The Reward is the Journey

There will now follow a brief adjournment.  The last twenty four weeks seem to have flown by.  When looked at as an entity, it has sped past.  Recalling each phase of the journey, the sometimes gruelling terrain is recalled.  Six months ago I came face to face with one of my biggest personal challenges - getting my head around the fact that my closest friend had been diagnosed with the dreaded 'C'.  Healthiness personified, oozing energy and zest for life, appearances had deceived us all.  Treatment commenced rapidly, and it has been a bit of a whirlwind ever since.  Adverse weather conditions are, I have come to understand, best addressed head on, one day at a time... So, eight rounds of chemo now complete, there is a short interlude before surgery.  Options have been outlined, guidance given in abundance and decisions arrived at.  The best way to approach any decision about one's body looks just like the ...

Getting to the pool recently has been something of a luxury.  Swimming once I've made it there has been blissful.  It's permitted reflection aplenty, and most recently, I noticed thinking later that afternoon (for I try to swim at, or shortly before, lunchtime) about the constancy of swimming for me in recent years. It wasn't ever thus.  I returned to the water after a long gap some years ago, after a very difficult and frightening event which prompted several significant life changes, from which I needed to heal.  Intellectually, I knew I didn't want to rely on pharmacotherapy.  Intuitively, I knew that swimming would help.  I have swum ever since.  Up and down.  Down and up.  I've swum when things have been going swimmingly, and I've swum through tough times. "The water is your friend. You don't have to fight with water, just share the same spirit as the water, and it will help you move."  Aleksandr Popov I swim to get ...

My admin is up to date.  Correspondence is replied to.  Bills are paid.  My kitchen has been cleaned.  I have exercised as much as my body will permit.  Treats have been booked.  Carbs are being loaded.  A deadline must be on the horizon... Indeed it is, and approaching fast.  As my tutor reminded me, elephants can be deceptive.  In the distance they look so small, tame and unthreatening.  As they approach and get closer, their true magnitude becomes clearer and more frightening. My priority right now is not to freeze as I survey what is before me.  There is a task to be done, and do it I will.  Fears are best when met head-on.  I am well practised in the art of procrastination, but that phase has now passed.  Now it is time to remind myself of my intentions and original motivations, why I took on this project and what it means to me. The end is in sight....

If you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you; If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, But make allowance for their doubting too: If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies, Or being hated don't give way to hating, And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise; If you can dream - and not make dreams your master; If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim, If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster And treat those two impostors just the same:. If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, And stoop and build'em up with worn-out tools; If you can make one heap of all your winnings And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss, And lose, and start again at your beginnings, And never breathe a word about your loss: If you can force your heart and nerve and sin...

I understand shopping addiction.  I respect the 12 step fellowships composed of individuals afflicted by this secret shame that hides in wardrobes.  To return or not return, that is the question that haunts the mind of a compulsive buyer.  Impulsive purchases, fuelled by something other than a rational decision made with budget in mind, and a nicely balanced equation of want vs. need.  I too appreciate a handbag.  Sitting there, looking longingly at you.  In my right mind, I can pat and move on.  Hungry, angry, lonely or tired and it might be a completely different story.  I have a strategy - avoiding shops at such times.  They spell misery for many.  And it's not only women...  I have worked with as many men who identify this trait.  Buying for buying's sake.  When the instant that they leave the shop, the buzz is over, the high collapsed.  And the torture begins. ...Do I need it?  ...Shall I keep ...

I got back into the saddle on Wednesday.  Having spent 7 long tough hours touring London overnight on Saturday/Sunday, the break was well earned.  Spinning was tough, but it wasn't the workout itself that pushed me further than I'd anticipated but the emotions I connected with as I defied lactic acid and worked to achieve several cardio peaks amongst the hill climbs and flat sprints. My towel came in handy, as I found myself mopping my brow, and dabbing my eyes.  Tears came, more fully later.  I was inspired to buy a bike by her.  I upgraded that bike with her guidance in mind.  She was the first person I called when I realised my trusty Langster had been stolen in Islington.  She encouraged me to put the deposit down on my first roadbike.  And this week she's being feeling crappy. The tail end of chemo has hit hard.  It's no longer nausea that troubles her, but joint ache and fatigue t...

Nudge nudge, wink wink!   A bit of Rumpy Pumpy.  Practising Mattress Dancing.  Doing the Bed Boogie.  Getting stuck into some Nookie.  Going for a horizontal jog.  Visiting the Netherlands.  The birds and the bees.  Call it what you will.  Everyone's at it, but rarely do we talk about it.  Therapy is a safe space in which to talk about experiences, real or imagined, free from judgment or taboo.  No holds barred.  Each and every one of us has a sexual identity.  All too often it is a part of ourselves that we keep hidden.  The therapy room is one of the few environments in which we can explore our desires, our fantasies and our behaviours to see where they converge and identify any sources of discomfort or difficulty.  It is a precious space, in which we can come out of the closet to give a voice to the frequently unspoken, to integrate the all too commonly ignored or sidelined parts of ourselves that if le...

I have come to believe.  Despite my initial concerns, having undertaken several relevant trainings in short term work, I now know it to be highly effective in certain circumstances.  For some individuals, time limited work is the way forward, enabling them to make a concerted effort to bring about the changes they wish to see, and this focused energy in collaboration with directive facilitation can catalyse maximum effectiveness.   Therapy is about having a space to think.  If that space is empty, it can feel unsafe.  Whilst there is a lot to be said for my role as an empty vessel, bringing a blank canvas onto which a client can paint, in short term work I believe it my duty to bring quite a lot into the therapy room, where an agenda is not only useful, it is essential.  A clear plan can make the difference between a series of chats, and a productive therapy in which problems are clearly identified and then addressed.  There is an ocean of diffe...

7 hours in the saddle.  Leaving Alexandra Palace shortly after 01:15 this morning it was hard to know what to expect.  As a small pack of us wound our way down the tight hill the ride began, and we were shortly met with a steep incline somewhere around Muswell Hill.  Warm up complete, and we wove our way through a distinctly sleepy Hampstead, passing through Belsize Park and descending into a very lively Chalk Farm and the chaos of Camden.  Weaving our way through Central London provided a rather surreal and sometimes rather scary experience - as we were setting off on perhaps the longest cycle ride most of us had undertaken, for many the evening was well underway and they were livin' it large out on the town.  Traffic lights plagued us around Baker Street and we were knocked off course for a short detour via Great Portland Street, before deciding against continuing Eastbound down the Marylebone Road.  Spirits were good, which was a b...

The long weekend was high time for a long swim.  I took the plunge on Bank Holiday Tuesday and, whilst I had to contend with crowds of occasional pool dwellers, I enjoyed myself.  I found myself thinking about the stark contrast with my open water swim 10 days earlier. It struck me that for all my many pool sessions, nothing could have prepared me for the cold water.  No YouTube clip, or virtual experience could have made the acclimatisation any simpler.  Until last Saturday I was, quite simply, an open water virgin.  That's all changed now, of course.  I have conquered open water.  I finished my first mile in 00:32:05.  Anticipating the second part of my double fundraiser challenge next weekend, it is abundantly clear that whilst I have been enthusiastically attending Spin classes and building up my time in the saddle out and about in Richmond and around the Home Counties, this is merely preparation.  There is no dress rehea...

A Bank Holiday is always welcome.  A four day weekend is something very special.  London has been jubilant in its celebration of Her Majesty's Diamond Jubilee.  From my humble perspective, it's been extraordinary.  The party atmosphere has been infectious, building in recent weeks and culminating yesterday with crowds of wellwishers lining the riverbanks to see the Royal Pagaent, a modern day Armada.  My own experience was courtesy of the BBC, I was glued to the coverage and enjoyed it to the full.  Some would say I had missed out, having not risen at dawn to queue and secure my spot on the Embankment or in Battersea Park.  I feel no sense of regret.  As someone who spends very little time watching television, the occasion merited a marathon viewing episode I enjoyed from start to finish.  Nothing could dampen the nation's spirits yesterday and it was a tremendous spectacle to witness.