The Reward is the Journey

Anxiety is on the up.  It makes appearances ever more regularly amongst my clients/patients.*  It comes in different guises:  sometimes attaching itself to certain triggers, at other times preferring to float more freely. Anxiety is troublesome.  It demands attention yet does not like to be examined.  Anxiety does not always make sense.  There is often little value in seeking to ascertain its aetiology as, regularly, there will not be an obvious cause-and-effect in action. First things first.  Anxiety needs to be put in its place.  Therapy can be extremely helpful in right-sizing panic when anxiety has become unmanageable.   As a therapist supporting those for whom anxiety has got out of control, it is useful for me to understand what seems to be triggering anxious symptoms and how the individual experiences these.  No two anxiety presentations are identical, but there are patterns and traits I have become all...

My body tells me it is unhappy.  Physically, 2016 does not feel to have got off to the best start for me...   I have been plagued by several bugs which feel to have got me in their grips one after the other.  Or perhaps I have failed to shake off the original which has lurked within my system. We are beyond honey and lemon.  I have exhausted my supplies of Echinacea drops and Manuka honey.   Paracetamol, ibuprofen and decongestant have all been surrendered to.  And now antibiotics have been introduced to the mix.  I must confess to feeling somewhat self piteous.  In all likelihood I have a chest infection.  I only hope it will respond to the prescribed penicillin. As my GP efficiently signed the script that had only just emerged from the printer, we discussed how long I was to consider myself 'signed off' for.   As a self employed practitioner I have nobody to give my sick note to, but my doctor knows that its best...

Birthdays are important.  Mine included.  Tho' it falls precariously between Christmas and New Year in recent years I have thrown caution to the wind and marked this thing called the ageing process on or close to the day itself trusting that whomsoever should be there will be there. And so it was this year...  I celebrated my birthday amongst family and friends.  It was a lovely evening during which we shared good food, yummy cakes, and laughter.  Sitting around a large oval table were 18 very important people, each of whom has played a significant part in making the last year a special one. When seeking to gather a group for such a purpose, one must be wise to the fact that life happens and plans change:  I was not to know exactly how many people would be attending until the day, and that was fine.  There are things that merit worrying about.  This was never to be one of them.  For things, I have found, more often than not, work ...

The real privilege of any working week is to find 'flow'.  Flow does not, I think, lend itself to easy description; rather, it has a quality that you can feel, and I am delighted to say that I experience this most pleasant feeling at fairly regular intervals.  A facet of the flow I seek to describe is that sense that you are just exactly where you are meant to be...   On retraining to become a therapist, I'm not sure I was able to imagine what it might feel like to practise as one.  I had, of course, spent a fair bit of time 'in the other chair' (the chair closest to the tissues) but this was to be just the beginning of this wondrous journey.    Nobody can go back and start a new beginning,  but anyone can start today and make a new ending   ~ Maria Robinson In so much of my work I feel connected to my purpose.  I have the luxury of doing work I love.  My work and the way I work are much more than my job.  S...

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 has been a very strange year.  Everything has changed.  Keeping up with the changes was the challenge.  And, somehow, I feel I managed that.   There is something about the work I do and the way I approach it that means I am constantly reminded of the inevitability of change.  I have the privilege of being able to watch people change before my very eyes.   Sometimes I see the changes before they do.  Which is a second privilege:  I get to share this with them by reflecting what I see. The last year has enabled me to see very clearly this process working in reverse.  Those around me have gently reflected back to me all that has gone on and the height of the hurdles I have encountered along the way.   We needed to move quickly.  There wasn't much space at that point to take time to reflect:  we were in it and that was exactly where we needed to be.  Now there really is no rush:  all is exactly as ...