S T R E N G T H

In the past year I have gone through a marriage break-up; launched my work as The Mindful Nurse; got into the knack of being a single parent; and continued my part time work as a nurse. I am taking on other responsibilities as well, and I am doing up bits of the house that needed attention, in between cooking; reading stories, going for walks, climbing trees, counselling and having loving cuddles with my children, taking them here, there, and everywhere for after school activities and taken them for various hospital appointments; writing the book I have been trying to get out of my head for a year; going through the process of divorce; unblocking my outside sewage drain in the pouring rain (several times) as well as self-taught a few other plumbing techniques to see me through the winter; started to collect tools for my own toolbox and can use confidently; and of course, very crucially, meditating.  I have pushed myself as far out of my comfort zone as I dare. I have tried to be as calm, compassionate, kind and as good a person that I could want to be during what has been a tremendous wrench out of where my life was a year ago, whilst still acknowledging my own sadness and confusion at the trauma which has unfolded.

It took me two years to build up the courage and the strength to be where I am, now. If I had been allowed a peak at myself now, back in 2013,  I could never have believed where my path has led to. Two years ago I was frightened, weak, dis-empowered and had some vision of what I wanted to do/be, but was too under-confident to pursue it. Although I was practising mindfulness and meditation, events in my life had somehow caused me to lose my way, like being in the deep, dark wood, unsure of which way to turn for the best. I knew I had to move in the right direction, but I had no idea of what it looked like.
I had to summon up the courage and strength to take brave steps forward. Things got really tough – heartbreakingly so -for all sorts of reasons. However, one baby step at a time, I gradually found a patch of brightness in these woods, which gave me some energy and power to take bigger, firmer steps which became strides.

Looking back at how things were one year ago, and who I am as a result, I can only put it down to the fact that, through using my mindfulness techniques, meditation, the odd glass of wine and a few amazing friends and family who have supported me through this whole process, I am nearly out of the woods and onto a clearer path. With flowers, birds, butterflies, fluffy rabbits and a merry tune that I can skip along to…

OK, that might be a bit far-fetched – but why not aim for that? One of my regular meditation techniques has involved powerful visualisations of what I want my life to look and feel like. I am therefore striding in that direction, in contrast to the deep, dark world that I am walking away from. Along the way I have encountered various and numerous events to trip me up; I have had traps I have walked into; I have walked into thick mud to pull myself out of. But I’m still walking towards the clearer path.

For me, being able to see that I am doing so much and trying so hard to get things right for myself and for everyone around me, shows me my strength. Two years ago I couldn’t see that, because I was simply too busy trying to fit a square peg into a round hole. What I thought was going on didn’t fit the bigger picture. Now I know that, so I  have given up trying to fit into the bigger picture. Instead I am creating my own.

When life gets tough, you may feel that you are not strong enough to handle it. But when you gather all the little bits of who you are, then fit these pieces together, you might be able to see that you are stronger than you thought you were. Strength brings structure; structure provides resilience.

Mind Your Head

An article written by Oliver Moody for The Times recently, stated that mindfulness can be bad for you.  It seems that  two psychologists,  Miguel Farias and Catherine Wikholm have written in their book The Buddha Pill: Can Meditation Change you? that mindfulness and meditation have hidden risks which can include “mania, depression, hallucinations and psychosis”.

Mindfulness is hugely popular at the moment. It is being taught in schools, is recommended by the National Institute for Health and Care Excellence (NICE) as a treatment  for anxiety and depression, there are meditation retreats and courses all over the world, and experts making claims about its effectiveness. More recently, efforts are being made to reveal its “dark side”, including the profit-making abilities and how it can impact negatively on individuals.

There is growing evidence of the effectiveness of mindfulness, not solely on the mental health side of things, but physically and emotionally, too. There are numerous studies on the benefits of meditation, neatly and concisely summarised by Giovanni Dienstmann.   I have practised mindfulness for many years, as well as carefully taught it to adults, gained a qualification in teaching children meditation and then used the techniques with my own children; in schools; and with patients as part of my tool kit in my role as a registered nurse. I have seen great things arise from those who have used it.

Like many things, mindfulness isn’t for everybody. I have occasionally worked with those who haven’t benefited from the techniques and asked them to self-refer for further help with a psychologist – but these are the clients that haven’t wanted to or haven’t been able to explore the deeper connections within – and any good therapist would know when to signpost these clients for therapy and counselling, without leaving them unsupported and lost, which can lead to mental health issues like mania, depression or deepening anxiety.

Mindfulness requires discipline, time, connection and honesty with ourselves. In situations where we are able to see the deeper truth, of course it has the potential to bring up all sorts of emotional or mental imbalances. But it is important that the individual is supported to do this in a positive way, and for the therapist to know when to refer on, being mindful of the benefits and consequences for all. In short, then, “mind your head”.

The Code

Earlier this year,  new changes were made to The Code for nurses and midwives. The Nursing and Midwifery Council (NMC) has set updated standards that all registered nurses and midwives must apply to their practice.

There has been mixed discussion today from healthcare professionals and from the public, some of whom are in favour of the updated code of conduct and revalidation process; others who believe it to be somewhat condescending towards nurses and midwives. After the Francis Report and the Keogh Report highlighting flaws, concerns, dangers and poor practice across poorly-performing trusts, I find it puzzling that there is so much variation in care delivery across what should be a well-performing, unified organisation, theNational Health Service. Will updating a code of conduct for some of its workforce be enough to drive up standards of care delivery, or is there Something Missing?

I’ve worked in several different trusts as a nurse – both in primary care and secondary care – as well as in the independent sector for a while. Wherever I have worked, there have always been various issues ranging from money shortages, poor standards of care, mistakes, anger and disenchantment, to job dissatisfaction and stress with burnout. I’ve seen the best and the worst of care; with some incredible, caring staff who will go the extra mile for their patients. I’ve heard people say that the NHS runs on the goodwill of those who work within it. I’ve always done my best as a nurse to work to the best of my ability, for the benefit of patients. And if you were to ask any other nurse or midwife or healthcare worker, they would almost always say the same.

I have always said that if I ever stopped caring about my job or my patient, it was either time to change job or leave nursing. I often wonder if standards of care delivered by the NHS workforce reflect the standards of care delivered by the trusts and by the government…if as healthcare professionals we are expected to uphold standards and codes; if NHS Trusts are expected to comply with statutory regulations, targets and standards; what targets, standards and compliance are in place for the top governing bodies and government which control the NHS from the top down? Where does this drive for improvement, delivering high standards of care, behave compassionately and respectfully to the patients begin – the individual, the government – or both? Where does it begin for the staff? Why are staff bullied? Why are there failures in care? Will a code of conduct be enough to ensure that dreadful things don’t happen in the NHS, any more, or is there Something Missing?

I believe there is: one of the fundamental elements of mindfulness practice is based on connection. Connection with the Self. This connection, in the form of reflection or a moment to sit still and contemplate a situation or event that has taken place allows a more meaningful experience. Regular mindfulness practice and other forms of meditation, such as Metta meditation has a positive impact on ourselves: it makes us “nicer”. This connection within, when practiced regularly, can enable us to connect, empathise and act with compassion towards others. I would like to see this connection embedded with everyone, including patients, staff, trust boards, local and national government. The connection works both ways, though – even I struggle with that bit – I find it difficult to have compassion for the current political mess the NHS is faced with, at the moment.

So, this new code…I hear (and connect with) all those who have positive and negative experiences in their care delivery or as a patient; I understand and agree with much of the revised code; but  I also see that mindfulness deserves a high profile space in clinical care, starting with training student healthcare professionals. Influencing our thoughts towards ourselves and how we relate to others begins within. If this happens, who knows: perhaps others will begin to be influenced positively, too – including the public having a greater sense of trust and empathy for what NHS staff face on a daily basis.

Nikki teaches mindfulness and meditation to adults and children, and works as a nurse in an acute NHS hospital.

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!

Heart Box

I am having something of a parental re-vamp, at the moment. There have been a lot of changes at home, lately, bringing with them a number of challenges. It's OK to have these challenges in life, I think, but I want to be conscious of my parenting by being able to connect with my children as much as I can, in order to understand them. I want them to understand their own feelings.

That said, they are pretty good at being able to articulate their thoughts and fears. "I just don't know how to work this out" was a tearful remark made by my 5 year-old son, recently. This sentence stung my heart, because I could totally feel his pain and confusion in the midst of all these changes we are going through. I don't expect him to be able to "work this out"; I don't expect him to be able to process this all like an adult; I do expect wobbles and tears and fears and that is why I am doing my best to be able to keep this line of communication open, for my children to know that they can talk to me about their feelings; and for them to know that their feelings are completely valid and acceptable.

I want them to know that I know it's hard for them and that I am trying to make things better for them. I hope that I am, because I don't think I can try any harder than what I'm already doing.

Part of the work I have been doing in the schools I did some sessions with, involved choosing one of the printed intentions I'd organised. Intentions are sentences or themes which inspire the child (or member of staff) and can choose to follow each day. They select a sentence out of the box, and decide whether or not they are going to go ahead with it. It is a voluntary thing, but the idea is to practice mindfulness using this intention as they go about their day. My aim is for the individual to reach the end of the school day, and think, "yes, I achieved this" when they reflect back on their activities, conversations, lessons, and feelings. Reflection is a mindful activity in itself, and good practice in which to be thankful for ourselves and others, and think about how to modify any behaviours that the individual wishes to change - or to be able to simply identify a need to modify a behaviour/thought/intention etc - for the better.

I decided that today I would bring this into my home, because it gives us all a focus. It gives each of us a chance to not only pick an intention at the beginning of the day, but to re-connect with each other at the end of the day at our evening meal, give each other support, praise, encouragement and reflect together. My aim is that this will bring us closer together as a family, to give recognition for each other's feelings, as well as reinforce and grow our love.

What do you think? How do you bring emotional development into your family? I'd love to know and learn from other's experiences, so please share! Thank you.

pill-popping or hearts and minds?

Today's news has included an article about a new pill for men and women who drink excessively, to help them reduce their alcohol intake. It has made the headlines and induced discussions in the media, with the slant of being a new "wonder-drug" that will help many people.

That's great, isn't it?

Yes, it is great,

I don't think there is anything wrong with taking medication. I am a nurse, so I spend a great deal of my time administering tablets, medicines, drips and antibiotics to help make the people I look after, better. This is fine.

But...

I do also feel that as a society, we are easily swayed by medications to combat illness. We are conditioned to believe that a pill will make everything better, again. I find myself telling my children that "this medicine will make you feel better", or telling my patient, "this tablet will take the pain away", or "this antibiotic will kill the bug you have". Yes, they may well do, and invariably, that is what happens.

But...

Why do we think that we are only capable of fixing ourselves with a pill? What is it about our fixation with medicines to cure all ills? As a nurse, if I have a patient who is agitated, anxious or confused, the planned route would be to speak to the doctor to get a tablet to calm the patient down.

But...

With increasing frequency, I am using mindfulness techniques in my clinical practice to help my patients. I have had some surprising and successful results, from children to the elderly; from the scared and confused to the acutely ill, climbing-the-walls-with-pain patients.
For example, about a year ago I did a shift in A&E and was looking after a very scared, confused elderly lady. She did not know she was in hospital, and was desperate to go home. She had fallen at home and was very unsteady on her feet in the department, which was dangerous because she repeatedly got up from her chair to try to find her way into the cold, wet morning in her dressing gown and slippers. I sat down with her, did some breathing and focusing work with her, and then did a 5-minute meditation with her. As she relaxed in her chair, she settled, and then dozed off! In the time it would have taken me to either speak to a doctor about getting something to make her less agitated, or tried to get her to sit in her chair by telling her where she was, what had happened to her, and answered the repeating questions, thereby increasing her agitated state, I had simply taught her to relax her body and her mind for long enough for her to fall asleep.

So...

It works! So much so, that I am taking this further, starting with teaching mindfulness and meditation to my colleagues and other staff at the trust I work in.

Coming back to the news today, though, makes me feel a slight disappointment. Not because I don't think the tablet will work, as it sounds very effective; but because it compounds the all-round belief that we can only be fixed with conventional medicine. It reinforces the increasing belief in our society that the NHS can be relied upon to fix everybody, and it increases the "clinical" perception that society's health can only be managed "clinically". We are generally losing our ability to see things more holistically, that there can be some other frameworks that support an individual to take better care of themselves, manage their existing conditions as a "bundle" of care rather than singularly; and that by teaching people to connect within to understand why, for example, they feel the need to drink 3 pints of beer a night, they might be able to reduce their intake and feel healthier as a result.

Spark or Sparkle? Get connected!

I've been reading the latest reports on what's happening in our world, this week. Ebola; the conflict in Gaza; Syria; Ukraine and Russia; misguided/greedy/clueless politicians around the world making decisions affecting their country and not listening the the masses; then there's the rising obesity, cancers, poverty, famine, the global economy; the death of Robin Williams. All of the above interspersed with adverts trying to influence what car I should buy, what I should be wearing, where I should be holidaying, and how to be thin. Social commentary on facebook/twitter about the above, and the radio making sure views are adhered to. Or to give people a chance to rant about a subject. No wonder I'm feeling glum. In the time it's taken me to even type this list, I'm feeling lower than before I started.
This can't be how life is supposed to be...is it? Are we all hard-wired to strive for our own individual wants, over and above what others needs are? At what point did the human race move from looking after their basic needs - as being satisfactory to a happy life - to tearing apart someone else's to satisfy one?
 I know this is not the case: the outpouring of grief over Robin William's apparent suicide has been immense, and why? Because he was a fantastically funny human being, who demonstrated his ultimate fragility. A fragility which exists inside all of us. His death has struck a chord with many.
What's happening in the middle east is becoming a prominent news feature every day, and as such is no longer hard-hitting. A couple of weeks ago, whilst eating breakfast in a hotel dining room, the TV was showing the BBC news and weather. As the news items rolled, it reported the latest death toll of the Palestinians: nobody moved. Nobody watched the item. Heads down, shovelling in their food. A moment later, and the weather forecast came on the screen: heads swivelled to watch in anticipation of how hot it was going to be, and whether raincoat or sunscreen would be required, for the day. A hush fell in the room. As soon as the report had finished, people went back to eating. How can this be? Is this English-ness? Is this apathy? Is this a tolerance thing? Is it tolerable to hear how children are dying because of an arguement over land and religion as a means to power and control? I feel the answer to this is "yes" - because we are flooded with the news all the time. We are becoming hardened to war atrocities, because it is something happening far, far away, and it doesn't affect us, at all. Does it?
You know what? It does! It bloody well does, you know. Why?
The fact that someone is more bothered about the weather in their town than fighting and killing going on in another part of the world, is a worrying symptom of how our societies are becoming disconnected with each other. My ability to continue to empathise and feel the need to help relies on my emotional intelligence, that which lights me up inside. How would I feel if I were in a refugee camp in Syria with my children? Not being able to go back to my home. How does it feel to be too scared to leave the house for fear of being raped, killed, or arrested? How does it feel to bury a child? How does it feel to lose everything in the blink of an eye? How does it feel if I forget my umbrella and it rains because I didn't listen to the weather report that day? I get wet: so what?
The thing is, it seems that there are more people who are willing to loudly complain about getting wet before they go home to shower and change into something warm and dry, than those who are shouting about the injustice in the world, and who are prepared to hold out their hand to help a fellow human being. A disproportionate power who want to seek revenge and kill, in comparison to those who are prepared to connect with themselves and others, and find out what has made them feel that urge and make a change. That's why we are all affected by apathy or a lack of empathy. I know that there are movements, campaigns, and positive ways in which social media is helping to influence societies and governments and those in power, but we need to make more of a connection with what's going on in the world, and pay attention. We are all affected in some way by the actions of others.
I was waiting to pay for my food in the supermarket a few days ago, where the store is being refurbished. It was quite busy, and there was an older couple behind me getting really cross and complaining about having to wait to pay for their trolley full of items, despite a free till which was for "baskets only". "So what?" I thought. "The man at the till is doing his job. There are a number of people walking around with baskets, and a larger number with trolleys stacked full of food".
The woman started to raise her voice in annoyance at this, referring to the "stupid idiot" at the till who had refused  to serve her. I wondered whether the young assistant had heard her, and if so, how he would have felt to be insulted like this. I made eye contact with her. The woman continued to complain. I smiled as I listened, then said, "Ah well...never mind. Let it go! There are worse things going on in the world, right now! A few extra minutes queueing won't do you any harm." She stopped in her tracks, took a step back from me, then whispered, "You're right. Of course not." She was so wrapped up in her own head, thoughts, irritation, that everything else had become insignificant. But given an opportunity to see another view, she made a connection with her own feelings, and realised that it didn't really matter, in the grand scheme of things. After I'd paid for my food, I went up to the woman, and wished her a lovely weekend. She smiled back at me and wished me the same. Ta-da! Connection made: spark turned into sparkle. Job done!

This is what this blog post is really about: taking a moment to step back from a situation and connect with your self. Just a moment to track what's going on, back to the "spark", and decide whether it is a sparkle to light your inner glow (that which makes you shine); whether that spark starts an unstoppable fire (that which provokes a sense of a need for revenge or retribution); or whether that spark should be extinguished before it causes any damage (the awareness of negative feelings and acknowledgement  before letting them go without consequence). And if it ain't gonna make you shine brightly enough for others to see and share their light with yours, then don't set the sparks off in the first place. As Ghandi said, "You must be the change you want to see in the world".

Tracking The Inner Voice

A cup of decaffeinated coffee sits on the table, next to my laptop as I work. I am in a hotel near the camp site I am staying at with my family: they have gone on a day trip whilst I take some time out to write, catch up on work and come back to find my inner voice, again. I have been on a roadtrip around the UK with my 2 children for the past two weeks, going from friends to YHA to hotels, to parents; and now camping in Hampshire. I feel worn out and in need of some peace and quiet, despite the fun and frivolity of the past fortnight.
Outside, the rain has been lashing down; now the sunshine is out again and the world outside the window no longer looks dark and foreboding, but light and welcoming: even the leaves on the trees seem to shimmer with delight as they dance in the summery breeze. Here in the relaxed atmosphere of the hotel lounge, Jack Johnson is playing through the speakers; cutlery scraping plate occasionally accompanies the acoustic guitar, joining in the rhythm of footsteps on polished wooden flooring. A child patiently teaches his terrier pup how to sit and stay: the dog obliges and is rewarded with a splash of wine from his master's mother's wine glass.
Back to my inner voice. What is it saying to me? "Write. Work. Get on with what you came here for. You haven't got all day." I take a sip of my coffee. "It tastes too good to be decaff" says the voice. But I reason with it: "I checked with the waiter and he said it is. It's fine. Go ahead, enjoy!" There was a time I would drink caffeinated coffee, but in the past six years I have given it up. I feel so much better for it, too: I no longer feel jittery or anxious, which is how I must have felt a lot of the time without even realising it. There was once a time when I was accidentally given a proper coffee whilst out with my son, who was 3 at the time. Within 40 minutes of taking my first sip, I felt impulsive and wanted to go out and spend lots of money. My son egged me on in our apparently reasonable discussion to get my ears pierced for a second time (seeing mummy acting with exuberance all of a sudden appealed to his toddler mind; we laughed together as I walked home with sparkly blue earrings added to my plain studs. Caffeine does strange things to me).
But back to my inner voice. "What are you doing? Just get on with what you need to do! Why are you adding sugar to that cup? You don't take sugar!" I reason with this: "The sugar lumps look nice. I want one".

I take a lump and watch as it plops into the darkness. A few bubbles appear on the surface. I find myself entering into a quiet moment of reflection. I see how the sugar has altered the coffee. I see myself as the cup, the coffee as the material I am made of, and the sugar as the external substance that alters the matter. Bubbling away, changing the structure, but the vessel itself remains unchanged. A concious decision to change something within, as easy as that. "If only all decisions were that easy" I hear within me.
But in reality, anything can be changed, it just takes action. Thoughts can change the perception of substance. Only action can alter our reality. In order to make the change, though, the perception needs to be there. We can only perceive that a change is needed by recognising the options and choices around us, but we may have to seek for them before they present themselves. We may not always make the "right" choice, but that decision changes us intrinsically. Within us all is the intrinsic ability to be flexible, to change, but what holds us back? "Fear!" I hear my inner voice exclaim. "That sugar is bad for you, what are you thinking?!" I reflect on this. "Habit" I answer. "It's my habit of adding sugar to my coffee, because the sweetness takes the edge off the bitterness. I don't really like the taste so much, these days. Why did I order that coffee? Because I doubt the hotel serves rooibus tea with almond milk: my preferred position of hidden hippy." So I adapt to my surroundings, rather than force a change on others. I doubt there is a demand for this, and I understand that others may recoil at the thought of almond milk and rooibus. I get it! But there could be, if more people knew about it, if more people were willing to try something new, to make a concious decision to change a habit, without allowing fear to stand in the way of an experiment.
I drink the coffee, enjoying the bitter-sweet flavour, knowing that I won't become jumpy or impulsive. Outside, the sun is still shining. Time has moved on. The alcoholic dog has left the building, and new diners have entered the lounge. The music has changed to something with a bit more energy, and new staff have arrived. The hotel has changed within, but outside it still looks the same. There is a different feel to it. I am now enjoying a bowl of soup and a healthy glass of water. Everything has changed, but is still the same.