Broken Bone, mending minds

My daughter, (above), was happily bouncing on a trampoline a couple of weeks ago, when she landed awkwardly after landing a little half-bounce...not even a big jump; no fall onto the ground - just a little jump. She heard a loud "click" and then had lots of pain. I didn't know about the big click she heard until she mentioned it in the emergency department, but until then, I had assumed it was a soft tissue injury, as I couldn't see any obvious signs of a broken limb, and the swelling went down with some ice packs, rest and pain relief. She even managed to hobble a bit.
This has been haunting me ever since. I had assumed that it was a soft tissue injury and as I know my daughter very well, I also assumed that as she has a low pain threshold, that she was feeling panicky about being in pain. So although I was sympathetic to her pain and helped her, I also asked her to try to relax and enjoy the rest of the day, as we were at a party.
 As the hours passed, she settled down but then awoke in more pain, so I did take her to the emergency department where her leg was x-rayed, and yup...there it was, plain as day: a nasty fracture. For my daughter, the moment where the surprised staff told us the findings - surprised, as they initially thought the same as I did - validated everything she had already feared and all that I had not been prepared to consider. It hurt her that I hadn't believed her.
So the last week or so has been spent getting to grips with what's happened, what is going on, and wondering about the future. We have all cried, laughed, hugged and supported each other to accept what is going on. We have no idea how the leg will heal, as it is a nasty break, so we are preparing to consider how things might look for my daughter in the future. It feels like grief in a way. We are facing a different view to the one we were looking at before the accident, but we are also living a different life now, too. A wheelchair is her best friend. She has started at secondary school, coming in on day one with a bright blue plaster, in a wheelchair, on crutches and having to learn about a new building, new classrooms, new teachers, students, friends, rules, and all the while in a vulnerable position, sat down in her chair with her leg stuck out in front of her! The school have been fantastic at supporting her, and her friends have been keen to help her get to classes and at break times.
I am so proud of her achievements, because of the extra pressure she has been faced with. She has dealt with it so well. She has been strong and determined. I have been doing lots of mindful work with her, as well as with myself. In the end, what it comes down to is this: learning to adapt to a new situation brings positives out of negatives. The pain, the frustration, the inconvenience, the fear over what might be. My guilt, my willing her to get better and to mend fast, my love for her which dissolves any fear for her. My sadness for her, which comes in waves, and which I allow to come up, feel it completely, then let it go, is healing in some ways. Her anger, her cries of "it's not fair" when she can't pick something up from the floor, or get through a door, or when her leg is hurting, or when she wants to just get up and run around with her friends, she sees as a motivation for getting better, rather than to pity herself. She has a strong, bright spirit that is teaching her resilience, patience, determination, and strength. My mindfulness work with her is helping her to tap into these positive qualities, those of which she did not know were there and are so strong, and which are helping her to cope with these big changes at the moment; and she is able to talk about her frustrations, fears, worries and the negatives, which we are paying attention to but are not allowing to consume her. We are looking forward to drawing inspiration from watching the paralympics, too. For me, I am learning resilience, determination, patience and that my love for her goes far deeper than I ever knew. I am learning from her that the more she is held back, the further she will fly when she is free to leap...just as long as it's not on a trampoline...

Nikki is a Connected Kids™ tutor and apprentice trainer. Contact Nikki at innerspaceproject1@gmail.com

Pastures New

Last Autumn I made a pact with this ailing meadow: that by the following Spring, we would both be in bloom. In the cold, grey light of October, as I absorbed the detail of the dying grasses giving way to muddy, rain-sodden footfall, I asked the meadow to bloom stronger than before, the following year. The meadow replied with a forceful sea-breeze, cruelly blowing hard raindrops into my cold, red cheeks. Initially put out, I then took the rain to hold the emotion of my side of the pact - that which I needed to open up to in order to grow; and the wind to strengthen me each day, to blow away the cobwebs, the dead grasses, and to carry the seeds of change and renewal into beautiful growth. 

Six months ago I was coming through a long period of uncertainty, at a time when every day seemed to bring me some great challenge to overcome. There were days I felt a nervous anticipation as I left the calm peaceful sanctuary of my bedroom, albeit with a reluctance to face the day, to face other people, to deal with the storm I was travelling through. The days when it would have been easier to sit in my meditations, to enjoy the peace within, to be surrounded by my own familiarity. I knew then, as I know now, that being a practitioner of mindfulness and meditation means bringing it into the everyday, not just to enjoy, contemplate or experience the moment I choose to be aware of, but to approach negative situations in the same way. To be empowered by the moment itself.

Therefore, the subdued, flowerless meadow reflected a deep part of me that I was only too aware of. In one sense, this meadow looked as though it was dying; however the beautiful reality was that it - as always - is teeming with life through the insects, birds, hedgerows and other wildlife which is reciprocally nurtured by her. Underneath the dull-looking landscape, growth and repair was busy at work, new life was coming into being. The Autumn may have robbed the meadow of her old life, but the Spring would bring renewal, change, growth and beauty. 

I have heard some of my clients or friends ask me how difficult it is for me to be positive, all the time. There is an interesting assumption that, in order to be mindful, we have to see only the good things, to ignore the negative stuff.If we were all to do that, then not only would we be resisting the change, but we would be stifling the beauty which arises from going within to the baron meadow. To explore the mud, the dead grasses, to clear them and plant the new seeds to enjoy the growth, to allow change and beauty to shine through. To learn to accept the hard times, deal with them, then let go.

I'm not always positive. I have days when the world seems muted, when I feel as though I am in a void of negativity. Instead of succumbing to it, though, I plough my way through, examining, weeding, digging deeper to find the growth. All negative experience can teach us so much about our relationships with ourselves, as well as others, and of the experience itself. Sometimes it may seem not so much a meadow, but more of a swamp: a soupy, gloopy mess of stuff to sort through. But even swamps have life and growth. 

Yesterday I visited the meadow for the first time in a while. She was proudly resplendent in cowslips and emerging clover. Showing off her beauty, the cowslips gently waved to me in the Spring breeze, like a crowd cheering on their team. Incessant chattering from the birds in the hedgerows, coupled with the quiet buzz of curious insect life existing happily amongst the floral landscape, non-judgementally shared the moment with me. For a while I lay on my tummy as I photographed this cowslip. The ground felt warm and comforting. I felt invited and welcomed. I felt life around me, within me. The meadow seemed to be smiling with me, affirming with me that I too had grown since Autumn, that I too was teeming with opportunity for further growth, change, and that I am starting to bloom. 

As the saying goes, "change is the only constant in life". 

Nikki Harman is a mindfulness tutor to adults and children. Contact her at innerspaceproject1@gmail.com or visit www.innerspaceproject.com

Mindful School

Me, speaking about mindfulness and getting students involved in mindful activities at the school

I've been teaching mindfulness to the year 11's in my local school, in preparation for their exams. Starting in February just before half term, I've been going in once a week to offer optional mindfulness sessions, given scripts and information to key staff for use during the week, and have been seeing students individually. I have also started lunchtime mindfulness to the teaching staff.
I have been auditing the sessions, which have shown improvements in the students. I am looking forward to going through the questionnaires the students and staff regularly fill in, but already there are significant improvements, particularly in anxiety levels - across both groups.
I am very happy to work in primary and secondary schools/colleges. Please get in touch to find out more!

Nikki Harman
innerspaceproject1@gmail.com
www.innerspaceproject.com

The Mindful Handshake

The Mindful Handshake is intended as a greeting to ourselves: it is though we are are shaking our hand to make contact with how we are feeling in a given moment. It can be used at any time, but particularly if fears or anxiety are becoming out of control.
To carry this out, please trace one hand with the index finger of the other, starting with the thumb, moving slowly and mindfully to each digit on the hand, using the following as your guide (remembering that the guide is within):


If you're unable to work through each digit, just pick one to focus on

Thumb: Think, "Am I becoming under the thumb (negative thoughts are beginning to take control of this moment)? Am I starting to become controlled by doubts, worries or fears?"

Index Finger: Point out the facts of the moment. What is true right now? Look for the good points as well (Look for the positives as well as seeing the negatives)

Middle Finger: Sit on the fence: observe what is happening to you, within you and around you

Ring Finger: Listen out for alarm bells - fears, doubts worries creeping in - see them, feel them, thank them, then "ringfence" them. Let these go

Little Finger: One little step at a time. Moment by moment

Palm: Palms up - what we give out, we receive. In other words, if we perceive everything in a negative light, then we are more likely to respond negatively to what's happening in any given moment.
Avoid "crystal-ball gazing" to predict an outcome, which we can do in times when we are anxious or worried about something. It can be easy to let the negative thoughts take control of our perceptions of an event. Be aware of this, so that you can check in with yourself and ask yourself what is happening right in the moment.

Fingerprints: What is in our nature? What are the habits we have learned? What can or cannot be changed?


Important: This is intended as a guide only. If you are experiencing anxiety or fears which feel like they are happening more often than you would normally experience; or if you are feeling that you cannot control these emotions, or yourself, friends or family are becoming concerned about your emotional well-being, please make an appointment with your GP. 

Enough Is Enough: knowing when to stop

Look at the photo above. Isn't it a beautiful view? I took it last week, during a walk with my two children. We were planning to go to Old Harry, on the Jurassic coast, then head into Studland to catch the bus back home.

We packed a picnic, lots of water (but as it turned out, not enough), a camera, and our sense of adventure. Seemingly intact, we left home and made our way along the beach.

We hadn't even made it to the bottom of the road before my 11 year-old daughter began to complain. Actually, we had had a morning of everything being not quite right in my daughter's world. I had tried to enter into her space, to try to help lift her out of her sense of irritation and negativity. She didn't want to invite me in, though, so she remained where she was, and I hovered around the outside, hoping for a free pass, or at least the offer of connection.

I kept things upbeat: "what a beautiful day it is!" (it is the SATs season: both children are sitting them this term and so I can almost confidently assume I have learned to use the recently-controversial SpAG exclamation mark correctly) I repeated, smiling, nudging and hugging both children. "We are so lucky to live here. Let's enjoy the day". My remarks were met with "I'm hungry and thirsty. When can we stop to eat?" We had only just left home, being fully watered before we set foot out of the door.
We decided to stop after we had walked for half an hour. In that time, we made one toilet stop, a water bottle refill, a rucksack adjustment and two shoe-lace re-ties, scattered with cries of "I'm hungry!", "My feet hurt" (what, already?), "When can we stop?" and "My eyes hurt". I confess that I uttered at least two of these statements. My 7-year-old was buying into the sense of adventure, but my 11 year-old was still in her own space, to which we were neither invited to join nor a party to, but rather the sounding boards for her irritation.

We enjoyed our lunch whilst admiring the view overlooking Swanage bay, on a bench which seemed to have jumped forward a few feet since we had last visited it; actually it was due to cliff erosion which had reduced the distance between the bench and the cliff edge. We had a lovely lunch, the mood lifted and we joked about being "hangry".

After a while we continued on the path up towards the top of the hills. Things were going well until my daughter felt she couldn't continue up the steep steps. I patiently encouraged her to carry on, one step at a time, but after another 10 minutes of complaining, bickering with her brother and getting cross with the steps, I felt it was time to stop. I tried to explain that it was OK to find it difficult...that not everything is easy nor intended to be, that the pain and difficulty we can experience can often end up giving us a completely new view and experience. After another round of sibling conflict I decided that enough was enough, so we turned round and walked back down the hill.

The lessons for me?
I have learnt that sometimes, it's easier to quit whilst I'm ahead. I learnt that the view we had on the midway point of the big scary hill will still be there to re-visit another day. Some days are meant for just climbing half-way up the hill, which is the successful point - that getting to the top of the hill isn't always the indicator of success.

I have learnt that my daughter was able to articulate her feelings because she felt safe and listened to, and because she is strong-willed in her own ways, which I am honour-bound as a parent and as a woman to listen to and respect. She is strong, fit, healthy and persistent: so the fact that she was telling me she couldn't do this walk to the top of the hill and beyond was an indicator of her own strength in admitting to herself and to the world outside her own space that "enough is enough".
I have learnt that my own projection of failure to meet my goal for the day (to get to Old Harry, walk into Studland and catch the bus home) to my children is not helpful for them or for anyone; and I have also learnt that I too felt that "enough is enough" when I caught myself spiralling into negative self-talk and buying into the cortisol-adrenalin mix that was swirling around me in the past week or so prior to this walk.

The view: oh what a beautiful view! The ability to see with clarity, to understand and gain an alternative vista had lifted me out of my head and into a beautiful possibility to turn things around from a negative into a positive.

To know is to understand, but to feel is to reach within the depths of empathy, compassion and sample the richness of experience from a higher perspective.

If we can accept that there is not always a right answer, a right way to do something, that things can go wrong; if we give ourselves permission to make the mistakes, then we can learn something beautiful from them.

Litter Picker

As I was driving up the road in Swanage today, I came across a huge pile of what looked like sugar lumps, but was actually polystyrene. I was in a bit of a hurry, as this weekend is a bit busy. I hesitated: should I stop to pick it up, or should I carry on?

I decided to stop to pick it up. The cubes of polystyrene were strewn across the road, being blown about by the sea-breeze, less than 200 metres away. I knew that collecting the rubbish was the right thing to do. After all, around 44 percent of sea-birds eat plastic, and polystyrene absorbs water so that it sinks to the bottom of the sea, meaning these and other plastic-derived pollutants are prevalent in our oceans. Well done, clever humanity, for polluting our oceans and aquatic life...

What does this mean to humans? Well, the fish eat the plastics, as well as swim around in plastic-polluted water. People eat fish, who are consuming plastic derivatives. Hmmm. I don't really eat much fish, partly for this reason.

What did surprise me (but perhaps shouldn't have), was that nobody offered to stop to help me pick up the hundreds of polystyrene cubes that someone had left in a nearby car park, presumably for the council to collect (if the wind hadn't dropped it all in the sea, that is). Unfortunately someone had partly driven over the box. forcing it to break up into tiny pieces.

One person did stop to watch me begin picking up the pieces, saying, "Oh dear, that is going to take you a long while, isn't it?!" before he continued his walk into town. It wasn't my rubbish! I was just doing  my bit to look after my lovely little spot in the world, which I would like to keep safe for wildlife and for the residents and visitors who enjoy the sights, the sea, the food...the fish...the plastic...?

So, if you want to consume non-plastic items, if you want your local and greater environment to stay beautiful (or even to begin to do so), please pick up your litter. What's to stop you picking up a piece of someone else's, too? We can also reduce the amount of plastic-wrapped items we buy; manufacturers need to reduce this too.

Practice being mindfully in the moment, as you consider how you are helping others, as well as yourself. Be the change you want to see in the world. Don't leave it up to someone else. We all have that responsibility. We all have the opportunity to help each other and the planet.
Thank you!

"Mindfulness sessions to keep doctors and nurses healthy"

An article in today's Mail Online today reports that NHS England are to offer financial incentives to NHS trusts in order to improve health and well-being of staff.
The focus on improving staff sickness includes targeting mental health, muscular-skeletal problems and obesity by offering a range of programmes, including mindfulness. 
As an NHS nurse I am pleased to see that the well-being of staff is being taken seriously. The NHS is going through a tough period whereby healthcare professionals are feeling the pressure from many different areas. It is taking its toll on all staff who work within clinical and non-clinical roles. 
As a tutor of mindfulness, I am positive that introducing this practice to NHS staff could have a great impact on the mental health of staff. I have drafted a mindfulness programme specifically for clinical staff, which combines my knowledge, qualifications and practice as a mindfulness and meditation practitioner, and from my experience and observations as a nurse with 23 years of clinical experience. I am keen to roll it out to NHS trusts to see how it could impact staff well-being, and how it can benefit patients, both indirectly and through teaching mindfulness techniques to patients, as well.

Nikki Harman is a mindfulness tutor to adults, a Connected Kids™ children's mindfulness tutor; and a registered nurse, working within an NHS trust. visit www.innerspaceproject.com, or contact Nikki at innerspaceproject1@gmail.com