How to feel a little calmer while life has some challenges.

At about noon yesterday, as in much of the UK, a storm rolled in.  Living right by the sea, storms never pass unnoticed, they are an event.  There is a sense of "battening down the hatches" to make sure we get through the impending winds.  In our well built cul-de-sac, it usually only means checking the recycling bins are secured.  I checked the high-tide time to see when the highest waves will roll in.  All that can then be done is to wait for its arrival, knowing that it will pass. The timing was perfect as my own emotional storm was simultaneously brewing.  The knot in my stomach that I had for a few days had progressed to a simmering volcano.  Waiting for the latest update about our social distancing rules was already involving a lot of mental and emotional energy.  I am very concerned about relaxing our lockdown rules too early...  It reminded me of the early weeks of this whole pandemic trying to work out what on earth was going on and what to do.  Watching the ten mi

Are you feeling virus-weary?  Me too.  I only heard this term recently and knew that fitted perfectly.  I am tired of thinking about coronavirus, with the endless uncertainties that come with this pandemic.  Writing just days before the UK's planned second "review" I have a knot in my stomach  about pending changes to our lockdown.  After a brief a look at the latest statistics, I feel heavy with sadness.  There are so many questions to ask but for now, I wish for our "curve" to not only be flattened but with many fewer cases.  In fact relaxing lockdown too soon fills me with dread... I am not sure it is safe to do quite yet (and maybe others agree?). I've noticed that before a "review" I start reading more articles and data about coronavirus to work out what could happen next.  Why?  Because uncertainty sits uncomfortably with me and I find sudden changes hard going.  But if I spend time reading too much, it will raise my stress levels and I w

"I'm coping" or "I'm enjoying the bird song and sunshine!" are my standard replies to anyone asking how I'm doing in lockdown.  Is it just me saying these kind of fairly bland answers?  The conversation often moves quickly to sharing how lucky we are to live by the sea in these times.  The most revealing answer I've given (and this is to close friends) is "pretty okay, a few ups and downs".  What on earth is happening to my power of communication? Ah yes, the pandemic.  I'm so aware that all of us are experiencing lockdown with its own struggles that I don't want to "laden" anyone with more details.  Or I'm mindful that as soon as I might try to reveal a concern the gratitude conversation will return - "how lucky we are to be healthy and how much worse it could be".  As someone who recently spent a week writing about gratitude, I get this.  I enjoy heartwarming conversations about the abundance of nature, o

If only relaxing felt easy at the moment.  Relaxing feels like something I have to actually remember to do!  But I can feel a sense of calm return as soon as I engage my parasympathetic nervous system.  To help do this, I am planning some relaxation "boosts" to support me through the ups and downs of the day.  Maybe I'm not super chilled at every moment (I wish) but I can build in chunks of relaxation. Having had two days of painful headaches in the week and back pain that has flared up, I'm feeling a little less robust than normal.  With the headaches and nausea, I found myself thinking maybe this could be the start of the virus?  That led to a few hours of stress hoping/praying that no more symptoms develop.  How I long for the days when I could just have a headache and know that it was hormonal or from too much dark chocolate.  Now it becomes entwined with a pandemic. Definitely time for some calm to return!  First stop for a relaxation boost - I booked a face

I've sneaked in another week on relaxation.  Why?  Because I felt rushed trying to cram relaxing into a single week!  And with two days of painful headaches in the same week as writing about relaxation I wondered if I needed to put this into practice a little more.  I've really enjoyed relaxing in my yoga class or out on a walk by the sea.  I have had some moments of feeling content with this simpler way of life, writing and being out in the garden.  But this peaceful state does not last all day (or all week) and there is more to reflect/improve on... So I turn to the topic of coronavirus and wonder if all the talk/reading/watching is too much for my body or mind?  All the wonderful moments of relaxation that I enjoy could actually be disturbed by half an hour of reading the latest articles? Why would I be so hooked on reading about coronavirus?  Well, we are in the middle of a pandemic and the fourth most affected country right now.  So there's a lot to learn.  At th

Just imagine, a whole day where you don't talk about coronavirus or social distancing at all.  Not one moment of sneaking a look at the latest saddening statistics.  Not one headline.  Nothing. This was my birthday wish, which came true yesterday (Thursday).  I just wanted to feel "normal" and have a happy birthday as my cards say.  Was it easy to stick to?  Yes!  It was a relief to steer away from that topic and engage with the world without coronavirus being invited to my party.  Even a five minute talk or quick internet check can take me ages to digest.  Not on my birthday.  I'm going cold turkey.  My second birthday wish was to have a walk somewhere different from my daily walk by the sea.  I know living by the sea remains a blessing and I can happily stare at the sea for hours each day observing the changing sky and wave patterns.  The seascape however is flat and there are very few trees.  And just for my birthday I want to see greenery and maybe woodland?

Relaxing during a yoga session on Zoom might seem easy, even to those reading who have never rolled out a yoga mat.  But relaxing in my early weeks of trying yoga remotely was tricky.  There is a whole art to working out how to follow instructions on Zoom, especially when my sound quality was so poor I was guessing over half the words.  Added to this, the yoga teacher is about 6cm tall on the screen as opposed to normal in person size.   I nearly abandoned Zoom after two weeks, but in the spirit of kindness for myself and new technology, I persisted. This week a small miracle happened -  I can now hear all the instructions clearly.  A combination of technology adjustments plus long conversations with my partner about things such as bandwidth and slow internet connection.  And the added issue that everyone in the world is now on the internet trying to maintain some kind of work or human connection.  Being able to hear and connect to others for a yoga class or mindfulness group is maki

"We're pretty chilled" I overheard my partner telling a friend on the phone recently.  I laughed so much I nearly choked on my herbal tea.  Chilled would not be the first word that I would use to describe how I feel.  I have taken on our household chores with such seriousness that I have rotas for shopping, cleaning and washing of shopping.  With just one shopping trip a week, using ingredients has started to feel like wartime rationing.  Rather than relaxing for half an hour, I am either ticking things off my list or wiping down door handles.   Slowly I am adapting to our different way of doing things right now.  I can now happily get Zoom to work so I can actually hear the words that are being said rather than trying to guess half of them.  The supermarket visit remains challenging but I am uplifted seeing some empty shelves filling back up with old favourites.  I am so excited to have red lentils, peanut butter and some toilet roll!  Our wonderful Farmers Market and

An hour after I wrote about my deep gratitude for bird song and clean air, I felt tears down my cheeks.  What was I thinking?  How can I write about bird song and clean air when there is real human suffering going on.  People are sick.  Relatives are hoping their precious loved one will pull through. I know what prompted this - a headline I fleetingly saw about care homes and coronavirus spreading.  My dad is a resident of a very pleasant and caring nursing home.  How can I enthuse about beautiful bird song when he could be at risk?  Shouldn't I just sit here on tenterhooks rather than enjoy the blossoming of spring? And then I think of my father.  Right now, I know what he will be doing.  He will be sitting in his room after a filling lunch, looking at the landscaped gardens from his window.  His favourite moment will be spotting the green woodpecker who hops beneath his window on the grass.  Equally exciting is the waddling pair of mallards heading to the nearby river.  He e

Something else is happening around us.  We can hear bird song.  Nature is breathing more freely with the 80% reduction in road and air traffic in many countries.  Cities that are normally choked in polluted air are experiencing Alpine like air quality.  Wild animals are venturing further into urbanisations so that coyotes have been seen on the Golden Gate Bridge in San Fransisco and sheep roam into towns in Wales.  Endangered hawksbill sea turtles hatch safely on a deserted beach in Brazil.  Our native badgers, hedgehogs and deer will be much safer with less traffic by their fragile homes. The on-going stresses and challenges of life in lockdown remain.  This time is infused with illness and loss and is incredibly hard for so many.  Alongside this very real and serious human crisis, is it possible that the global collective "pause" could teach us something?   The reduction in air pollution for the planet fills me with relief and gratitude.  These tiny signs of our planet he

Gratitude seems to be flourishing right now.  At a national level there has been our collective recognition of gratitude for the wonderful NHS.  We know it has imperfections and limitations, but I am every day grateful for having an NHS system where each of us will be cared for if needed.  And I am grateful for every courageous worker who braves it on the front line.  For someone who struggles to get to the Coop once a week, what they are doing each day is incredible.  Thank you.  Thank you.  Thank you. I wondered if it was "right" to choose gratitude for this week knowing that there is such a serious health situation going on close to home?  But this is the paradox of living alongside more suffering and uncertainty than we are used to: it makes us grateful for the things that we do have.  Maybe in the normal busyness of life we can take many aspects of our lives for granted.  Perhaps it is exactly this uncertainty, scarcity or loss that opens up our hearts a bit wider.

When did shopping for food become so difficult?  Oh yes, around the time the toilet roll started to run out (where did it all go I still wonder?).  Being a considerate shopper, I didn't buy any extra supplies.  So the emptier shelves that have followed have felt worrisome.   Getting enough to eat feels more like an epic mountaineering experience rather than popping to the shops. On my daily walk by the sea life can for a time feel relatively normal.  Spring is blossoming and the sunshine is a tonic. Approaching my local supermarket feels far from normal.  The empty High Street feels eerie and the spaced out queues of people at doorways are still a shock. Trying to navigate around aisles and people at a safe distances is a logistical challenge.  Unless I actually dive into the chilled vegetable section I can't get the 2m clearance! Woven in is the constant thoughts of what have I touched that could have coronavirus lurking on packaging?  To be honest, I'm ready to impl

We all know the reasons for social distancing/isolation and seen the adverts.  The stories and statistics are deeply sobering and worthy of every ounce of our collective effort.  It's something we have to do right now.  Many millions of us round the world are in this together.    And when I reflect on Ahimsa (yoga term for do no harm) we are all acting from the highest good for others and ourselves. Social distancing across continents is an incredible thing to do and takes super human effort. But social distancing isn't easy.  Out on my daily walk, any brief word from a distance seems to consist of people saying they are "fine".  In that typically British stoic way.   I have curiously heard  (on Zoom/phone) of people quite enjoying this enforced break.  And I started to wonder, is it just me struggling with this? And then the words of Brene Brown (vulnerability researcher) started to play in my mind: "We are hardwired to connect with others, it’s what gives

Kindness seems to have become abundant right now.  I'm sure it was there from the start of this Coronavirus outbreak but in my slightly stressed struggling to adapt state I wasn't really noticing it. In a crisis situation, apparently there is a third reaction that comes after fight/flight response and that is the drive to help others.  And as social creatures, that makes sense.  We rely on each other for our survival.  Great news for all of us and my theme of kindness. Seeing the video clips of Spanish residents clapping for the health care teams brought tears to my eyes.  In such difficult times, just staying home often doesn't feel like "enough" when the incredible NHS staff plus thousands of others in key worker roles are working flat out. Yet, the small moments of kindness that the rest of us are doing are making our communities feel like more caring places again.  I've started to really notice them and carry out as many as I can. A really simple,