One of my bowls, featured on a friend’s windowsill
Yesterday’s combination of walking, yoga and Qigong worked well as I had a restful evening and a good night’s sleep.
I did wake up at around 3am when dawn was already breaking and the birds were already singing. Listening to the birds, the sound of the wind and what was at one point quite heavy rain, I fell back to sleep and woke feeling refreshed, ready to make the most of today.
It’s been a good start so far.
Lydia and I have had a wild and wonderful walk, with the weather warm and slightly breezy. The sun came out too.
It’s a Tuesday, so I’ll go and visit my friend in the village this afternoon. I go every Tuesday, for a couple of hours in the afternoon. We usually go out for a stroll, if the weather’s OK. More fresh air! More exercise!
Lydia is outside enjoying some sunshine now.
I’m going to start making arrangements for my latest pots to be fired.
I don’t have a kiln at home – yet – but I do know someone who runs a firing service. We arrange a time and a place around mid-way between her home and mine, for drop-off and pick-up. She provides a very good service; takes the greatest care.
I have plenty of time before the next planned event for selling my wares – the Aldborough & Boroughbridge Show:
Consolidation is going to be a theme for me, going forward, for the foreseeable. I’m not quite sure as yet what form the process of consolidation will take, or what forms my pots may take, but process and pots will take form, one way or another.
Today I’ve had a walk/yoga/Qigong combo: great for physical and mental health.
The Policy paper, Major conditions strategy: case for change and our strategic framework Updated 21 August 2023 (www.gov.uk), includes reference to Musculo Skeletal (MSK) Health:
What the data tells us and our existing commitments
MSK conditions affect people across the life course and cover a range of conditions, including conditions of MSK pain such as osteoarthritis, back pain and fibromyalgia, osteoporosis and inflammatory conditions such as rheumatoid arthritis and spondyloarthritis.[footnote 48]
Prevention, early detection and treatment can enable people to live in good health, remain independent and connected to the community, reduce the pressure on health and social care services and support people with MSK conditions to thrive in work.
Reducing the risks
There are multiple risk factors that can heighten people’s susceptibility to MSK conditions. These include living in an area of high deprivation, older age, being a woman, having a mental health condition, and genetic predisposition.[footnote 49]
There are also many modifiable risk factors that include physical inactivity, living with overweight or obesity, diets deficient in vitamin D or calcium, and smoking.[footnote 48] For a high number of MSK conditions, secondary prevention will also be effective.
Everything around us – and underfoot – is green
I’m doing my bit in reducing the risk to myself, with my commitment to physical activity of various kinds.
The crops in the field, either side of the narrow path that leads to the woodland walk for Lydia and me, are continuing to grow. They are now up to waist height on me. That doesn’t mean they are particularly tall, because I’m not, but they are doing well and hopefully will flourish.
Lydia is a bit ‘tuggie’ this morning, so I do a few about turns. There is a moist warmth arising from the path. Everything around us – and underfoot – is green.
We’re out for over an hour, at a steady pace. I enjoy my walk in the wood. With the amount of sniffing she does, I feel confident that Lydia does too.
Returning home, we both have our breakfasts and then I rest for a while before going out to my yoga class. The class on this day lasts for one-and-a-half hours, and I feel like I’ve had a good workout by the end of it, building up muscle strength and developing flexibility.
After yoga I drive straight on to Qigong, a journey of about 20 minutes. I arrive early and sit outside on a wall for a while. It’s warm, not hot, and there is a gentle breeze.
I speak with the Qigong teacher, Sue, and we reflect on why – with all its health benefits – Qigong is still not that well known and more widely practiced. We don’t really have any answers, but I am just very glad that I do go to classes and I do get the benefits.
The current group of three Qigong lessons – of which this is the second – is concentrating on ankles and shoulder blades. We are slowly building up to a lovely movement known as ‘Cloud Hands’.
By the end of the class I feel ‘lighter’ in head and body. A lot of tension has gone. Not all of it, by any means, but a lot. I am hopeful of a good sleep tonight.
As I write, my beautiful girl is crunching her way through a dental chew.
The chew is bone shaped. I did quite a lot of internet searching to find out about different brands, and this is one of the brands that got the best reviews. She has good teeth, and I want to help her to look after them.
I’ve struggled a bit with looking after my own teeth in the past.
I previously wrote a blog post about this, and about other aspects of self-care within the context of mental distress:
At that time, there was a mental health update strategy in progress with a claim that mental health would be included in an overall ‘major conditions’ strategy that will focus on ‘whole-person care’.
There is now a Policy paper ‘Major conditions strategy: case for change and our strategic framework’ (Updated 21 August 2023) that includes common mental health conditions and severe mental illness (SMI).
There is some reassurance in the reference to reducing risks earlier in life, and it is also noted that:
“… access to physical healthcare is particularly important for people with SMI. The NHS LTP sets out a transformation programme to develop integrated models of care and holistic support closer to home. The major conditions strategy will outline how to do more to implement physical health support across mental health pathways.”
So, there’s a long way to go but at least there does seem to be some movement in the right direction, hopefully for future generations and hopefully for some people sooner than that.
In the here and now, I continue with my own strategy to manage my health and wellbeing, relying on only minimal, but still welcome, support from the system in the form of anti-depressant medication.
However, I do have access to other forms of support, that make all the difference to me in the context of my life. These take human and canine form. They are, of course, my friends, including Lydia.
With her, I am out every day, walking, enjoying fresh air and steady exercise. I have, with her, companionship and company. Good company.
My friends are amazing – they are rallying for me at a time when I am struggling emotionally.
I am still struggling with anger; have just come back from a Buddhist prayer session; have just spoken to a friend on the phone; am writing this. It all helps; having positive outlets for energy and emotions helps. I didn’t have this when I was younger, but I do now.
“I choose to be peaceful and calm. Everything is unfolding as it should.”
I had a lovely visit with friends yesterday. They lifted me.
I was late arriving at their house. There had been a road accident and I struggled to find an alternative route. When I phoned them to let them know about my delay, they made sure that I realised it didn’t matter – they just wanted to see me. This meant such a lot to me.
I rested into most of the rest of the evening on my return home, after giving Lydia her tea.
I’m continuing to feed her all her food by hand, as training rewards, either when we’re out on a walk, or at home for her evening meal.
The big treat for Lydia, as part of her evening meal, is a raw bone. Today it’s a chicken drumstick. She waits for 90 seconds on “stay” and then bounds towards me when I say “here”. Lydia loves her raw bone[1]. It’s a high value treat that provides a really good opportunity to reinforce the training and learning we’re doing together.
Trev went out to buy our tea – fish and chips. We have some great chippies round here. I like mine with curry sauce. He has mushy peas. This is a high value treat for us.
A phone call from another good friend also meant the world to me and I slept with a much easier mind that I’d had the other day.
This morning, I wake around 8am.
At some point during the night Lydia went downstairs to continue her sleep in her favourite armchair. She has a bed in the bedroom which she loves but also loves that chair.
When I go down in the morning to make a cup of tea, she turns from her sleeping position onto her back, with floppy paws.
This is my invitation to tickle her tummy, although these days it’s more of a massage.
I concentrate on her neck, upper arms and chest, rather than her tummy. I’m not a trained masseuse, either human or canine, but I focus on muscles and areas where she might be holding a bit of tension. She makes some soft gurgling noises so I think I must be doing OK. To finish, I take hold of each of her paws in turn and give them a bit of a rub. This will, in turn, help her to feel more comfortable when her paws are being held for claw clipping.
Lydia and I have our woodland walk today.
I do some heel reinforcement work on our walk across the field towards the wood, and the walk itself is easy. I only have to do an occasional turnabout if Lydia starts to tug, but she’s not doing much tugging at all. After a full circuit, I decide to go back and do the walk again, from the other direction.
My right knee, that I’ve had a few problems with recently, is much better.
I’m lucky. At 69 I have no serious physical ailments or infirmities to contend with.
To improve the condition and flexibility of my knees, I’ve been doing some physio exercises that I was taught. I also rub in ‘wear and tear’ lubricating gel, morning and evening, take a good quality multi-vitamin and mineral supplement for joint care, and repeat an affirmation:
“My knee is healing, and getting stronger, each passing day.”
It’s easy to forget, when things are going well, what it’s taken to get to that point.
So, I’ll continue with my maintenance regime, and hopefully continue to enjoy the benefits of healthy knees.
[1] Dogs should never be given cooked bones. Raw bones may not be suitable for all dogs. Consultation should always be made with a qualified canine nutritionist and/or vet.
I received some bad news as a bolt out of the blue, and it hit hard.
It could be argued that I could have foreseen it coming, but I didn’t.
The calm, peaceful mind I’ve been cultivating was suddenly no more. I was angry.
I know anger is a negative emotion, and the teachings of Buddha tell me that it arises from self-cherishing delusions; having more regard for myself and my own needs than for those of others.
I do accept this, in principle. In practice, yesterday my anger arose and was a long time abating.
As I continue to learn how to train my mind – and my heart – anger is something that I need to and will address. I’m going for growth.
Today, on my walk with Lydia, I am still aware of anger. It feels like it is pervading my whole body.
I have concerns that Lydia will pick up on this, but she doesn’t seem to have done.
We are in a quiet spot with no immediate triggers. Lydia is calmer today than she has been on this same walk for some time.
She walks to heel with a loose lead most of the way, and I reinforce this with food rewards and praise.
It rains a little bit but neither of us minds. Then the sun comes out.
I’m going to visit friends this afternoon. It will be another good day. And this time I believe the good feeling will stay, at least for longer than it did yesterday.
The theme of yesterday’s Buddhist teaching was ‘Transforming Adversity’.
It was the first of the latest 4-week course, as an outreach from the Kadampa Madhyamaka Buddhist Centre, near Pocklington.
It only takes me 15 minutes to drive to the Meeting House.
A few years ago, when I was living in Leeds, I drove to Buddhist teachings and meditation meetings in Pickering, a distance of over 50 miles.
I went regularly, almost every week, for about two years, until the classes there stopped.
They helped me a lot those meetings, with the words spoken by the teachers, the benefits of meditation and the experience of a supportive group.
When I started going to the meetings that I go to now, I was in a very bad state mentally.
These meetings have helped me a lot too, to reach the point that I needed to reach, where I am now.
When I first started with my journey of mental health recovery, I was like a drowning person – thrashing about desperately trying to find something to hold on to, so that I didn’t sink. Well, I did find things to hold on to – lifelines – and I didn’t drown.
Now, I feel like I’m waving. I need to keep working at it, to make sure that I keep my head above water, but I’ve learnt a lot in different ways and I keep learning.
Today is a good day.
I take Lydia to a dog field.
Trev and I go out for breakfast.
I meet a friend for coffee.
In my book – literally, in my book – that counts as a good day. A very good day.
This morning, I wake with a sense of unease. I try saying affirmations but can’t settle, and decide to just rest into the feeling. It will pass.
Not so long ago, I felt an almost overwhelming sense of fear; almost but not quite. I drew on all the self-management methods I could muster, and it abated.
I let Lydia out into the back yard earlier.
We’re lucky to have a courtyard-cum-garden which is approximately square in shape, has a seating area, a paved area and some flower beds.
It is low maintenance and has become even lower maintenance since we got Lydia.
Lydia likes to dig.
I decided to not try to stop her digging which means we have big holes in the flower beds.
Even so, or maybe even because of this, we have some self-seeded flowers blossoming – purple foxgloves and yellow Icelandic poppies.
She’s been quiet so far this morning. When I checked on her earlier, she was lying down, looking up at the sky, following the pigeons in flight but not barking at them – not much anyway.
I’m encouraging Lydia to be “quiet”. In doing this I’m following some guidelines from an on-line training resource I bought, that follows the principles of service dog training.
Lydia is approximately 9 or 10 years old. She would have made an amazing service or working dog if she’d been trained from when she was a puppy. She’s responding positively to the training I’m doing with her now, although it’s a slow process. This is just as well, because I’m 69 heading towards 70, and slow suits me, especially as I’m learning too.
Trev heads out to yoga. He’s only just started going to yoga classes, tending to favour the gym, and a swim. It isn’t always easy to learn to do new things with your body and your brain as you get older, but that doesn’t mean it can’t be done.
When I do eventually get out of bed I do a few physio exercises for my knees, then head downstairs.
I talk to Lydia, to let her know that we’re not going out for “w-a-l-k-i-e-s” yet. I’m going to meditate first.
It’s the Buddhist group meeting tonight, but I feel I need to meditate now, so I do.
I don’t have a formal routine for meditating at home.
I sit down in my comfy chair with a cushion supporting my back and my feet on the floor.
I put my hands in the position on my lap as we are taught in the class, and partly close my eyes, letting just a little bit of light in.
Surprisingly – to me – I don’t find it too difficult to concentrate on my breath this morning. I don’t have too many distracting thoughts creeping in. I don’t time my meditation, just do it as long as I want to and can, and then feel ready to go out for our walk.
As is usual now, Lydia waits patiently while I put on her harness and leads. I reward her with a treat, get myself sorted with bag, phone and keys, and then we head for the door.
I ask Lydia to “sit” and “wait” while I open the door. This is all part of our process of learning not to rush, taking things step by step, being calm and not worrying about what may lie ahead.
I take her in the car to the walking place that we’re both most familiar with. We go to this spot at least three times a week, usually mid-week. It provides plenty of opportunity for stress-free walking and stress-free training with occasional but manageable encounters with other dogs.
This morning, we have one such encounter and I apply the techniques that I have been taught by the behaviourist that I recently consulted with.
The distance between us and the other dog and owner are less than they’ve been before, although we still have a couple of grassy banks and a drainage ditch between us.
Lydia does react but she also settles down quite quickly, and we continue on our way. It is progress. We still have a lot of work to do between us, but it is progress.
I’ve brought some pieces of cooked chicken with me today, and we do some “heel” reinforcement work, as well as some repeats of “watch”. We are building up muscle memory, hers and mine. I didn’t learn to respond positively to a lot of frightening and difficult to process situations when I was younger and neither did she. We are on this journey together.
It’s an early start for Lydia and me; she’s going to the groomers.
When I first started taking her for grooming, around 3 years ago, she was very anxious and so was I.
I hadn’t taken a dog for grooming before; I hadn’t had a dog before.
Lydia must have had some previous grooming interventions as her claws were not overly long and her coat, though clearly in need of a good brushing, was not in bad condition.
Even so, there must have been a few pounds of fur on the floor by the end of that session.
We’ve been back every 4 to 6 weeks since, and we have both become steadily less anxious at each visit.
This is at least in part because of the kind, confident, patient approach taken by Vicky, the groomer. Between us we talk to Lydia, reassure her, and I feed her treats while Vicky does the clipping and brushing.
Today, Lydia jumps up on to the grooming table without even having to be asked. Her front and back claws are quickly clipped and Vicky then goes on to brushing and thinning her coat, which is wavy, thick and soft; a beautiful sandy colour with grey undertones.
I’ve put a muzzle on Lydia, just to be on the safe side. She can feed and drink through it, and it helps to make sure that, between us, we can get the job done.
We opted for minimal intervention, right at the start. Lydia doesn’t have a bath or a shower. After half an hour of clipping and brushing she’s had enough. We say our goodbyes to Vicky and head out for our morning walk, to a quiet spot nearby.
Lydia walks to heel with me most of the way, hardly pulling or tugging at all.
We arrive home. Lydi and I have our respective breakfasts. Trev’s already had his.
It’s Tuesday and I’ll visit my friend in the village later. For now, I rest, Lydia rests, Trev rests. He’s going to the gym later but we can all take it easy for a while. We’re retired.
I first heard about affirmations over 30 years ago, when I came across the Louise Hay book, ‘You Can Heal Your Life’. (Hay House, 1984)
Affirmations have helped me in my healing process, although I’ve had to do a lot of other things as well.
The affirmation that I connected with at that time was: “I am the love and beauty of life in all its manifestations.”
I didn’t feel like I was the love and beauty of life in any of its manifestations, but I kept saying it to myself, over and over again.
I’d had some persistent warts on my thumb for years and found no lotions or potions that did anything to get rid of them. They disappeared though, shortly after I started using this affirmation.
Coincidence? Maybe, but I don’t think so. The power of positive thinking is not to be underestimated, in my view. And my view does tend to be aligned with a lot of other views, including those embedded in Buddhist teachings.
During the Covid crisis, my affirmation of choice was, “I choose to be peaceful and calm; everything is unfolding as it should”. Some people laughed at me when I told them about this at the time, but it did help me to stay calm during Covid, even if I did go through some very ‘not so calm’ periods later.
Today, I am saying the Louise Hay affirmation, and also another that I came across online:
“My knee is healing and getting stronger, each passing day.”
I don’t have too much of a problem with my knees, at the moment, but they are a weak point for me, so I do exercises that a physio taught me, take a one-a-day vitamin and mineral supplement for joints, apply some ‘wear & tear’ lubricating fluid that I bought from the chemist, and say the affirmation.
I need my knees to be functioning and flexible so that I can keep walking and working with Lydia.
We go on our woodland walk this morning.
On the narrow path across the field, between growing crops, Lydia’s nose nudges the backs of my knees, but the lead is looser than it was the last time we did this walk. She seems much more relaxed, and this continues as we emerge from the field and start along the grassy path beside the wood. I do a few ‘about turns’ as I need to but she pulls very little. We make our way through the wood, which has a warm dampness about it from yesterday’s rain, heating up now with today’s sun.
At one point during our walk, Lydia looks up at me, mouth open as if she is smiling, and I think that she is telling me that she isn’t as afraid as she used to be. She is still alert to sights, sounds, smells, but she isn’t pulling away from me. I feel like we are more ‘together’ on this walk, today. Every so often I reinforce the “heel” command, using some dried food from her daily allowance, mixed with some treats to give extra value to her reward for being a “good girl”. I haven’t brought cooked chicken with me this morning; I’ll use that tonight when we have our evening training time.
Home and, after giving Lydia the rest of her breakfast allowance in her favourite food ball – which she pushes around with her nose to get access to the dried food pellets that I put inside – I get my own breakfast. It’s a late one and I have a busy afternoon planned.
For much of last year I had what I referred to as ‘Wellbeing Wednesdays’ because I used to take Lydia for a walk first thing, then go to a yoga class, then go for a psychotherapy session at 1pm, then, after taking Lydia out for another walk in the afternoon, go to a Buddhist teaching and meditation session in the evening.
Now I have ‘Mental Health Mondays’, with yoga and Qigong in the afternoon.
Qigong isn’t as well known as yoga, and I find both beneficial for both my physical and mental health. I wrote a blog post about Qigong a while back:
It’s good to be on the receiving end of congratulations, and to feel good about the publication of my book. I used to think that I could never feel good about anything to do with myself again. Now I can, and I do.
When I first started writing this blog I had just retired and it was something that I wanted to do.
I thought it would help me to complete a cycle of mental health recovery that I’d started many years previously, and that in writing about my experiences it might help others too.
I had no idea then just how far away I was from the summit of my recovery mountain, or just how many sheer cliff faces I was going to have to climb to be able to finally enjoy the view.
That was over five years ago.
I found no easy answers but knew that I had to keep going, and I did.
At 69 I have no wish or need now to climb any more mountains, either in my head or with my feet. However, my journey does continue, day by day, step by step, and I will continue to write about it and share it with anyone who is interested.
My new e-book, publishing on Amazon for Kindle 5th June, gives insights into how Lydia, Me & our Family of Three have recently made our final ascent:
‘Train your dog; train your mind – positive reinforcement for humans and canines’
Glad About 
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