Cool and refreshing

The sea is great for washing away tension…it’s good for the soul! The water was chilly but refreshing; the sea-weed cushioned my feet from shells and pebbles, and softly washed away my worries with gentleness and care. I synchronised my breath to the waves as they moved towards me and away, again, reminding me that there is always flow, that nothing stays still, there is always movement.

As I drank in the blues and pale greens of sea and sky, I felt a surge of gratitude for the elements and for the beautiful part of the world where I live. Bird song, which today replaced the sharp, stern tones of sea gulls, was kindly and joyful. A blessing for me, of which I am thankful.
If you can, try to get your feet into the water today. If you’re not near the sea, book yourself some down time (even 10 mins will help), fill a bowl with salt water (preferably sea salt or even Himalayan pink salt), and soak your soles for a relaxing, rejuvenating experience.
Enjoy the moment! X

The Mindfulness of Love

This post encourages you to ask yourself what love, in its implicit sense, means to you. Can love be implicit, or is it more fragmented, than that?

Suppose I declare: “I love chocolate”. But when I really think about it, it isn’t the chocolate I love: it’s the sugar rush I experience whilst eating it. It’s the moment I allow myself to sit quietly and relax whilst I am enjoying the sugar rush. It’s the reward I give myself, like I’ve given myself that permission to enjoy the chocolate. It isn’t the chocolate itself. This might be a different experience to the next person, but it is my perspective.

So do I love chocolate? Maybe; but not as much as I love listening to the radio on my way to work. But when I think about it, it isn’t the person on the radio or the music that I love, it’s the act of driving and being quiet that I love. It’s the time spent alone with my thoughts, peppered with music and conversation that I love.

So, do I love listening to the radio? Maybe; but not as much as I love running. I LOVE running. I have to run to feel human, again. Running gives me headspace, time to meditate, time to listen to the radio (and sometimes reward myself with a little chocolate, afterwards). Running makes me feel happy and relaxed.

Yes, I love running. But I love nursing, too: I love coming to work. Seriously, I do. It helps me forget about any negative stuff going on in my life; I get to meet all sorts of different people from all walks of life; to me, nursing is an art where it is a constant project of learning to understand others, help alleviate symptoms or pain, help to make someone better, as well as have the privilege of sharing some of the most personal experiences of someone’s life, with joy, happiness or sadness and grief. There is little in life more rewarding than seeing someone come into hospital ill and in need of help, and leave with a smile on their face, fit and ready to carry on with their life. It is the same with my reiki and my mindfulness work. I feel such gratitude and love for the work I am lucky enough to do – and be paid to do it!

I love my children. They are the biggest, most love-inducing, intoxicating part of my life. I live and breathe for them. I will walk to the ends of the earth and back for them. Who wouldn’t do the same for their own children? My children are funny, silly, clever, annoying, talented, argumentative and unconditionally loving towards me. No matter what mood I’m in, they can snap me into a smile just by the things they say or do. Their hugs, our chats, the singing and dancing, their little notes telling me “I love you” or  their paintings and drawings show me that I am so lucky to have them in my life. They love life from moment to moment and at full speed. My family and friends carry the same significance to me.

And finally, I love myself. There is nothing wrong with saying this. In fact it is crucial for the rest to fall into place. If I didn’t, I couldn’t enjoy and treasure everything that is my life. My life is made up of these loves and joys. If it wasn’t, I couldn’t be happy. If I didn’t love myself, I couldn’t love my life the way I do. I have my off days, I have the days when I have to search a bit deeper to find that love and joy, but it is always there. I believe that without that love for myself, other aspects in my life carry less meaning. I nurture myself and  others. It’s what I do. Nurturing the love within means that everything else can grow, too.

Planting The Seeds

 My beginners mindfulness group were asked at the beginning to sit quietly for a few minutes. In this time, once they had begun to settle in to the session, I asked them to feel a sense of love for themselves at that moment and feel the sensation grow from their heart outwards. Then I asked for them to feel a sense of peace. Connecting the sense of peace and love (there is a hippy inside us all) I asked for each individual to consider a positive intention (a goal to work towards) for themselves; and lastly, to connect this sense of peace and love with the goal or intention. After a few moments the group were asked to choose some seeds to plant into a tray, all the while remembering the intention, as well as maintaining or re-creating the sense of love and peace. Then, to visualise the seed growing, changing, sprouting shoots and growing into the flower it will become. In this flower is embedded peace, love and the happy goal or intention. Each person was asked to take their seeds home with them, to nurture them as they grow and each day sit for just a few minutes, re-creating the sense of peace and love, even connecting with their seed. Today was about planting for peace. Imagining the plant sending out the peace and love through the roots and into the ground, to spread beyond ourselves and lead to others.Yes, this may all sound very hippy, but there is a point to this. The plant is a metaphor for a goal: the goal (intention) is to bring about positive change in the individual. By nurturing the seed (watering it, maintaining just the right conditions for it to grow) the plant has a much greater chance of survival. By feeling a sense of love for the seed, the love is actually for the self – an unconditional love with which to grow the individual’s self-belief and desire to succeed in their intention. Setting an intention gives the plant a deeper meaning. Feeling motivated to succeed and practising the commitment to succeed is a self-fulfilling prophecy. The plant is receiving the individual’s energy through the commitment to preservation.This exercise is loosely based on Metta meditation, a Buddhist practice which focuses on love of the self; love of a friend; love towards someone the individual doesn’t know/know well; sending love to someone the individual doesn’t like; and finally, sending love out to the individual’s community/the world. It is a powerful exercise, one which can invoke all sorts of emotions – positive and negative – but when practised regularly, it can harbour greater coping mechanisms in everyday life, particularly if the individual faces conflict in any aspect of their life; but can have a positive influence on self-esteem.So get planting for peace and love in your life and in your neighbourhood!

Zen and Jam

I was given a windfall of plums, this week, by my friend the Jammy Bodger. Today was my only chance of getting some jam made, as some of the plums were starting to look a bit mouldy.
I love making jam. But I make such a horrible, sticky mess that the processes of washing up, and scraping dried jam juice from my oven and pans take the edge off the occasion.
Today was no exception. Well actually, it was an exception, because today I made more mess than I've ever made, before. I let the pan boil over; the bowl I used for the stones and the skin wasn't big enough, so plum juice dripped down the sides, onto the worktop, and down the cupboard door.
For a while, I wondered why on earth I was creating such chaos for myself, when normally, I would at least try to keep things organised.
Eventually, I realised what I was doing; I was inappropriately multi-tasking, resulting in something Not Quite Right. Whilst the plums were bubbling away, I went off to do some jobs on my laptop, in another room. One of the jobs on my long to-do list for today involved making a phone call. The phone call reminded me that I needed to send someone an email; and when I opened up my email inbox I found 3 emails I needed to respond to. In the midst of this, I could hear my oven timer beeping, telling me it was time to dredge the skin and stones from the bubbling pan in the kitchen.
So then, it was no wonder I was finding the process of making jam very frustrating; the emails I needed to take action on seemed difficult to do; and my to-do list was starting to annoy me, with my inner voice sarcastically mocking me: "Ooh, you think you're so clever with your list-making, why not add to the list just to prove how much you can do in a day!"
After an hour of pacing up and down the hall between laptop and sticky pan, I decided enough was enough, and focused on the one task. The jam-making. But I found myself rushing, trying to get on to the next task, whilst separating plum stones from flesh, and making a terrible mess of it. My patience was starting to wear thin.
At this point, I stopped, and thought about what was happening. Today I have had some big challenges to deal with, including life-changing decisions which I'm now following through on; the to-do list had to be completed, it couldn't wait until next week because I'm back at work; the jam needed making before the fruit rotted away; and it's Friday. Fridays are supposed to allow me to be a bit more gentle with myself, instead of over-analysing, over-reaching, and doing too much at a time. No wonder I was feeling impatient.
I changed. I took a deep breath, and completely focused on those plum stones. I had over 3Ibs of plums to go through, which were checked carefully before placing back in the pan. I ignored the mess, I'd clean it later. I just concentrated exactly on the task in front of me. I began to enjoy it. A sense of fulfilment about completing the task filled me, and at the end, I had a taste of the fruits of my labour: not too sweet, slightly sharp, and with a hint of spice.
That pretty-much sums up my Friday!

One Step At A Time

This photo represents how I try to view each day: I can only experience each part of my day as I reach it, one step at a time. I can start my day by looking at what's immediately in front of it, and so react to it accordingly. I am aware that the rest of the day stretches ahead of me, but I can't experience it and know what will be until I reach it.
One Step At A Time.
There is movement around me, there is a flow, a current; but I choose to take things One Step At A Time. I can look ahead, but not cannot reach it without taking those steps, first. Each step will feel different to the last. A different perspective, a different feel to it. A different moment. I can look behind and see the steps I have made, and although they may matter, they are no longer important in this very moment.
In other words, when I wake up in the morning, I deliberately stop myself from dwelling on the day ahead. It just makes me forget to live in the moment - that first satisfying yawn and stretch after waking, listening to the sounds outside my window, the noise of the outside world, mixed with the sounds of me: my breathing, my voice, my rumbling, empty tummy; my children laughing and chatting. The light straining through the curtains, the feel of the bedclothes, the warmth I am surrounded by. These things and more make me feel so grateful for the day ahead - whatever it may bring. Why spoil the moment by bringing in the stuff to come several hours away - be it good or something to stress about - when I could just enjoy those first precious moments of a new day? Being mindful of each step - from brushing my teeth (I feel so grateful to have healthy teeth, a toothbrush, toothpaste and fresh, clean water), eating my breakfast (delicious toast and tea, tasty fruit), chatting with my children (admiring their growing brains, personality and the unconditional love we have for each other), and so on - experiencing each step to its fullest potential, and enjoying myself, is a key to feeling happy, connected, and contented in my life.
Believe me when I say I have bad days - don't we all? But taking those steps to get from one end to the other when experienced as fully as possible, in connection with ourselves, with others, and with our environment makes everything more of an experience. And if we can try to weave in some gratitude for ourselves and others, and share in the fullest joy for the great stuff that happens to ourselves and others in our day, isn't that worth getting up for?

Enjoy The Moment

How often do you hear your children asking for a mobile phone/tablet/new trainers or other highly-desired items? 

How do you respond? Do you ever ask them to consider why they feel they "need" it, or to consider the difference between a want and a need? It could stem from a need to fit in with their peers, to be liked, and to be accepted by others, which are all vital to our sense of self. So if you are feeling the pressure but feel that they are too young or not yet able to take responsibility for these status symbols, how do you teach them to understand?

Each time I feel that my children are asking for something they don't need but want, in order to fulfil their sense of self, I remind them of an analogy I developed with them: see your life as being like a big, best quality chocolate bar, wrapped in shiny paper. 

You carefully take off the layer and look at the beautiful, complete bar of chocolate. Then you decide how you would like to eat it. 

Which would be better: to pick up the chocolate, bite into it and eat the whole lot, and then feel full, sick, and sad that it is all gone? 

Or enjoy a small square at a time, savouring each mouthful, experiencing it piece by piece and happily admiring the taste, smell, feel and sight? 

So do you want everything right now - to consume what you have - and then get to a point where you are left wanting more? 

Or would you like to enjoy your life piece by piece, moment by moment, taking in the scenery, sights, emotions, experiences and the beauty of life, savouring each moment and evolving into the person you are?

Live in the moment, and enjoy each and every day!

Photo:Nikki Harman - Chocolate from Chococo, Swanage

How To Eat An Orange

You may think eating is a pretty simple activity, and on the surface, you'd be right. But I want to look beyond the surface, at what's beneath the obvious. Let's be honest: how often do you concentrate on what you're eating or drinking? How often do you stop to consider how that food you're popping into your mouth arrived there in the first place? How often do you really pay attention to what's happening to you as you're eating?

I, for one, don't spend every mouthful of food deeply thinking about it, or examining the sense's reactions to the food. I don't bless each morsel with gratitude, I don't think about how the food arrived on my plate; and I definitely don't always say a grace. If I did, surely my food will have cooled down, and not taste as good as it should have? I am, as many others are, guilty of one of the following on a regular basis:

• eating whilst watching TV
• eating whilst answering a text
• eating whilst working on my laptop
• eating whilst reading a book or writing notes
• eating whilst walking around

I bet the majority of those reading this will be able to agree that they have done at least 2, if not all of those in the list above (and if you can do all at once, then you are multi-talented). Some of you will be able to agree that you do say a prayer or bless your food - but how many of you do so for every meal?

What do you think is the best approach? How does food make you feel? Do different types of food affect your mood or how you feel? What is your relationship with your food?  What sort of food do you eat on a daily basis? Do you cook it yourself, is it freshly prepared? Is it healthful? For those who are just about to skip to the next blog, wait! 

Please, stop and think for a moment. Because food is a huge part of every society, every culture, we depend on food to keep us going, at the very least, and to enrich ourselves and feel healthy, at best. Don't you think that something we as humans rely on so much for survival, something so crucial to our health, should get more attention when we prepare it, and eat it?

Today I'm going to give you an example. I teach this in my beginners mindfulness course. I love this exercise, because I see the reactions of those taking part in it. I love when the participants feed back to me the exact point of the exercise: it makes me feel that someone else is on my wavelength. I love it when those who look at me suspiciously when I present them with a plate of fruit - like I'm a little bit crazy - find the exercise has taught them something that they didn't really think about beforehand.

How do you eat an orange?

• Do you cut it into wedges and suck them? 
• Do you peel it and eat each segment? 
• Do you halve it and squeeze out the juice?
• Do you think about how that orange arrived in your kitchen?

My suggestion is that you get yourself an orange. Hold it in your hand, feeling the texture, the weight and the shape. Just be curious about who planted the orange tree. Where did it grow? How long do you think it took to grow? Who picked it when it was ripe?
Who packed it, and packaged it along with the rest of the crates to be shipped around the world? What was the journey on the ship like for those who work at sea to deliver goods around to different countries? Who drove the crates with your orange to the supermarkets, or delivered your vegbox to your door?

Who placed your orange on the shelf for you to see, and buy, or loaded your fruit box?

And now, here you are, holding your beautiful, precious orange, that which has been handled from seed to plate. Acknowledge all those who have had a part in giving you your moment of sustenance. What might the life story be of each person involved? Thank them for their part in providing you with food.

Begin to prepare the orange. As you do so, breathe in the zest, smell the sunshine and the rain and the air, soil and energy required to transform the orange seed into the fruit you are preparing, now.

Then, just before you place your first segment or wedge into your mouth, clear your mind and zone in completely on the experience of what you are doing. Concentrate as you bite into it. Taste it. What do you experience? What do you notice?

Continue to eat the orange, observing your senses as you do so, watching your thoughts and concentrating on what you are doing. When you have finished, sit quietly for a minute or two, just to reflect. What comes up for you?

You know when you've digested that orange, when all the vitamins and water have been carefully, chemically stored in your body, the waste of which is eliminated from your system and into the toilet (let's not get too graphic at this juncture), what happens to it? It goes back to the earth. Through your breath, through your skin, through your elimination systems, into the sewage, into the water, into the air, and back to earth.

Can you see, then, that we are all intrinsically connected? That person who planted the seed or operated the machinery (even the people who assembled machinery in the factory), to the person who took your money for the orange at the shop, has had a part in providing you with sustenance. By eating it, you take on the energy of this process, and by eliminating it, you provide the earth with sustenance. It's a two-way process.

When we eat, we are engaging in a big, symbiotic relationship with each other, the world; we are all doing it in a similar way for mutual benefit of ourselves and for earth, consciously or unconsciously.

I'm not suggesting that you treat every meal in this manner - who has time for that in their lives? - but to at least acknowledge the food you are about to eat, from seed to plate, and for the work you have put into being able to buy (or grow) yourself.

Give thanks - and enjoy every mouthful - for of course, you are what you eat.