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.
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.
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.
It was an early start for Lydia and me this morning.
I’d set the alarm for 6.15 but was awake and got up before then.
After a quick cup of tea I took Lydia out for a walk.
She is very amenable and adaptable to changes in routine. We normally have a slow start to the day and I take her out mid- to late morning. However, she took it in her stride – literally – as we walked together for about an hour before heading back for breakfast.
Leaving Lydia at home with Trev, I set off to go to a half-day course at the Buddhist Centre, about a 50-minute drive away.
It’s an easy drive and I arrived in good time for the start of the session: Finding the Hero Within.
I was relieved to find that it didn’t mean I had to be able to quickly don a cape and a vest with a big ‘S’ on it and whizz about in the sky.
The ‘hero’ or ‘heroine’ was defined as anyone who made the decision to train their mind to identify, reduce and eventually eliminate delusional thoughts. Delusional thoughts are those such as ignorance, desirous attachment and anger. These delusional thoughts lead us to believe that our happiness is dependant on external factors or other people rather than ourselves.
For me, an important aspect of the teaching this morning was the emphasis on meditation as the primary means for training the mind, and the acknowledgement that it was all about building things up, bit by bit. Making the commitment, and taking small steps towards achieving it, are the key, with the ultimate aim of building our capacity to be of benefit to others.
This brings me to self-management rule no. 26:Your brief case is an important tool. Use it well. Use it wisely. I’ve struggled with using my brief case – my life – well and wisely, largely because of the mental health complications that I developed as a child and young adult.
I’ve had to do a lot of unravelling, and that in itself has been debilitating and exhausting. Having said that, perhaps what I’ve done is the best that I could do in the circumstances that I was presented with, and now I can start to do things differently, in the circumstances I’m now in?
There is really only one answer to my question, so I’ll continue to meditate, read the dharma (teaching) books, go to classes and retreats and find whatever way that I can to be the best person I can be, for the benefit of others.
I have to confess I find it daunting – terrifying – but bit by bit, step by step, is the way.
Lydia enjoying a yak’s milk chew yesterday evening
Continuing the story of Lydia and Me
“Oh, what a beautiful day!”
Yesterday I sat outside on a bench, with a friend. We were watching the world go by. Our part of the world, in our village. It was quiet, with just a few passing cars, people and birds.
Then my friend suddenly burst into song: “Oh, what a beautiful morning! Oh, what a beautiful day!”* And I joined in.
It was a moment I will treasure and will always remember every time I now walk past or sit on that bench.
My friend, in her eighties, suffering from dementia and grieving the loss of loved ones from her life, gave me a great gift. She transformed my day into a beautiful one, through her spontaneity and joy; the joy of her loving heart, however sad it may be.
This morning as I woke, I found messages on my phone from members of a WhatsApp group I belong to. It’s a group called ‘Sangha Meditation’. ‘Sangha’ is a Buddhist term for ‘community’ and I really value the support and sense of community that centres around the Buddhist teachings that I go to. The messages were very simple – people just checking in to see who was planning to go the evening meeting – but it was good to be included in that very simple exchange. How wonderful!
This evening’s class will be the last in a series of four, on the theme of ‘Transforming Adversity’.
I’ve had a massive amount of support from friends and therapists over the last few years of my life, when I’ve been doing my best to deal as positively as possible with a very difficult and complex set of circumstances. I’ve also been taking on board the Buddhist teachings, as presented in these weekly classes, and occasionally at weekend and day retreats.
The practice of meditation has been and continues to be a transformative process for me. I still have a long way to go to achieve the calm and peaceful mind that I aim for. However, thanks to friends – in the village and in the wider community – I do now have moments of spontaneously feeling happy.
I think Lydia has moments when she spontaneously feels happy too. We’re getting there.
My book, Train your dog; train your mind – positive reinforcement for humans and canines – is now available in paperback: https://amzn.eu/d/eQ2sWjU.
The Kindle version is currently for sale at £2.99 on a Kindle Countdown deal https://amzn.eu/d/99yW3Qk.
I don’t claim to be a dog trainer or a mind trainer – I’m just a woman with a dog who writes a blog, and has written a book, about life, and about being glad.
Having identified a priority for Lydia of giving her more body rubs and gentle massage, I introduced these during our walk today.
So, as well as continuing to reinforce “heel” and “watch”, using some of her daily food allowance combined with tasty treats for rewards, I stopped a few times during the walk to rub around her neck, ears and lower abdomen.
This had an immediate calming effect. I also made sure that I gave her lots of verbal encouragement as we were walking along: “we’re OK Lydia”, “yes, good girl, we’re doing OK”, repeated often.
This evening, after we’d had our respective meals, Lydia came up to me while I was sitting on the settee, and I gave her some more rubs, all around her ears and down her spine. She sat there for ages while I did this – a far cry from when we first got her, when she would not have been able to accept this kind of attention at all. She came back for a little bit more rubbing and some brushing, and then started barking – an invitation I have come to realise, at this time of an evening, to have a bit of a play.
We played ‘tuggie’ with an old towel for a while, then she settled down.
At my Qigong class today, we started by giving our knees a gentle rub. As Sue, the teacher said, this was an acknowledgement that we were going to be kind to ourselves, to our bodies, for an hour, doing gentle movements under gentle guidance.
I haven’t always found it easy to care for myself; I used to have a tendency to push myself too hard, and to look after others’ needs first. While I continue to want to look out for and care for others, including Lydia, I also recognise now, particularly at this stage of my life, that I need to look after myself as a priority.
So, I have had a good ‘Mental Health Monday’, with a lovely walk around and through a wood; a yoga session which concentrated on developing strength and flexibility in the spine; and a Qigong class which incorporated a range of movements to open up the shoulder blades, promoting a calmer mind through working with the body and the breath.
I’m hopeful that I’m helping Lydia to have a calmer mind too.
I usually take her out for a walk mid- to late morning.
This morning, I had my poetry group meeting starting at 10, and I needed to leave for that around 9.20.
I could have taken Lydia out for an early walk, but I needed a bit of a lie in and she didn’t seem too keen on an early start either.
While I understand that routines are generally considered good for dogs (and some humans)[1], I also personally think that an occasional change of routine can be a good thing too.
I’m not alone in holding this view:
Routine keeps us comfortable, but it can also leave the brain in a bit of a rut. When we shake up our daily habits, the brain has to adapt, engage, and stay alert, which can boost mental flexibility and cognitive resilience. Changing up small parts of our routines—like taking a different route to work or brushing our teeth with the opposite hand—might seem simple, but these small acts can significantly affect cognitive health.[2]
My inclination can often be to push myself in order to accommodate the needs of others, including my dog. That’s no bad thing, except that I’ve recently come to realise that pushing myself progressively over a period of time, to accommodate a very difficult set of circumstances, has had a dysregulating effect on my nervous system. I’ve been experiencing some of the symptoms identified with nervous system dysregulation including feeling emotionally overwhelmed, irritable, or easily triggered’[3] Knowing that I was close to burnout, I’ve also, for some time, been doing quite a lot to try and restore balance, including resting, practicing Qigong and yoga, meditating, walking with Lydia, making things with clay, spending time in good company, spending time alone.
With the line now drawn under the difficult circumstances that I’ve been dealing with, I’m confident that the measures I’ve been taking will start to have more of a positive impact on my emotional and mental health.
I’m also confident that changing Lydia’s routine now and again is not going to have a negative impact on her emotional and mental health.
The theme for the next poetry group session is ‘birds’. Lydia and I saw a few birds on our walk through the woods this morning. Birds are a source of inspiration for my work with clay. I look forward to letting myself be inspired by the subject of ‘birds’ in my work with words. It’s good being a Poetic Potter and a Potting Poet, and it’s good being glad about life.
Glad About 
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