My car was booked in for a service this morning so Trev followed me round in his car to the service centre, where I transferred Lydia from my car to his so that I could walk her on the way home.
The car was ready by early afternoon and it was a clear and mild day so I walked back to pick it up.
Later in the afternoon I had a bath – the first bath I’ve had in a long time. Showers are so much easier in so many ways but I did enjoy a good soak, with the addition of some mineral salts and an essential oil – ylang ylang.
The theme for the current Buddhist course – last week, this week and next week – is ‘love’. This week the emphasis was on ‘affectionate love’; a love that is free from delusions such as attachment and anger.
It is such a lovely theme to explore in the context of Buddha’s teachings and feels especially so at this time of the year. I consider myself very fortunate to be able to receive such wonderful words of wisdom.
Lydia and I were out earliesh this morning, as the sun was still rising.
It was the second day for her wearing her new collar, and she did very well.
Back home, after setting Lydi up with her breakfast ball, I set to on deep cleaning the kitchen, eating my own breakfast as I worked.
After a few hours it was time to set off to meet my friend Susie. We had a lovely walk round a lake before heading for a café to have some lunch.
Susie first introduced me to meditation around 30 years ago. I wrote a poem about our friendship a while back:
Friendship
The light of your heart
Turns forever night
into a sensation of morning
as you reach out
to illuminate the darkness and depth
of my despair
Almost beyond hope
I find the firm hold
of your belief in me
and then I can see
that somewhere in the future
lies a present, what will it be?
All I do know is that now I can say
thank you for the day
and for your friendship
that helped to show the way
2013, dedicated to my friend Susie
Back home to Lydia and, after she’d had her tea and I’d had a bit of a rest, I went out to the Buddhist group meeting.
The theme for tonight’s meeting – the first of a group of three – was ‘love’, with the emphasis on affectionate love, cherishing love and wishing love. Wishing love is about wishing for others to be happy; not just those we are close to or who we particularly care about, but all others; all living beings.
43 years ago, when I graduated with a degree in Ceramics, I knew that there was something wrong with me – mentally, emotionally – but I didn’t know what or how to deal with it. Since then, I’ve been close to the edge more than once and in more ways than one. I nearly lost my life during a psychotic experience in Iceland, felt broken to the point where I didn’t think I could possibly mend, and ultimately pushed myself through such extreme, painful experiences that many times I wondered why.
Thankfully, I also thought ‘why not?’ and bit by bit I found a way through.
Being in survival mode doesn’t leave any energy for forward planning, including consideration of what I would do when I retired. The idea of doing some work with clay again suddenly came out of ‘nowhere’ and I’ve been enjoying going to workshop sessions at a studio not too far from where I live. However, I also thought it would be good to be able to do some work from home, especially during the winter months when I can’t work outside in the garden.
The work I produced at college for my degree show was fired initially to bisque level and then finished in a sawdust kiln. We have no space here for a proper kiln but I’ve been exploring possibilities for sawdust firing; even firing ‘greenware’, that is without having put the pieces through the initial bisque firing. This will produce porous pots that are not ‘vitrified’ as they are when fired to higher temperatures, but some beautiful subtle effects can be obtained.
So with a few basic tools and a dining table, I’m off to a good start. I’m still going to continue to attend the studio sessions – apart from anything else it’s a lovely encouraging atmosphere and I enjoy the companionship and sense of shared experience. But it’s also great to be able to ‘sit and do’ at home – to make whatever I want to make – without time constraints or consideration of anything other than what I’m working on.
This brings me to Poetry/Pottery Rule No. 20: Enjoy the process.
Now that does sound like a plan – the housework may not get done, but these are pots that won’t need washing up!
I wake this morning feeling lighter of heart than I have for a long time.
To celebrate, on the way home from my walk with Lydia, I stop off at the shop and buy the ingredients to make cake.
When I bake, I bake big, and I make lots of lemon and vanilla cake, including one for our new next-door neighbour. So far, I haven’t properly introduced myself, although I did give him a friendly wave when I saw him in his car while I was out doing some work in the front yard last week.
Trev’s out so Lydia and I have some quiet time together while the cake is cooling down enough to sandwich layers together with lemon curd and vanilla icing. I can tell it’s going to be exceedingly good cake.
Starting this latest 28-day cycle of writing into life on a Mental Health Monday, I have so far meditated and had a walk with Lydia.
I collected her from the boarding kennels this morning where she has been staying for a couple of nights. I had a night out in town with two friends on Saturday and a duvet day on Sunday.
Cocktails and a Thai curry in good company made a welcome change and Lydia had a change of environment as well. We all need it sometimes.
I’m booked into yoga this afternoon, followed by a Qigong class.
I’m struggling with low mood and low energy levels. For now, I don’t think there is anything I can do other than what I am doing. There are no ‘quick fixes’ so I approach the situation as positively as possible, keeping a focus on health and wellbeing and remembering to be glad that I am so fortunate to have my health and a reasonable level of fitness; not something to be taken for granted.
The day is mild, with blue sky and sunshine, albeit damp from the weekend’s rain.
Lydia has had her second breakfast – they’d fed her before I picked her up from the kennels this morning but she still demanded – and got – her breakfast ball with her usual supply. We all need a bit of a ‘bonus ball’ sometimes. She’s now outside enjoying being back in her domain.
Over the last couple of weeks, while I’ve had a writing ‘holiday’, I’ve been bringing my focus closer to my own domain: my home; our home. Home isn’t something to be taken for granted either. I’ve always been fortunate to have one, one way or another.
Over the next few months – through the winter – I’m going to concentrate on giving care and attention to the edges and corners in our home – the bits that often get missed with a general sweep and ‘hoover’ round. I’ve never been the best at spring cleaning so I’m going to do it over the winter instead. Then, when spring comes, I’ll be free to do other things instead. That’s my plan; that’s what I’ll do. It may not be the most exciting plan on the planet, but it’s mine.
Paperback versions of my two latest books are now available on Amazon:
Rules, Rhymes, Recovery, Recipe, Random: writing into life
After a morning walk with Lydia and an afternoon visit to see a friend, I settle down to a relaxing evening.
Nothing much to do; nothing to prove.
I don’t know what the future holds, and have a lot of fear associated with this, but I can’t do any more, for now.
All I can do is what I’ve been doing, take each day at a time and be as positive as I can be within it; also accept that some days are better than others and sometimes it’s good just to do very little.
This morning, I said some prayers for meditation that are provided in the book, Universal Compassion, by Geshe Kelsang Gyatso Rinpoche. I’m familiar with these prayers as I’ve recited them several times at different ceremonies I’ve taken part in at Buddhist Centres over a number of years. It felt good, to refamiliarize myself with the words, that are so soothing and somehow reassuring. I don’t even feel I need to fully understand them, just say them, meditate and take it on faith that they will help me through; they are helping me through.
I wake early, around 6am, relieved to know that there is no pressure for me to get up and out of bed for a few hours yet.
I set myself a target of 9.30 but rise before then, go downstairs and make a cup of tea. The important thing comes first though – giving Lydia a tummy and chest rub. Then I open the back door and do a few repeats of ‘Healing Form’ as Lydia welcomes the day in her own way. Sue, the Qigong teacher, reminded us of some of the details of the Healing Form movement in the class last night so I was able to reintroduce these to my practice.
It’s a quiet walk for Lydia and me this morning, with no passing cars, joggers, cyclists or dogs; just a tractor going to and fro’ across a field in the distance.
Back home and she has her breakfast from her breakfast ball as usual; she is an expert now at nudging it around with her nose so that the dried food pellets fall out; it’s a lot better for her than passively eating from a bowl.
I have a restful morning, doing nothing much more than loading and setting off the dishwasher, and putting away some clean laundry. I’m sure if I looked around the house I could – and would – find dust and cobwebs in various corners, but on the whole I’m up to date with what needs doing inside.
As it’s Tuesday I visit my friend who used to live in the village but now lives in a care home, a few miles away. Her personal carer, J is there too, and we have a lovely chat together outside in the sunshine while J does M’s nails, commenting on the wonderful weather we’ve had this summer and how we wish we could have weather like this every summer.
After J leaves, I read M a short story from a magazine I’ve brought with me. She lies on the bed and snoozes as I read. At 85, it’s good to see her relaxed and looking so much brighter than she did a few weeks ago. It’s amazing what a change of environment can do.
Arriving home, I have a supply of dental sticks that I ordered for Lydia, and proof copies of my latest books in paperback form waiting for me. I give Lydia a dental stick for a treat straight away and flick through the proofs. I’ll need to look at them in more detail before I approve them for publication, but am pleased on first sight.
Self-management rule no. 20 is a good one: enjoy the process. I have found in my life that it is enormously difficult to do this, but am working on it, and – I believe – getting better at it by the day, bit by bit, step by step.
Lydia and I did a double circuit of our woodland walk this morning. It was good walking weather, neither too warm nor cold, and she was doing really well with her “heel” work, tugging on the lead only a little but also at times pulling herself into the “heel” position, which I was quick to reinforce with the reward of a treat (or three). She’s not just a “good girl”, she’s the best girl (but then I’m biased).
I’m rewarding myself with the treats of a yoga class followed by a Qigong class this afternoon.
I keep to the routine of my ‘Mental Health Mondays’ most weeks, providing the classes are on. It makes for a great start to the week, working at deep levels which, combined with meditation, help me to push through on positives.
That doesn’t mean that I’m always ‘doing stuff’. It just means that I’m working on training my mind to not revert to the negative thought patterns that I grew up with, so that I can move forward in different ways, taking care of my body at the same time as I need it to carry me through.
I’ve taken a further positive step by applying to do some volunteering at the Buddhist Centre.
My offer is one afternoon a month for now, as I don’t want to over-commit on top of existing commitments, particularly since I’m still working through a phase of burnout. But being at the Centre yesterday helped to remind me how replenishing an atmosphere it is, and I have a lot of skills learned in my working life that could be put to good use.
It isn’t always easy, during retirement, to re-establish ourselves after the rigours of working life have taken their toll. I don’t want or need too many things going on but I do need to feel that there is some meaning and purpose in what I do and why I do it.
In one sense, this post should just be entitled ‘Being’, because age is irrelevant.
I interact with the world essentially as a being, and don’t need a label.
On the other hand, I do have history, and the ways that I have worked through that history impact on the way that I interact with the world – and other beings in it – on a daily basis.
It isn’t always easy to put the past behind us, especially when heavily loaded with emotions associated with trauma and grief.
Accepting things that I cannot change has been a hard life lesson to learn for me, helped by meditation, affirmations, and Buddhist teachings (including one in particular by Gen Togden of the Kadampa tradition).
Not having had children is a major regret. Raising this as an issue with a therapist recently, still needing to work it through, I was met with a profoundly uncompassionate response: “So you decided not to have them then, did you?”
At one level, she was right. I made choices – decisions – that led to me being in a state of extreme mental and emotional turmoil in my late 30s and 40s. Decisions that I made as a struggling, vulnerable young woman in my 20s were mine, and I was an adult. But should I really have had to pay such a high price in later life?
Shit does happen though, and doesn’t discriminate. Thankfully, I have had previous experiences with other counsellors/therapists who’ve approached my distress with humanity and empathy.
Even so, some things take a long time to work through. Some ‘stuff’ from the past has just come up that I thought I’d put behind me, or at least wanted to. It doesn’t always work like that though, and I’m sure my brain dredged it up now because I hadn’t properly dealt with it previously.
Now I’m in a much better place than I have ever been before, living with a kind, loving, supportive, funny partner. Being 65 is a starting point for me, and it’s never too late.
If I can send out a message to anyone who’s going through personal difficulties – whether recently experienced or long-term endured – it is to say: “Don’t give up.”
We don’t always know what we’re made of until our backs are to the wall, especially if we’ve oriented towards ‘flight’ rather than ‘fight’ in early years.
Fighting for survival is a primary motivator and there is always light at the end of the tunnel. Even if you can’t see it for yourself, let someone else – a friend – see it and hold it for you until you can.
I’m only 65, and I’ve got all my life ahead of me. So have you.
Glad About 
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