It was snowing again this morning when I got up and I decided to take Lydia out straight away, in case it settled and the roads became impassable.
I put two layers of gloves on, a thermal pair underneath a fingerless pair, and my hands felt significantly less cold than they had the day before.
Lydia wore her raincoat again and we had a short walk in a field that I call ‘Quiet Field’ because I used to take her to it regularly when I needed somewhere that was fairly guaranteed to be away from the sight of other dogs.
The snow was still coming down and I was conscious of not wanting to be stuck on a hill on the way home.
I needn’t have worried as the snow stopped as we left the field and the day brightened up from there.
Lydia and I had another walk in the afternoon to make up for our shorter than usual one in the morning.
Taking on board some learning from last night’s Buddhist group meeting, I started to read again a book that I previously read some time ago: ‘How to Transform Your Life’ by Venerable Geshe Kelsang Gyatso Rinpoche.
I also made some notes, to help with recall, and it felt good to be able to read again, as I haven’t been able to for a while.
So, all in all it’s been a good Thursday, rounded off with a Chinese takeaway – delivered – for me and Trev.
I also bought some new treats for Lydia to try, doing a bit of shopping on my way to a yoga class.
Just relaxing in front of the telly now. And tomorrow is another day.
It wasn’t an uneventful walk for me and Lydia this morning as we saw several dogs and a horse from a distance, all with owners – or, in the case of the horse, with its rider.
I thought at one point the horse and rider were going to be heading our way, which would have meant me seeking a quick diversion from their path, down into a ditch, then up and out the other side. Thankfully, they turned in a different direction, perhaps after having heard Lydia’s initial reaction of barking on sight of them.
Lydia still struggles on sight of dogs as well as horses and I still struggle to find a way of reassuring her. She gets the principle of not reacting but just finds it hard to put it into practice. I think this is something that many or most of us struggle with, one way or another.
Putting Buddhism into practice was a key theme of the weekend course I’ve just been on. So, I’ll just keep doing what I can, reflecting and hopefully learning.
As it’s Tuesday I went to visit my friend who used to live in the village but now lives in a care home. As usual, she greeted me with a warm smile, leading me to feel very welcome.
Coming home, I do a few things that I need to do in the kitchen, give Lydia her tea, then start preparing ours.
I’ve made up a sauce based on a pasta dish that I enjoyed when I visited Rome quite a few years ago. I remember it had mushrooms, ground pistachios and, I think, bacon. I’ve also included garlic and onion.
I used a food processor to chop the mushrooms up very very finely so that they are almost ground like the pistachios. I’ve seasoned with lots of freshly ground black pepper, a good splash of Worcestershire sauce, some soy sauce and half a stock cube.
It’s tasty and I’m hungry so time, I think, to start boiling some water for the pasta.
I don’t think we have enough spaghetti so I’ll use fusilli which should also help to absorb the sauce and flavour.
It seems fitting to start this latest cycle of writing on a Mental Health Monday. So, it was a walk with Lydia this morning, yoga and Qigong this afternoon.
Over the last couple of weeks, I’ve been busy with work on the house, doing some decorating, and I’m now starting on a phase of going round, room by room, clearing, cleaning, sorting.
Just as well then, that I’ve given myself a recharge boost with a weekend at the Buddhist Centre, with teachings and meditation sessions included as part of the course. I’ve also arranged to volunteer at the Centre one afternoon a week, which is an opportunity to put some skills and experience to good use, learn new things and meet new people.
For now, then, I’ve got a good complement of different activities and interests during the week, without being too structured or rigid and with plenty of time to rest or do other things as they arise. I know I’ll want and need to review what I do at some point in the future as I look for new challenges and further growth, but I’ve got what I hope is a reasonable balance for the time being.
I continue to reflect on how fortunate I am to have my health, fitness and circumstances to be able to do what I do.
Thankfully, also, Lydia is fit and healthy too.
We’ll keep walking and working together and I’ll keep writing. They’re all good things to do.
My relationship with food has historically been a difficult one.
As a teenager I went on a strict diet – mostly made up of cottage cheese, crispbread, lean meat and fruit – to keep me at 7/71/2 stone. That was the only way I could feel reasonably good about myself and my body.
Even so, I didn’t think anybody could possibly find me attractive, and I struggled with a very limited life.
If I ever did ‘let go’ and start to eat anything even remotely fattening, my mood plummeted as my weight gained. The only way I could cope was to start restricting my eating again. I had no concept that help or support of any kind might be available; it was a very private and lonely struggle that went on until my mid-40s. After an almost catastrophic catalogue of failed relationships and career stalemate I realised that I had to push through the internal barriers, and keep going until I came out the other side.
20 years on, at 66, I believe I have finally arrived at that point.
I weigh five stone more than I did in my teens, and though I am aiming to steadily lose some weight this won’t be my starving myself – not just of food, but of life.
There are many factors and influences that have helped me to get through, not least in recent years that of my partner, Trev, who makes me feel beautiful just as I am, inside and out. That’s a great gift to get at any age!
I’ve taken on board Buddhist teachings of all kinds, with one fundamental phrase being an enduring fallback: “The mind is a muscle and it can be changed.”
I’ve had to fight and work hard to train and change my brain and was fortunate to find the fight associated with a strong survival instinct when I needed it.
That isn’t to say that I haven’t had moments of self-loathing that threatened to be overwhelming. But I kept looking for and finding ways to be positive, including reaching out to others who were also struggling in the extreme.
I still won’t try clothes on in a shop changing room, and feel no need to put myself through that ordeal. So, while this may be evidence of ‘avoidance’ lingering in my psyche, it’s a minor issue as far as I’m concerned, and doesn’t get in the way of me living my life in a full way, including enjoying delicious food.
When I went through a major breakdown in my late thirties, one of the many things I struggled to come to terms with, as I fought my way back to functionality, was the sense of all the ‘wasted time’ that had gone into building a life that at that stage had come to ‘nothing’.
Roll on more than a quarter of a century, and I’ve had a significant shift in mindset. As each day unfolds, I feel a strong sense of being gifted with it; of having all the time in the world. ‘Making the most of it’ can mean anything I want it to mean, whether that be resting, walking, making something out of clay, washing up, doing housework, doing nothing.
So, how did I get from where I was to where I am now?
I’m not sure, because it’s all a bit of a blur, but I know I’ve done a lot of meditating, a lot of searching, a lot of turning myself inside out, of fighting the thoughts that threatened to pull me into despair, a lot of reaching out, falling, getting up again and trying something else.
Sometimes the last push is the hardest and coming to terms with things that I couldn’t change took some doing. At around the same time that I had a counsellor who was determined to avoid the key issues that I needed to address, I came across a Buddhist teaching that helped me enormously: https://madhyamaka.org/how-to-accept-what-cant-be-changed/.
The lingering sadness associated with not having been able to form a family of my own has taken a different turn recently, in the form of a furry friend. She’s not a baby; she’s an adult dog. However, she’s done something to my heart that’s filled a gap I never thought could be filled. Time isn’t about what’s past or ‘lost’, it’s about being here and now, with my partner, and our dog.
Tonight’s Buddhist class completes the five-week course on ‘Embracing Change’.
Change can happen in so many ways, on so many levels.
In my experience, I have not always known why I have not been able to ‘let go’ and move on at times. I think, now, I have more insight into why, and it’s because of the deep inner healing that I needed to do. It’s understandable to want to do that in a safe way, at a safe time, so that when the wound is exposed, it won’t be subject to any more damage.
Sometimes, however, circumstances force us to push through pain on a survival basis. How amazing then, to be in those circumstances and somehow find that you have got access to the support that you need to heal, from sources that in the past you could not have even imagined existed, yet somehow, they do. That’s where I’m at now.
And, for now, I’m just going to keep doing what I’m doing; different things on different days. Today it was painting, white emulsion on walls; tomorrow I’ll go to pottery in the afternoon. Walking Lydia, of course, in the mornings, is such a good thing, I’m pretty sure for both of us. Meditating, practising yoga and Qigong, listening to the teachings of Buddha passed on through the Kadampa lineage. Meeting up with friends, chatting with neighbours. More painting of walls until that job is done, then I’ll move on to do something else. I know this is all leading to further change, and I am becoming more able to embrace the uncertainty of what lies ahead.
The theme for tonight’s Buddhist meeting – as it will be for the next few meetings – is ‘embracing change’.
I’ve been doing my best to ‘change my mind’ for a long time. It’s a slow process, for me, but one that I’m committed to. I listen, I meditate, I reflect and, one way or another, I change.
I hope – pray – that the process of change is also bringing about healing. I think it is.
Our usual teacher is away, so the teaching is given by a nun from the Centre.
We meditate on death and impermanence, which may sound morbid, but acknowledging and facing the inevitability of death does make sense to me, and I listen intently.
I don’t feel I have to fully understand and remember everything that I hear, and I certainly don’t. My powers of recall are not that good, and it is a process of gradual assimilation anyway.
There was a lot of emphasis on being able to let go of attachments that we acquire and accumulate in this life. I’ve not necessarily been that good at acquiring and attaching but then I’ve historically not been very good at letting go either.
After greeting me when I got home, Lydia has now settled down to sleep, on her favourite rug. She looks totally adorable and relaxed.
I’ll just sit for a while before I too settle down for the night.
I don’t need to set an alarm for tomorrow morning – we can just sleep as long as we want to and get up when we’re ready. Luxury!
With no Qigong this afternoon, it’s the woodland walk for Lydia and me this morning, then yoga. Lydia often partakes in this remotely, being particularly good at ‘downward facing dog’!
The yoga teacher introduced a new exercise aid to the class: conkers. They formed a focus for our meditation and visualisation and I must say I enjoyed the experience of familiarisation with the seed of the chestnut tree. It was somehow comforting and inspiring at the same time.
As I now complete this latest 28-day cycle of writing, I reflect on how far I’ve come, not just since I started writing this blog in 28-day cycles a few months ago, but since I started my overall journey of recovery over fifty years ago, when I was still very young.
I didn’t know it at the time, but it essentially started in my teens, when I decided that I needed more than physical food in my life.
That may sound ungrateful as I know there are many people in the world who have less food than they need to survive. But my needs for nourishment were psychological, emotional and spiritual. They were very real for me and presented in the forms of social anxiety, depression, body dysmorphia and an eating disorder. That’s a lot for any teen to have to deal with and I hope that in writing about my experiences, it may help others to not have to go through the same.
It’s taken me a long time to work out what I needed to work out, to find pieces that I didn’t have reference points for. How could I know what I’d lost when I had no memory of having it in the first place?
For whatever reason – probably survival – my emotional brain closed down, and it’s taken me a lifetime to find ways of opening it up again. I’m still working on it, with Lydia’s help and a lot of help and support from a lot of other people along the way.
The most significant latest step for me is on the path presented by the Buddhist faith. It helps me to make sense of a lot of things, accept what I can’t change, and do my best to make the most of each day as it comes, recognising the value of what I have when for so long I was focused on what I didn’t have. Grief doesn’t go away, but we can grow to encompass a wider experience of life around it. That’s what I’ve been doing my best to do.
As I now take a couple of weeks break from writing a new daily blog, I’ll continue with republishing previous posts, looking back a bit before again moving on.
The paperback versions of my two latest books – ‘Rules, Rhymes, Recovery, Recipe, Random: Glad About Life’ and ‘A Woman, a Dog and a Blog: Writing into Life’ will shortly be available on Amazon, along with the Kindle and Kindle Unlimited editions:
‘Rules, Rhymes, Recovery, Random: Glad About Life’ brings together over 60 blog posts, from March 2020 through to September 2024.
It offers personal insights into the mental health recovery journey, recognising that there are no easy answers or quick fix solutions to complex problems but demonstrating that growth is possible through whatever difficulties life presents.
‘A Woman, a Dog & a Blog: Writing into Life’ presents a summary of my own backstory and that of my dog, Lydia. We had both experienced trauma before we met and, though I effectively rescued and adopted her, in many ways she has also rescued and adopted me.
We continue our journey together, day by day, step by step. Volume I of this book presents the first cycle of me writing a post a day for 28 days, at a time when the depression I had experienced most of my adult life had started to lift, only to reveal an underlying and extreme – at the time – sense of anxiety. Having lost everything that I’d worked for in the past, due to a severe breakdown in my thirties, I was absolutely petrified that history was going to repeat itself and that I would lose everything again, including Lydia. I was determined that wouldn’t happen and I drew on every aspect of resourcefulness and resilience I’d built up, and all the support mechanisms I could muster, to make sure that it didn’t. And it hasn’t.
Volume II presents the next 28 days of continuing to work with – and write about – positives in whatever way that I can. Affirmations, exercises, working with clay, working with words, walking, reflecting, resting, meditating – they’re all in there as I find my own way through and I hope it may help others find their way too.
When I wake this morning I hear the sound of rain, and my thoughts go to the reminder that has come through the Buddhist teachings: welcome wholeheartedly whatever. I also think of RARE: recognise, address, reduce and eliminate delusional thoughts.
I’ve always liked the sound and feel of rain and generally been an all-weather girl, providing I’ve been wrapped up to face the elements or under cover to relish being cosy and dry. I have loved this long summer though, with the warm and sunny weather that we’ve had and thought I would miss it more than I am doing.
After a cup of tea, a recitation of the meditation prayers to myself (I don’t feel up to chanting them out loud at the moment, not when I’m on my own, anyway), and a meditation followed by the Liberating Prayer*, Lydia and I get ready to go out.
It’s a later start than usual, still damp outside and as we start our walk there is some very fine rain. Not enough to make me wish I’d worn a hood or anywhere near enough to persuade Lydia to wear her raincoat. She really doesn’t like to wear a raincoat and I only persist in getting her to wear one if it is particularly cold and icy. Today it is still warm and the rain holds off as we walk.
It’s quiet, with only a dog walker who I regularly see passing by in her van. I wave, Lydia starts to lunge, I ask her to sit, and she does. What a clever girl. She is doing so well.
Back home, after putting her bag of ‘poopie’ in the bin, I wash my hands and give Lydia her breakfast in her food ball. Before I have my breakfast, I put some dry washing away and put some more in the machine. It’s good to keep on top of housework and doing a bit at a time works for me. I’m not a domestic goddess but I do like a clean house, even if it’s not clean all over all the time. I do it on a sort of rota basis as I concentrate on other priorities. There’s a part of me that wishes I could be motivated to go round the house with a duster every day but I’m not.
Lydia tries to get me to give her some more food but I resist. I do, however, take a bag of cooked chicken pieces out of the freezer, to give her as a surprise treat later when they’re defrosted. For now, she’s lying just a couple of yards away, watching me type and looking very relaxed.
It’s just the two of us at the moment as Trev’s away visiting places in the UK that I don’t want to visit. It’s Corfe Castle for him today. For me it’s the Buddhist class tonight.
Quite where I would be if I hadn’t had access to these teachings, I don’t know, except that I think I do, and it wouldn’t be a good place. Thankfully, I am in a good place and I’ll keep working at it to keep it that way.
My thoughts turn to a friend who introduced me to Buddhism many years ago. He’s not in a good place at the moment so I hold him in my thoughts for a while and hope that he soon is.
Today I woke feel rested at a very deep level; I could feel another shift, slowly but surely in a positive direction. It doesn’t matter how slow; a small shift is a shift nonetheless.
Yesterday, after a short meditation combined with a cup of tea, I had a lovely walk with Lydia, a long lunch with a friend, did a bit – just a bit – of domestic activity in the afternoon, went to the Buddhist class in the evening and then, back at home, watched a couple of episodes of ‘Married at First Sight: Australia’. I also enjoyed, while watching the telly, a glass of red wine and some of the delicious houmous that Trev had made earlier. A bag of cheese puffs rounded off the day nicely.
The themes of MAFSAU and the Buddhist class were the same: happiness. It’s what we all seek, and we look for it in different ways in different places.
The Buddhist teachings tell me that happiness naturally arises from a calm and peaceful mind. I now take this on faith and continue to do my best to put the teachings – including the meditation techniques – into practice. This doesn’t mean that I have to deny myself all worldly pleasures, just recognise that they have their limits and are not a lasting source of happiness. This is what I now believe.
Though a slow process, my ongoing programme of wellbeing activities does seem to be working.
Although I could readily have gone back to bed this morning, after a walk with Lydia through the woods, I felt energised enough to start writing this blog, to check in with Trev, to confirm that I’d make a cottage pie later for tea, and to take my time to let the rest of the day unfold. I’m booked in to a yoga class later. Tomorrow I’m going to the races but I don’t need to rush to do anything much more today.
I used to feel that I was falling short by not being able to build up and maintain a momentum. I now recognise that if slow is the momentum that works for me, then slow is the momentum I’ll work with.
Glad About 
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