The Reward is the Journey

I am one of the most highly trained therapists I know.  Yes, you did read that correctly.  I do not claim to be the best therapist, but I know very well how well trained I have been.  And continue to be.  See for me, my training did not end when I qualified in 2008.  Rather that was when my training began.   We all of us (therapists) train on the job.  It is a prerequisite in the field.  You learn as you work, and you work as you learn.  The learning cannot be separated from the working, though your work is protected through clinical supervision and by the ethical framework(s) to which you subscribe.   I will, I think, always be learning.  I live to learn, and learn to live.  The day I stop learning will, I hope, be the day I die.  Or at least retire.  Doing this work, I would be useless, if not dangerous, were I not constantly inspired and motivated to deepen that which I believe I know and that which I ...

I remember well my first kitchen.  Not the one within which my mother cooked for my sister and I, but my kitchen.  It was, I recall, reasonably well equipped.  Everything one needed had its own place.  All neat and tidy, and matching.  I can't recall how anything smelt, or tasted, but it all looked pretty good.   These days I don't derive quite the same pleasure from the ordinary business of day to day housekeeping.  In truth, probably too little time is spent 'keeping house'.  But this is more to do with the schedule of activities that take me beyond the front door, than sheer dislike.   I don't, in fact, dislike many of the activities that sometimes get very bad press.  And this was what got me thinking about what it is, that I have come to appreciate about the apparently mundane.  After all, it is the day to day that we find ourselves doing most days.  It is rare for me to spend extended periods of time in cate...

Once upon a time I used to enjoy singing Magnificat - now I ride them.  Well, I rode all over this one!  Charlotte says I'm training hard.  And I reckon she knows a thing or two about training.  When the going got tough (which it did at a number of points along the way) I reminded myself of this - "shut up legs, you're in training!" The forecast for blistering heat (and more reliable recent conditions) did not deter me from a seriously early start to get down to Newbury and join the throng.  Over 2,000 likeminded cyclists - all of us, out of our minds.   During the 82 mile circuit I found myself pondering a great many things, navigating some demanding South facing hills with the sun beating down on myself and my companions...  It occurred to me, as it has in the past, that there are a great many lessons to be learnt from the saddle, applicable elsewhere. Make no assumptions.  One may have been taught that what goes up must come down. ...

My two most recent swims have not been the most successful.  The lido was packed on Sunday.  Even at 9am.  We thought we'd get up early, and beat the crowd.  We could not have imagined the scene that awaited our arrival.  There we were, all keen, and wetsuit free.  And there was everyone else, sun lotion at the ready and towels aplenty. The lanes were busy.  And lacking in decorum.  There was nothing to choose between:  The fast lane was slow.  The slow lane was treading water.  We gave it our best shot.  And Charlotte's shot was far more poised than my own.  She managed to get in, and get on, finding a rhythm and taking it all in her 'stroke'.   My stroke suffered.  I couldn't breathe.  I found a like-mind who was equally disappointed (but far more determined than I to get her 2k in, to ensure she didn't regret the wasted journey later in the day when she had a friend's leaving BBQ to attend...

Wat Buddhapapida in Wimbledon the first Buddhist Temple in the UK It came as little, if any, surprise to me to hear that Djokovic, whom even after his defeat yesterday is still ranked No. 1 in the World, took time out during the Championship and found a Buddhist temple in SW19 the perfect place to do so.   Born a week apart Murray and Djokovic met on the court as eleven year olds He and Murray met as Juniors and their superpower rivalry is relatively new in comparison to their longstanding friendship.  They have had four head to head contests in Grand Slam finals, at which they have each picked up two trophies.  Djokovic has yet to beat Murray on the green grass at Wimbledon. Both players have revealed their 'secrets'.  Both know how important it is to truly relax, in order to maximise their focus during their long matches which demand as much psychological stamina as athletic brilliance.   But whilst their game strategy might confuse those ...

Something of a documentary.  Based on apparently true(ish) events portrayed in the media; a controversy that centred upon the series of high profile burglaries at the luxurious piles of realty (rather than reality) dotted around the hills of Hollywood. 'Let's go shopping!' takes on a whole new meaning.  They shopped, but before they did so, they robbed.  We see the co-conspirators up the ante until they can up it no more.  But by then they have broken into the home of every celebrity they've ever obsessed about. This is a film all about obsession.  If you look carefully enough you can see it there, lurking in the shadows.  It drives the most outrageously antisocial behaviour.  It masquerades as age appropriate rebellion, but these girls are not your average run-of-the-mill Valley girls.  This is a different breed altogether.  This is the special and different brigade. The clues are there for the discerning.  There is a d...

The infamous 'Long One' super sportive was precisely that: Quite long. At 81 miles it is something of an achievement for my legs, which are doing remarkably well (although, Bruno of  Calm Blue Room - a crucial component of my post ride support team - was a tad concerned about my hamstrings this morning). I must master the art of effective stretching, and soon... It took me rather longer than I'd anticipated to arrive at the Start and I wasn't made to feel especially welcome by the by-then-rather-stressed-out event organisers. Consequently, I started in the last batch of cyclists to leave Fontwell Racecourse on Saturday morning - we were all still adjusting our shoes and helmets as we left headed for where we knew not (but could have guessed). I was determined to make up for lost time, and not come in last.  I did well. I was pleased to ride alongside a man whose legs told me that this was more than a mere hobby. He, and his bike, knew the roads. He wise...