The Reward is the Journey

The exhilaration I feel when out and about on two wheels is hard to describe without sounding gushy.  At times, I fear I may even sound evangelical.  That said, I'm going to risk gushing evangelically and share (yet) another bicycling anecdote... I did not conceal my excitement at being invited to take to the roads of Kent on a Sunday morning. The autumn sunshine greeted us.  Whilst it couldn't be described as warm, our meeting point coffees certainly were.  We were off to a good start before we left. The roads were pleasantly quiet, save for a few hurried drivers (presumably making their way to morning service).  I knew not the route ahead of us, but was given ample warning of the sticky climbs and one 'rather naff' descent. For all my evangelising, the only action this bike has seen in over two years has been to be moved from one hallway to stand wistfully in a sitting room - only to return, rather unceremoniously, to inhabit another dra...

I was delighted to be asked to prepare and deliver a 'taster' of mindfulness at a recent Family Forum hosted by the charity Missing People. If we can deeply understand the power of the mind;  how we can both injure and benefit this world, we see how practice is not a luxury, but an imperative.   It returns us to ourselves, to our sanity, to our true capacity. Geoffrey Shugen Arnold I have yet to attend an event organised by Missing People from which I depart feeling anything other than very deeply moved.  Being in the presence of those left behind when a loved one has disappeared is a difficult pleasure.   It is difficult in that it challenges me from the inside out.  Despite having been heavily involved in the development of the work the organisation does with families of missing persons in recent years, I have yet to develop any immunity from the shock that reverberates somewhere deep within me, as I contemplate what it means to f...

Another swim inspired post...  Swimming:  it shifts my mood like nothing else.  And only for the better.  It is the best mood enhancer I know.  I have resolved to continue swimming outdoors as long as possible.  I am still without wetsuit.  Much to the confusion and concern of those that never remove theirs.  Mine, I have decided, is to be kept for when the temperature drops to single figures.  It was a lovely 13.5° today.  Fresh, but not yet cold.  The sunshine helps. Sunshine always helps.  But, from the water, there is so much more sky to behold.  It is the expansive sky that shifts and lifts my mood, and allows my soul to soar.   Staying indoors when I could be in the pool achieves very little.  Opportunity presents itself, and asks to be taken.  Hence the renewed resolve.  Bring on the cooler weather, the leaves, and the endorphins!  You may be whatever you res...

It was quite the highlight of my weekend.  I had been looking forward to the evening since Charlotte booked our tickets.  I wasn't sure what to expect.  So I expected nothing, and looked forward with tremendous anticipation nonetheless.  Expectations are rarely helpful. The performance was like nothing I have seen before.  It was beautiful.  It was harrowing.  It made me think.  It forced me to feel.  It challenged me.  It humbled me.  It reminded me what a privilege it is to be alive.   Their wonderful show was about difference.  And it was about commonality.  There in front of us were a cast united in their mission.  They entertained us.  But they did so much more besides.  They invited us to look beyond physical ability.  And there it was.  Talent in abundance. Each one of us is so much more than a physical being.  And that was what I was reminded of by Amici.  In t...

I felt a pang of guilt as I turned my back on her and left home today.  Off we went, me and my new love.  Three and a half years ago, I blogged about getting out and about on my trusty single speed. She has been a stalwart.  And yet, I came to the decision not so long ago, that it was time for a change.  She has not been replaced.  But today she was substituted.  It's good to mix it up...  Right? Someone once asked me whether I knew the answer to the all important question.  The question that plagues the mind of an enthusiast contemplating an expansion of the collection.  How many bikes does one need?  The answer is, of course, N+1. I am the proud owner of a(nother) pair of wheels that truly suit my commute.  I have joined the Fold.  I have become a Bromptonite. Bigger is not necessarily better.  My new wheels fill me with joy.  I cannot remember enjoying my journey to or from work as much on any...

I have flirted with many.  I have dipped my toe in, and tested them for size.  But this weekend, I met my match. I have, I think, found a style of yoga that really speaks to me.  And, even better, I have found my tribe.  I spent this weekend, surrounded by others who speak my language:  Ours is the language of xi, fascia, meridians and Sanskrit.   Yin prioritises function over aesthetics.  It is about the HOW rather than the WHAT.  And this is why I have fallen in love.   I am never going to be super bendy.  I have plenty of strength, and whilst I will, if I continue to practice regularly, develop greater flexibility I need to acknowledge my mechanical limitations.  These are non-negotiable.  They are, after all, part of my genetic inheritance:  I was not born to bendy folk.   But within those limitations, I can still achieve a perfect practice.  For this is where the subtle but all important...

I am a meditator.  My meditation practice grows with me.  My meditation today will not be the same as my meditation yesterday.  And tomorrow it will be different, again. As long as we live, we should keep learning how to live.  So said Seneca.  I'm inclined to agree.   It is the greatest privilege of being human to truly meet ourselves.  It is also probably the greatest challenge.  It is, I believe, the journey of a lifetime. We all of us face the same questions:  Who am I?  Why am I here?  What's all this about? Some of us ponder these more consciously than others.  But, when we slow down and stop, this is what comes to stare all of us in the face, sooner or later... And this is where it gets tricky.  This is what it is to be human.  To be fragile.  To be vulnerable.  To be unclear.  To be unsure. We do not do well in uncertainty.  And yet we live in the deepest uncertaint...

I had wanted to see it since I learnt that Asif Kapadia's documentary was in production.  The sad story of a life cut tragically short and a voice that the world was to be blessed with for only a fraction of the time it could, and possibly should have been. And what a voice it was.  Amy Winehouse's talent was undeniable.   With just two albums to her name, the girl with a petite frame made a huge mark on British music history. Her story was told beautifully.  Silently.  The footage spoke for itself and needed.  She needed no introduction.  And a narrator was not needed for the tragedy that unfolded before our eyes.   The question that loomed for me as I watched as the few chapters into which her life might be divided was, did she ever really stand a chance?  She died of heart failure.  She died, I came to understand, of the broken heart she'd been writing about her whole career. To watch a film such as this, ...

It was a most peculiar sensation. On getting out of the water, exiting the pool using the gently graduated steps, to re occupy my body and meet gravity. The transition was, just for a few moments, unmistakable and impossible to ignore. One moment, my body had felt weightless. The next, I met myself, and my (healthy) weight once more... Physics was never my strong point. But I've spent enough time in the water, to have gleaned a few nuggets. Whilst the electromagnetic spectrum and I never gotten to be chums, buoyancy is something of a dear friend, and one I try to connect with as much as possible... What neither myself nor my swimming student could quite believe was the degree of weightlessness we had just been enjoying, without even realising it.  I recognise now a little better why it is that sometimes when I swim, I feel as though I'm flying:  Buoyancy, or upthrust, is described as the force on a body when displaced in a volume of fluid and is in t...

Sybille is a terrific yoga teacher.  I was terrifically pleased to have booked to attend her workshop.  It really was a terrific place for me to be.   My hips and hamstrings always benefit from some focused attention.  All too often I forget how much gets held onto in this region of the body.   Sybille gently helped me to remember the importance of finding space in the stillness.  By bringing my body into stillness, I am able to find the space between thoughts.  

I don't watch much television.  I watch only that which comes highly recommended by those whose opinions I have come to trust.  The first episode of 'The Outcast' had caused something of a stir amongst colleagues with whom I have been exploring the implications of Attachment Theory as a lens through which to look at our work in the therapy room. The BBC's two part dramatisation of Sadie Thomas' novel didn't disappoint.  Easy viewing it was not, but it held my attention in a way so many things that are apt to come onto our screens fail to. It was a beautifully observed tale of a young man whose destiny is largely determined by the appalling tragedy he suffers as a 10 year old the effects of which are barely acknowledged and certainly not ameliorated by his father whom we know to be grief stricken (and likely suffering from undiagnosed PTSD) but in whose demeanour it is impossible to detect even a shred of emotion. In the scenes that follow the horrif...

There are very few people I would agree to meet in a park super early on a Sunday morning. Charlotte is one of them.  The appointed hour was 07:30.  The venue Richmond Park. The pleasure was all mine... Chemo complete and steroids finally out of the drug cocktail, Charlotte has been back on two wheels for 5 weeks.  And, on Sunday morning, was to be found racing on a tandem! 10.4 miles in under 30 minutes.   Oozing with pride does not do justice to how I felt on meeting Charlotte post-race back at Pen Ponds. Time trialing is something I don't even aspire to.  But for a cyclist so talented as she who I am privileged to call my best friend, the message to cancer is clear:  you can take the girl out of cycling, but you can't take cycling out of the girl.

I was reminded once again how easy it is to let go of a habit. Not because you're trying to change it, but because your routine changes. My routines are the foundations of those habits I seek to promote.  Time is precious.  And mine, like most other people's, is limited.  Which is why, if I want to do something, I have to find the time to do it in. Which is where my diary comes in.  If it's in the diary, the chances it will actually happen are far higher.  And that's due to the simple fact that, for something to appear in the diary, it means that time has been allocated. When our routines stop, no matter how briefly, significant change can result.  Which may be good.  Or, in the case of my yoga practice, less good...  I find myself feeling stiffer:  physically, and psychologically. It is time to re-start, and re-acquaint with my mat.  And the first step is to let go of any frustration associated with the fact that I ...

Saying goodbye is, I have learnt, not an event but a process.  It cannot be rushed, and happens in a timescale that cannot be controlled.  We let go of anything, only when we are entirely ready.  Saying goodbye is no different.   I have, I realise, been saying goodbye in waves.  I have gone through several important phases:  each of them non negotiable.  Indescribable, intangible, every one has been inescapable.  I have endured the sense of loss imprinted on me, in a way I see now I carry far more easily. Until we are able to wear our loss, we are incapable of shedding it.  We shed loss only when we are ready to be without it.  By which time it has carried us, and transformed us.  We are ready to move forward.  We may, once again, live on.   You can shed tears that she is gone or you can smile because she has lived. You can close your eyes and pray that she’ll come back or you can open your eyes...

I have, I know, written previously about my relationship with travel.  It need not be all that far but there is, for me, something very important about going away. Most of us operate within routines.  We may do so more or less knowingly.  We are, I'm afraid, creatures of habit.   Our habits and routines keep us safe.  They help us to manage.  But, every so often, we must break out from the structures we impose upon ourselves.  If only to re assess and re evaluate their value and utility. Taking stock is something I prioritise.  For me, this entails coming out of my usual environment and pausing my routine.  This enables me to see more readily what it is that I am stepping aside from. 'They' say a change is as good as a rest.  The best changes I have implemented are those I have conceived of from a rested place.  Rest is not a state that can necessarily be achieved amidst the hustle and bustle, the comings and go...

To learn how to teach is to re learn completely, and entirely.   You must first forget what you have assumed and let go of all that you think you understand.   To ask the right question you need to reconsider where it is that you stand.   As only from the correct angle, will your perspective show you that which you must surely grasp. A beginner's mind is a pre requisite... Just as one can compose colours, or forms,  so one can compose motions. Alexander Calder I am delighted to be spending time thinking about how best to share my passion and pass on to others the skills I have been lucky enough to develop.   Swimming is to me far more than an activity that keeps me fit.  To swim is to feel alive, and well.  For it is in the water that I feel best able to bring mind and body together.     I use the water to alter my mind, and swimming to enhance my mood.  It is, through movement in the wate...

I stood there for what felt like ages.  The length of the pool stretched out in front of me, seemingly without end.   "Why am I here at 6pm on a Bank Holiday?" is not a question you should ask yourself whilst standing at the shallow end.   There are some things that it is really better not to think too much about.  Like taking the plunge into water that you know will be so cold it will bite and swimming those first two lengths whilst you acclimatise. It felt cold.  Too cold.  The pool suddenly felt too long.  The other end too far away.   Sometimes it really is best just to get on with it.  Starting is always the hardest part.

My physio appointments are about far, far, more than my physiological wellbeing.  Whilst important to attend to the aches that I am increasingly conscious of (the perils of age?), my fortnightly appointment treats body and mind. Mindfulness meditation has been the tool that I have used to sharpen my awareness, and I have for some time now held only very loosely the concept of any duality between mind and body.  The approach of my preferred practitioner resonates very closely with the understanding I hold when I seek to look after my body-in-mind.   I seek to look after the housing, acknowledging the toll that everyday life exerts on my body.  The treatment enables me to reconnect with my physical self.  It is more than maintenance:  it prevents injury and promotes repair.  Time spent in my body in this way gives my mind real time out.   Take care of your body.  It's the only place you have to live. Jim Rohn Do ...

As another month passes, I notice how my mind seeks to organise itself around the grief I will doubtless remain conscious of for a long time yet. It comes and goes, ebbing and flowing. Arising sometimes predictably and at other times, quite without warning. These days, it is a gentle sadness. A recognition that she is no longer. That we will never again greet one another in that old, familiar way.  Life, of course, continues. Change envelops me. And my mind does its best to keep up. My mind, I can now see, is working over time to ensure I stay alive - not in the physical sense, but at an emotional level. My mind is capable of keeping me on track and does this by organising my thoughts now that the shock has subsided and I adjust to the reality of my loss. I no longer think about her morning, noon and night. I recall memories at will, and am pleased to do so. They give me comfort. I am haunted no more. The way the mind manages grief over time means that w...