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.
I woke this morning to the sound of heavy shredding. Contractors next door were clearing the house of ivy and putting it through a machine. I could almost hear the walls of the house breathe a sigh of relief, as they were exposed to fresh air and sunshine for the first time in years.
Ivy can look attractive – I have set some to grow up and around the front wall and railings of our house – but it needs to be cut back heavily and regularly, otherwise it just takes over.
With my cold still working its way through, I took Lydia for a shorter walk this morning than we usually do, then headed back to bed.
She didn’t seem to mind the shorter walk – she’s such a treasure – and came up to join me in the bedroom, so we’ve both just snoozed and rested on what is, outside, a grey damp day. Fortunate then, to be warm and comfortable at home with nothing much to do other than boil up some chicken bones to make stock for soup that Trev is going to be making later.
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.
The predicted weather was cold, with possible snow and hail. Even so, we set off, determined to make the most of the chance to meet up outside and walk with others, following the ‘Rule of Six’.
Although it did turn out to be cold, there was no sign of snow or hail. We walked through glorious countryside in bright sunshine and completed an 8-mile circuit. Not bad considering the effects of ‘lockdown winter’ with gyms closed and the impetus to exercise at home starting to dwindle. We needed those hills, that fresh air, that blast to the senses.
With 38 years between the youngest of the group, at 27, and me, at 65, our walking speeds were variable. Our younger friends waited patiently at regular intervals for us to catch up – me and my partner plodding along at a steady 2 miles an hour. We’re not going to break any records but we’re not aiming to. What we do want to do, however, is maintain reasonable levels of fitness as we progress through our sixties and beyond.
We’ve both struggled with long-term depression but also both never given up on pushing ourselves – and now, sometimes, each other – to keep making that effort – massive though it is – to maintain an exercise regime, in one form or another.
For me it’s tended to be a bit ad hoc – I find routine difficult – although for years I did cycle to work regularly. It wasn’t a long distance but there was quite a lot of uphill on the way back. I often cursed at the end of the day when I wished – how I wished – that I’d driven there in the car. But I’m sure it’s helped me a lot and I’m glad of it now. Glad to have kept going, pushing those pedals.
Every so often I used to try jogging. I found it hard to psyche myself up, sometimes got into a bit of a ‘stride’, and even completed a 10K run once. Jogging wasn’t for me though, long term. My knees complained and I had to call it a day on that one.
There were times in my life when I simply set off from home and walked until my heels bled. Not recommended but at least it got me out and active.
In later years I did volunteering involving hard labour with a sledgehammer (and called it a holiday!). For that, I set myself training targets, carrying a backpack loaded up to 50lb in weight with books, tins of beans and bags of flour. A good friend used to come with me on some of these training walks, to make sure that I didn’t fall backwards off the hillside – with that load I would never have stopped until I landed at the bottom!
Now, I enjoy our leisure walks – sometimes with friends, sometimes just the two of us. We’re planning to do Helvellyn later this year. Must get into training again soon.
Post script 28th September 2025: never did make Helevellyn but I’m pretty sure I’m doing ‘striding edge’ in a different way. I’ll keep enjoying my walks with Lydia, every day.
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.
The sun came out again today, so Lydia enjoyed a bit of outside time in the yard, as well as our morning walk.
My meditation before the walk felt deeper, somehow. I can’t find any other words to describe it at the moment, but will just acknowledge that there was a change, and continue with the practice.
Other than that, it’s just been a domestic day, stocking up on shopping, putting it away, giving Lydia a raw lamb rib as a special treat.
Trev returns; Lydia’s tail wags. We order a Chinese and watch a bit of telly. It’s good just to relax into a Sunday evening.
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.
The woodland walk this morning was wild and windy for Lydia and me. Winter seems to have suddenly arrived and missed out Autumn. Hopefully it will revert back again, at least for a while.
It was good to have yoga and Qigong to go to this afternoon.
I’m also keeping up with my meditation practice, on a morning before taking Lydia out for her walk. I still have dips into negative thought patterns, but am learning to recognise them for what they are.
Body work, breath work, mind work. I do feel I’m continuing to make progress with my mental health, sticking with the things that work for me and repeating them in cycles that also work for me.
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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