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.
Lydia and I had one of our weekend walks this morning, on a quiet track. It was cold, so I wore a hat. I’d inadvertently shrunk my knitted winter hat in a too-hot wash a couple of weeks back, but I found another in the cupboard to keep my head warm. My cold is on its way out but I still need to keep myself ‘well wrapped up’, as our Mum used to say.
Lydia kept stopping and looking out over the fields at something I couldn’t see, or maybe it wasn’t something she saw either but sensed. Anyway, we had an easy walk which I needed, then back to a warm house – breakfast for both of us and another cup of tea for me.
Strong tea and freshly brewed coffee are daily pleasures for me, but I’m cutting out coffee at the moment, and only drinking tea in the morning. This is to help me establish a better sleep pattern again.
I did a bit of kitchen tidying and cleaning, loading and unloading the dishwasher and mopping the floor, before going back to bed for more rest. I have been very sensible in looking after myself while I’ve had this virus working its way through my body, and I do think that is a strategy that is paying off. It can be a bit frustrating, resting, but I know I need to do it at the moment.
Later it was Trev’s turn to take ‘stuff’ to the tip, which is actually a recycling centre, and very well organised for different types of waste, including a ‘waste to energy recovery’ skip for anything that doesn’t fit the recycling categories, such as wood, metal and so on.
I think we’re only a few tip trips short of a good clear-out now. I have a charity shop run planned tomorrow, and then I’ll buy a pot of paint, to start doing some internal work that needs doing.
Last night, I slept. Not for a full eight hours but for a few hours at least. It broke the cycle of not sleeping that I’ve had for a week or so, and it helps.
With my cold continuing to do whatever it decides to do, I’m beginning to feel a bit better, but still not up to doing more of the garage clearing that I had planned to do today. Another rest day will help me to recover more quickly and put me in a position to do more sooner, rather than later.
Lydia and I had a bit of a longer walk, though, than we had yesterday and, though chilly initially when we set foot outside the door, it turned into a brighter morning while we were out.
On the way home I bought lemons and honey from the shop at the local petrol station, and also sausages, fresh bread rolls and a baguette, so that Trev and I can have brunch when he gets back from the gym. ‘Feed a cold and starve the flu’ is a phrase I heard long ago, and I have no idea if it is true or not but I am doing what I need to do to look after myself.
After I’d given Lydia her breakfast, and while I was waiting for some ginger to release its wonderful reviving and zingy goodness into a saucepan of boiling water, to add to the honey and lemon concoction for my cold, I cut up some cooked chicken drum fillets that I’d put in the fridge overnight and divided them up into bags for the freezer, keeping one bag out for part of Lydia’s tea tonight. The juice I cooked them in had turned to jelly, so she can have that as an extra treat of ‘Lydi juice’ later. This is good nourishing broth for her. It was good nourishing and tasty broth that Trev cooked for our tea last night, in the form of broccoli and Stilton soup. It all helps.
When I first started going to Sue’s Qigong classes, over 15 years ago now, and for a long time since, I struggled with concentrating at times. I could feel a sense of distracting emotional pain – deep seated – that I wanted to avoid feeling. I don’t feel that now.
I am much more present for most of the time during the class now, with only occasional distracting thoughts. That’s not bad, I think, considering the ‘stuff’ that’s going on in my life.
I’ve worked through – felt the pain of – a lot my grief and though I can still feel ‘crap’ going through my system, it does feel like it’s on its way out, slowly softening and dissipating. I know I need to continue to focus on the priorities I’ve been focusing on for some time to promote health and wellbeing; that I’m going in the right direction, even though I don’t know where it’s leading. Providing I can continue to deepen my sense of calm – a sense that is growing although interspersed with periods of not being calm – then I feel confident that we will be OK. I’m working at it – hard, very hard – every day and some days are better than others.
Today I got out of bed earlier than I have been doing recently. It was around 8am rather than the 9.30 ‘target time’ I’ve been setting myself. After a shower, and taking a more mindful approach to getting dressed than I usually do, I went downstairs, had a couple of cups of tea, meditated for a while, then Lydia and I headed out for our walk.
We did the woodland walk again. As I pulled up in the car, I saw the man who owns the small-holding next-door walking across the field towards us, with a black dog on a lead. I haven’t seen him with a black dog before; he used to have German Shepherds. After a brief chat, he introduced me to ‘Bomag’, a rescue, he said, his German Shepherds having now, sadly, passed away.
Lydia and I did just one circuit of the wood today, before heading back for her breakfast and – for me – a welcome cup of coffee. I didn’t have breakfast until a bit later – lemon curd on toast did it for me.
Between yoga and Qigong this afternoon I went to the local tip to drop off the result of my recent cupboard clearing exercise. There’s still a lot of rubbish clearing to be done, especially from the garage, and Trev took a load to the tip today as well.
Qigong today included the movement ‘Eagle soaring in the sky’ which we built up to under Sue’s instructions and demonstrations. I really did feel a bit like a soaring Eagle for a few moments. Those were good moments though.
Home now, Lydia has had her tea, ours is in the oven, and I’m going to finish this post, then sit and savour the evening, cool as it is, with the back door open and my dog nearby. These are good moments too.
Yesterday I ate cake and nothing but cake. But I didn’t eat the whole cake. I had some more for brunch today and there’s still plenty left. It’s just as well, then, that I like cake.
It’s quickly come back round to ‘Mental Health Monday’, with yoga and Qigong each concentrating on areas that I’m glad to have some help with, including joints, back and legs. All good for mind, body and spirit.
Lydia is learning not to bark at the sheep in a field close to where we start our woodland walk. The field that the path to the wood cuts through is planted with a combination of brassicas and legumes that are still in the early stages of growing. I haven’t seen this combination of planting before, and wonder if it will be a crop that matures before winter, or in the spring. We shall see.
Although it is a signed public footpath through the field, I’m careful where I tread, to minimise impact on the crop. At the moment it doesn’t look like it’s getting much traffic other than from Lydia and me, but over the last few years it has been well trod throughout the year.
Lydia spots a squirrel in a tree, but doesn’t seem too inclined to try and chase it. She does sniff and pull a lot through the wood. On the way back, though, she’s more settled. With a bit of encouragement from me, we walk past the sheep and get back to the car. It’s a grey dampish day but thanks to Lydia I’ve had a chance to get some fresh air and exercise, and smell the smells of the earth and the autumn leaves.
Lydia’s enjoying some ‘Lydi juice’ – chicken broth – as the final course for her tea, which has included cooked chicken drum fillets, her main course of BARF[i]-based dried pellets and a raw chicken wing.
Trev is preparing our tea – soup made with some leftovers from earlier in the week plus some additional fresh vegetables and other ingredients, to help keep us healthy. It will also taste good.
It took me a while to work out a diet for Lydia that suited her needs and was practical, and the one we’ve arrived at does seem to work.
I change the flavour of her dried food regularly, because none of us want to eat the same things all the time, and I occasionally change brands. The website ‘www.allaboutdogfood’ offers helpful information with comparisons available for content and cost. I was also fortunate to be given some advice from our local dog food supplier, and I feel confident that Lydia does have a good quality balanced diet which – also important – she enjoys. She is by no means a fussy eater and also enjoys treats such as dental sticks, pieces of carrot, banana, apple, pear and peach.
Trev and I generally have a healthy diet, eating little in the way of processed food and plenty of fresh fruit and vegetables. I’m conscious of keeping my cholesterol intake down and don’t find this difficult at all. Tomorrow, Trev is having a steak while I’m having some salmon. Hardly what I would call ‘hardship’.
We also like our treats and, I think, all the better for being occasional rather than every day. We do have some ice cream lined up for later, and I can feel a nice glass of red wine coming on …
[i] Biologically appropriate raw food; all good quality ingredients with high protein content and superfood additions, to help keep her healthy
For my age – pushing 70 – I have very little in the way of bodily aches and pains or physical ailments.
I do exercises for my knees – which keep the Baker’s Cysts at the back of them at bay – and my daily walks with Lydia help me to maintain my overall fitness levels.
The other day, though, I started getting a twinge to one side of my lower back. Nothing drastic, but noticeable.
I couldn’t have asked for more, then, when our Qigong teacher, Sue, in yesterday’s class, talked us through exercises that concentrated on the lower back area.
Qigong movements are very gentle, methodical. It isn’t always easy to see how they can be of immediate benefit – because they aren’t designed necessarily to be of immediate benefit. Effects over time can be difficult to recognise because of the very fact that they are gradual, often almost imperceptible. All I do know, is that I started going to Sue’s classes regularly – weekly – around 15 years ago and I hold them in no small part responsible for some of the health and fitness benefits I now enjoy.
This morning, the twinge in my lower back is less. I didn’t take painkillers and it didn’t just go away on its own. The combination of Qigong, preceded by yoga – which in turn was a gentle, meditative session – has, I believe, helped.
I meditated again this morning, sitting upright in a chair in the way we have been taught. Thankfully, there is no expectation of sitting cross legged on the floor. I used to try that, but it ‘killed’ my knees!
Lydia and I have had a woodland walk today. We also have new neighbours, including another dog. It’s going to be a challenge to train Lydia not to bark at it every time she hears it on the other side of the fence. We’ll get there though, just as we’re ‘getting there’ with other things. Even if we don’t know where we’re going, were doing our best to make the most of our time together, day by day, step by step.
I first encountered Qigong when I was exploring anything and everything that I could find that I thought might help to restore my mental health from a point of crisis to some semblance of stability. That was over 25 years ago, and I had a long and arduous journey ahead of me. Along the way I took part occasionally in Qigong classes and workshops. It wasn’t until some years later, however, when I was struggling to push through the challenges of a demanding job – in itself part of my recovery process – that I considered a more regular commitment to the practise of Qigong.
Google searches came up with limited references to Qigong being offered locally. Luckily, one of these few was an evening class at a school just a few miles from where I was living, in Leeds.
An online Medical Dictionary notes:
Qigong (pronounced “chee-gung,” also spelled chi kung) is translated from the Chinese to mean “energy cultivation” or “working with the life energy.” Qigong is an ancient Chinese system of postures, exercises, breathing techniques, and meditations. Its techniques are designed to improve and enhance the body’s qi. According to traditional Chinese philosophy, qi is the fundamental life energy responsible for health and vitality.
The Dictionary goes on to state:
Qigong may be used as a daily routine to increase overall health and well-being, as well as for disease prevention and longevity. It can be used to increase energy and reduce stress. In China, qigong is used in conjunction with other medical therapies for many chronic conditions, including asthma, allergies, AIDS, cancer, headaches, hypertension, depression, mental illness, strokes, heart disease, and obesity.
Qigong is presently being used in Hong Kong to relieve depression and improve the overall psychological and social well-being of elderly people with chronic physical illnesses.
While I can’t claim that I commit to a daily practice – not yet anyway – I have been attending these evening classes – and some day workshops at weekends too – with the same teacher ever since.
When the Covid lockdowns first started, Sue Dunham – the teacher – was quick off the mark with setting up Zoom classes. Just as in the live classes, Sue’s commitment to her own practice and to sharing her knowledge and vast experience has shone through into these Zoom sessions.
Sue doesn’t just demonstrate what to do for us to follow. She talks through and builds up each movement step by step, repeating as necessary; infinitely thorough and always engaging. Her approach is very meditative and mindful, working deep on different themes in each group of three classes. During the height of the pandemic, focusing on the lungs could not have been more appropriate, and we’ve also recently worked on the spine and the digestive system.
Though the movements are slow and steady, I find that I sleep really well after a class session, and wake in the morning with the sense that I’ve had a really good workout, even though it isn’t ‘exercise’ in the conventional sense.
According to Sue:
“Qigong is an extraordinary practice: it can bring you to question fundamental beliefs about mind and your life, bringing you to that in a supported, gentle way. I have found it to be accessible and yet challenging, it’s enigmatic but intriguing!”
One of my favourite Qigong movements is called ‘Healing Form’, and Qigong has certainly become an essential part of my own movement towards health and healing.
When I started to become aware of my body, as a teenager, it was on the basis of how it looked. The negative compulsive obsessions I developed were – I realise now – associated with complex psychological and emotional traumas that have taken me 50 years to unravel.
Fortunately for me, my body was and is healthy and, while I continued well into adulthood to control my life by controlling what I ate, my body served me well. Deep roots hold tight, though, and it was a long time – being ultimately faced with the choice of life or no life – before I was able to find the strength, coping mechanisms, and resolve, to push through and come out the other side.
Qigong has helped me to work at a deeper level with my body – my amazing body.
It hasn’t provided me with a miracle ‘cure’ but it has helped to shift my focus into health and wellbeing, which is where it should be.
I feel a lot ‘lighter’ these days, even though I’m 65 and probably weigh at least 4 stone more than I did when I was 15. At six-and-a-half stone and still feeling the need to lose weight, I was weighed down and locked in as a teenager.
Some of the grief, sadness and regret linger on, but less so day by day. I’m thankful for a lot of things and hope that I can continue to be so for many years to come. Qigong helps me to nurture my body, with all its intricate mechanisms for feeding and flow.
One of the wonderful things about this practice is that it takes me beyond what I ‘know’, what I can measure or evaluate, into that sense of wonder, about what I don’t know, with all the associated mysteries of those realms.
When I’m practising Qigong, under Sue’s infinitely patient and painstaking instruction, I feel as graceful as a dancer, and that – for me – is something of a miracle.
The Covid pandemic has shown us just how vulnerable any of us can be, at any age, but also how those vulnerability factors can increase as we get older. The more we can do ourselves to mitigate those factors, the more likely we are to be able to lead fulfilling, meaningful lives for longer. That’s my plan, anyway, and I’m sticking to it!
Waking this morning with a feeling of anxiety, my thoughts turn to the teaching and discussions at last night’s Buddhist meeting.
After I mentioned that the teachings and practices have been helping to lift me out of depression, another member of the group mentioned that she experiences anxiety rather than depression. The two often go together. In my case, I didn’t start to get any real sense of anxiety until after the depression started to lift. It hit me like a brick at the time: a traumatising blast of raw fear. Since then, I have been working on the fear and that too is usually in abeyance these days. This morning the anxiety is more in my body than my mind and I turn my thoughts to other things, other people: friends and people I know; close and not so close.
After showering, I do a quick clean of the bathroom; just enough to tide it over while I’m still in rest and recharge mode. A bit at a time stops it from building up and then seeming like it’s too much to tackle.
I’m doing the same with my emotional and psychological journey: a bit at a time now, after feeling so overwhelmed in the now distant past that I didn’t know where to start. Except that I did start – somewhere – and I kept going, am keeping going.
It’s pottery for me this afternoon. Trev is going to visit Lyme Regis, via a scenic route. Lydia is outside barking. She’ll be on her own for a few hours while I’m out so she may as well get a bit of fresh air and let off a bit of steam before I go.
I’ll probably have beans on toast for tea. I like beans on toast. I may well also go for a large gin and tonic. I like gin and tonic too. Alcohol, of course, isn’t the answer, but it is a solution and one that can be very enjoyable if not over-indulged. I recognise that it is only a temporary source of ‘happiness’ but it is a pleasure I can partake in for now, and tonight I probably will.
A few months ago I had high levels of anxiety which manifested in various ways.
I became highly stressed about my car, as I was having problems with the gears and I started to catastrophise about ‘worst case scenarios’, knowing the extent to which I need my car for daily walks with Lydia.
I pushed through on positives as best I could at the time, the worst-case scenario didn’t present itself and my car has been fine for a few months.
Recently, I’ve started having problems with the gears again.
In the intervening months I’ve taken a lot of time to rest and continue to practice meditation, yoga and Qigong.
I write my blog, in 28-day cycles. The process of writing is proving to be very therapeutic. I’ve written intermittently and irregularly for years but not in the same way as I do now.
My daily walks with Lydia have also been therapeutic, giving us both a good start to the day with regular exercise, fresh air and that all important connection with the natural world. In Lydia’s case a lot of her connection is through her nose; for me it is more a sense of the air around me and the ground under my feet; the slow steady movement of walking.
This time I haven’t experienced high levels of anxiety about my car problems. It’s been a minor inconvenience which Trev has helped me with by picking me up from the garage when I dropped it off this morning. It should be ready later this morning and may need a new clutch in the longer term.
Anxiety, I’m sure, arises from past experiences when we’ve needed to address a problem, and haven’t been able – for whatever reason – to find and implement a solution; where everything fell apart and we had no help in finding ways to put things back together. We’ve learnt to ‘not cope’ and to retreat instead of establishing ways of knowing what to do and how.
When I was younger, I had none of the personal resources and resilience that I have now. I wasn’t taught any coping strategies as any assertion on my part would have upset the status quo, however uneasy that status quo was (and it most certainly was uneasy, at best).
However, through experience and reflection I’ve done my best to learn and change, to take responsibility for the things that make up day-to-day life and to see and do things differently.
I still rely on a small dose of anti-depressant medication every day, but the main processes I use are the ones that are active not passive. Moving from passive to active has been the major achievement of my life. The mental effort it has taken has been enormous and sustained, which is why, at the moment, I need to rest a lot as well. Re-focusing and re-prioritising takes time and I need to continue to trust in the process, however frightening the prospect of uncertainty may seem. I’ve come a long way, just in the last few months. I’m not going back now.
Glad About 
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