mildly irritated that, like the rest of us, they would not be turning left as they got onto the aircraft.  I felt like a 'fly on the wall', quietly sitting there, observing this extraordinary scene.   It's half term.  There are likely 400+ of us getting ready to spend nine and a half hours together.  We will, all of a sudden, be sharing a space and the oxygen within it as we cruise at 35,000ft.  Yet, beyond the members of our immediate party, we are unlikely to know another's name at the end of the flight.  On thinking about it, this strikes me as peculiarly strange.  We are, for the time that we are airborne, a community, and yet few beyond the cabin crew perhaps are thinking alo...

A recent visit to see my mother went surprisingly well.  Such occasions have become rare, and for these happier times I am most grateful.  The afternoon was shared with a couple of dear friends, whom she has known for over 30 years.  The impact of their presence cannot be overstated and, if I have learnt anything of late, it has been to bring along with me the past, and leave behind any reference to the present.   They having not seen Mum for several years, I spent the our journey there pre-warning them both as to what we might find and who might, or might not, meet us as we arrived.  I am getting better at expecting the unexpected.  Or, perhaps more accurately, I have been forced to adjust by expecting very little of my visits.  I am not, nor do I wish to ever be, a gambler, but I now know the odds involved and have worked out that, these days, they're rarely in my favour.   As it happened, that afternoon she could not have been on bette...

The Introduction to Mindfulness courses I run continue to attract the attention of diverse groups looking to explore the benefits they might derive from mindfulness meditation.  I am currently teaching the fourth 4 week course I have taught this year and have thoroughly enjoyed the journey thus far.   The first half of any course often feels like an uphill struggle for those coming to mindfulness for the first time.  Those I teach are commonly struck by the effort involved in placing attention on a particular object, and sustaining that attention.  Whilst intention is rarely lacking, mindfulness is not often something people experience as easy. But it is reasonably straight forward.  The discussions that follow the practices reveal several key themes that run throughout the programme and by the time we approach the middle of the course, many of these feel familiar.  The basic vocabulary has been mastered, and the understanding begins to deepen. ...

It has been a strange few weeks.   This week, I was struck by the contrasts I have experienced of late. Autumn presents a choice for this swimmer.  To swim outdoors, or to retreat indoors? I have preferred to swim indoors recently.  And it's not, I think, because of the relatively cooler temperatures.   It is the sense of safety that the indoor pool offers me.  The known.  The familiar.  The lane ropes are comforting rather than confining.  I can choose my course and stick to it without difficulty.  Right now, great satisfaction is mine in the pool.  The water warm.  Sometimes a little too warm.  The lengths add up, and I swim for several kilometres.  I explore the line between effort and ease, and quickly find my way into the latter.   Elsewhere, I have found myself entering alien environments.  I have visited the hospital ward on which my mother has lain with hideous trepidation. ...

I am privileged to work with a great many HEIs - Highly Effective Individuals.  I am frequently astounded by just how much we, between us, manage to achieve in any given day or week.  I am concerned by how infrequently we step back and take stock of exactly how much we are doing, or how well we are doing it.   It is perhaps symptomatic of the fast paced world we occupy.  Life seems to be set on fast forward and we, as a result, are constantly chasing to keep up.   Too many people undervalue what they are, and overvalue what they are not. Malcolm Forbes Think about it, for a minute.  What have you done today?  Break it down - what, exactly have you done?   It is only when we are prevented from getting on with 'the business', by illness or injury, for example, that we notice how much it is that we ordinarily get done, and how we take it for granted that we can set out to complete a set of tasks and, circumstances permittin...

I wouldn't wish this particular chapter of the journey to anyone.  Having entered into previously unknown territory, my eyes have adjusted to the dusky conditions, and I am learning more each day.  The landscape of dementia is anything but pleasant.    It is everything I feared it would be, and a whole lot more besides.  I find myself uncomfortably perched in limbo.  I see a corridor of doors ahead, but have come to realise that many of them are illusions.  It is as though I am surrounded by mirrors.  I am horrified by the awful reflection I have beheld a hundred times.   Chasing the diagnosis which seems ever more elusive, I have had no choice but acknowledge how cunning a villain this illness is.  A cluster of symptoms that leave you guessing whilst facets of the character of the person you love fade to become a little dimmer each week. It is as though the lights that once shone bright are now an intermittent twinkle. ...

I have a new friend.  I adopted her a few weeks' ago.  Her face jumped out when I looked, for the first time, at the charity's 'rehoming' pages over the Bank Holiday weekend. It was, I think, love at first sight.  For me, at least. I had travelled the 30 mile journey with more than a little ambivalence.  Was now the right time for me to be assuming another commitment?   Sometimes, things happen.  Life is what happens when you're busy making other plans.   Thing is, relationships don't just turn up when you're looking for them.  Sometimes, cats come into your life when you least expect them to. She is not what I had in mind, but then some of the most rewarding connections I've made to date have been with individuals I couldn't have foreseen having much in common with.   I vacillated over the decision, weighing it up and canvassing opinion from trusted friends (most of whom were, as they would freely confess, unduly bi...

My Amazon account tells a story.  I'm in over my head.  And so I order books.  I am grasping to understand.  For, through understanding, I hope I will come to accept.   Acceptance is a live project for me right now.  I'm trying to walk the walk.  And this particular road seems all too often cruelly uneven.     "Yoga teaches us to cure what need not be endured, and to endure what cannot be cured."   B. K. S Iyengar (1918-2014)     Amidst my reading, I have been trying to breathe.  Breathing into stretches, seeking out the 'yield' the DVD's accompanying audio repeatedly refers to.  For this, apparently, is where it's at.   This is the 'yin' of yoga.  It's slow.  And it gets stuck.  30seconds...  90seconds...  4 minutes.  And rel-ease.    *SIGH*   It seems apt for me just now.  My focus has shifted.  The rules of this game r...

Deep within that hollow stare, of our presence they're unaware. A life that is fading away, in spite of things we try to convey. Memories locked up in their mind, and there they're kept all confined. Good times spent long ago, and all their love they did bestow. For these moments will live forever, Seeing them lying there we know why, Dementia is called the long goodbye.      The cards, we hoped, would serve as something of a memory jog.  We asked staff for some string and were granted our wish, meaning we could hang them as you might (and indeed, we might do) Christmas cards.  She seemed happy enough.    Whatever that means.  It is, I think, perhaps easier to get angry than feel the sadness that this sorry situation entails.  And I have been furious.    I'm angry that I've lost her:  I've lost my mother.  What I'm left with is a shell.  And one I don't yet know how to relate to. ...

It was, quite simply, perfect.   Just, precisely, what I needed.   I was so pleased to make it to the 'Slow Down' yoga workshop at the end of the working week.  A rare opportunity to properly mark the transition between Friday and Saturday.  To honour it, in fact.   It was a terrific way to unwind, and allow my mind and body to get back in sync with one another.    All too often one is ahead of the other.  The body is tired, but the mind remains wired.  It is far harder to really, truly relax than many of us realise.    Graham gently reminded us of the reality of chronic overstimulation and the impact that this has.  He described what I already knew to be the case:  not from the headspace, but from deep within my body.  Between my shoulders, and around the base of my skull.  Tightness and tension.  Holding.  On to what?    Relaxation is a challenge for most of us...

    This is, I think, a particularly taxing leg of the journey and one that I have struggled to enjoy having found it so relentlessly demanding.  Stretching on every level.    I have learnt much.  All of it along the way.    Never did I envisage a task so massive.  Or complex.  Or convoluted.    My advice to anyone is simple:  Think about things in advance.  But do not assume that prior planning will save you hassle as, when it comes down to it, there is still the same amount of red tape to navigate your way through.    The first step of the process is arduous in that it requires a solicitor to confirm that the 'donor' still has capacity to make the decision authorising someone to act on their behalf if, or when this should change.    The Office of the Public Guardian has a significant backlog.  There is no hurrying the powers that are.  They simply cannot be ...

Thought for the Day on Radio 4 is one of my morning pleasures.  I will often catch-up if I miss one, or listen again, as I did to Brian Draper's recent thought, on work-life balance and the importance of recreation.  He asked a question that quite often comes up in workplace counselling, is the way you're working, working for you?   I regularly assess individuals for whom work has become a serious battle.  It's not necessarily conflict in the workplace, but the stress and strain that they find themselves taking home each day and remaining connected to, even at the weekend.   All too often I find myself having discussions with clients about the 'performance recipe':  where challenge must have an equal counterpart of support, else most people will (at some point) likely buckle under the pressure.   The territory of stress and burnout are very often avoidable, but awareness is rarely enough.  Action is essential, if stress is to be taken...