The Reward is the Journey

It has been a privilege to engage with the families of missing people through the workshops I have been delivering on behalf of the Charity.  It has been a pleasure to get out of London.  It reminds me that whilst I love living in the big smoke, I also adore getting out.  I feel myself expanding, and breathing more deeply when surrounded by trees and fields.  I remember speaking to a friend who spent several winters abroad, working in ski resorts.  She was troubled by the landscape, and I struggled to understand her complaint.  She spoke of missing the sky.    I now appreciate what it is that she was referring to.  In some respects a ski resort has more in common with a big city than one might immediately recognise.  The mountains protrude and dominate, crowding the horizon.  Escaping to North Somerset recently, this conversation which took place at altitude some time ago returned to me - I derive enorm...

In spite of the weather, for me this time of year always holds a spring like quality.  There's something about fresh starts arising from my affinity with the academic calendar and the rhythm of the year within the year.  September has, for as long as I can remember, represented the beginning of a new year - albeit three quarters through the calendar year.  This year is no exception, and I have embarked upon a new programme of study necessitating pre course reading, discovering a previously unknown corner of London and meeting new colleagues in the classroom setting.     "As long as you live, keep learning how to live" Seneca   As an adult learner, groups today feel both exciting and still daunting.  First impressions, expectations, comparisons, assumptions.  I am looking forward to the year ahead, but am under no illusions.  I have the dates in my diary, I now have responsibilities - to myself, and to others....

I imagine the September evening light to be something of a photographer's delight.  So I imagined yesterday whilst sitting in my therapy room, writing my notes whereupon I noticed the difference a floor makes.  Just a few stairs perhaps, but a very different view.  Viewpoints are important.  I was reminded of that this afternoon whilst beginning to re-think the different arguments on the aetiology of sexuality.  Essentialist (nature:  I was born this way), developmental (nurture:  something happened, cause and effect) and social constructionist:  does it matter anyway, and why it might.      "Everything we hear is an opinion, not a fact. Everything we see is a perspective, not the truth." Marcus Aurelius   As I sit opposite my client (or clients) we literally sit with opposing views.  Physically we have different perspectives on the world outside.  I face looking in one direction, and they may...

Friends come and go but to a few you should hold on...  She is one such friend.  I let go, but hopefully we might be able to move on from the rather lengthy interlude that our friendship has seen, and apparently survived.  I feel blessed to have had an opportunity to offer a sincere amend, but know all too well that words carry far less value than actions, and intend to now live my amend.  Time has passed, and we have both grown, but time will tell whether we can overcome the distance that has arisen in the gap.    Friendship is precious though not always easy.  The best friendships are perhaps those that do weather a few storms, and whilst I wouldn't have chosen the particular variety of weather conditions ours has endured, the foundations have been exposed highlighting their strength and resilience.  We all of us have choices.  As adults, we have rights and inherent within those, responsibilities.  Today I recognise...

  My enthusiasm knows no bounds.  I found myself expressing interest in something before I had a clue what it is that I was committing myself to!  I'm in safe hands.  I know that.  I also know I can get off if I need to (or, if I find out half way up the incline that I haven't yet got the right cassette).    How could I not join in?  It's a mission wholly inspired by Charlotte and her recovery, and all in aid of Breast Cancer Care.  Besides which, it will be fun.  I have limited experience of climbing, and can claim to be nothing but an amateur.  But I find a challenge alluring and determination is something of a middle name.    This will be a challenge.  We will rise early, to meet at the Cafe from where we will set off and fire up our legs before reaching the two ascents.  My naivety amused me.  "Catford" I thought...  I couldn't call to mind any particularly sharp inclines.  YouTube...

A lot, actually.  Our name is often something we have little say over.  Expectant parents employ all sorts of strategies to arrive at a name that feels 'right', doing so very often before they've so much as met their infant.  Name books may be bought, family trees poured over, trends reviewed and friends consulted.  A short list is compiled.  The big day comes.  Waters break, labour concludes and baby arrives in the world...     ...Moments later the presiding doctor makes a call that for many will be unproblematic.  As baby takes its first few breaths post partem, "Congratulations, you have a beautiful baby boy!"  Or... "what a gorgeous little girl!"  From hereon in, baby's gender is decided, and with it a future.  Whilst the baby palette is perhaps now broader than the traditional pink-for-a-girl and blue-for-a-boy, there remain countless assumptions and expectations made on the basis of gender.  ...

I've been around a few days.  Recovery has taught me more than I can hope to retain.  I need to be regularly reminded.  What I know, and what I understand are two different things.  Knowledge alone isn't much use.  Wisdom is something else altogether.  If someone asked me what wisdom looked like, I wouldn't have a clue; but I know what it feels like.  Wisdom is practising the principles in all my affairs.     Including swimming.  Yesterday, I took the plunge and went along to a Club training session.  I dipped in to this a while ago, encouraged (indeed collected and taken to) by a friend whom has, I know, continued to attend.  Getting to the pool is something I needed to do for myself.  Whilst I have been happily doing my own thing, I have been itching to stretch myself, and step up to the challenge I knew a coach would present.    It was touch and go.  As I stood on the...

  In an ideal world, I'd live in a climate warm enough to swim outdoors all year round.  As it is, I live in South West London.  That being so, I have been spoilt.  The pool in which I train most often has a great amount of natural light, courtesy of the enormous glass roof.  It's a real joy.  It's almost as good as swimming in the open air.  A close second, and somewhat more practical for swimming 12 months of the year.  Besides which, it's single depth and has two ends (pools such as that to be found in Richmond's Old Deer Park, with a series of steps at the shallow end, whilst tempting to get into, prove hard to stay in for very long as turning is near impossible!)  I like my pool.  I also like exploring others.  As something of a pool nerd, I investigate swimming venues.  I subscribe to more than one online swimming magazine, read blogs written by fellow water babies, and dream of having my own pool...

This is England.  Having a picnic on a village green, in front of a pond complete with ducks, geese (and a few mice) was a lovely, and somewhat unexpected treat this weekend.  Only a week ago, I schlepped to Glasgow and back, an exhausting if rewarding Saturday - the contrast struck me this afternoon.  I am so glad that my present work tends not to involve long distance travel.  Whilst Swiss Cottage has, at times, felt like the other end of the earth, the reality is that sitting on planes and trains is less than usual in my ordinary routine which does not often take me into airport lounges.  Thank goodness.  Walking through Terminal 5 late on Saturday night I realised how disorientating airports are.  One could be forgiven for having no clue as to the time of day, or the local climate, whilst in an environment that for me, felt utterly alien.  The glitz of Duty Free, and the overpriced food franchises lack appeal, but it ...

  The Cadogan Hall was an ideal destination during the Sunday downpour over the Bank Holiday weekend.  The RPO were accompanied by a fabulous cast lead by Ruthie Henshall for a brilliant production of Guys and Dolls which struck me as being both cute but still relevant, speaking to a variety of contemporary issues.    The award winning show's plot was derived from several stories by Damon Runyon depicting the lives of gangsters, gamblers, and other characters of the New York underworld.  Having originally premiered on Broadway in 1950 it was an immediate hit and the original show ran for 1200 performances.  It was later adapted as a film starring Marlon Brando, Jean Simmons and Frank Sinatra.      The musical opens to transport the audience into the hustle and bustle of New York City where we meet three small-time gamblers who are arguing over which horse will win a big race.  Mea...

My work doesn't generally involve too much travel outside of London and the home counties.  I'd not previously flown for work.  I'd not been to Glasgow before this weekend.  I've still not really been to Glasgow.  I have however been to Pollok House.  The beautiful National Trust for Scotland property set in wonderful gardens and parkland made a fitting venue for the workshop I delivered on behalf of the charity Missing People on Saturday afternoon.  Working with the families of missing people is a privilege.  Meeting them and working face to face in a group setting is a particular privilege, and I left Glasgow on Saturday evening feeling both honoured and humbled by the events of my long day.  It was my first time meeting the individuals who participated and for many of them, the first time they had met another family affected by this harrowing issue.  Whilst their stories were often very different, the situations in which they found the...