Adventuring

I often find the best adventures happen close to home. Be they exciting, exhilarating or downright scary, sometimes you don’t have to venture to the other side of the world to feel like you’ve been on an expedition. I was reminded of this recently when one of my children went on an “adventure” to a neighbouring city – 45 minutes on the train and they spoke of it as if they were visiting Mars for the evening. They were attending a work event, so it was definitely in the “scary” genre of adventure.

I have recently been enjoying reading the autobiography of Sarah Outen, an ‘adventurer’ who around a decade ago travelled around the world under her own steam – by bike, kayak and rowing boat. She has some amazing tales of storms, hurricanes, sharks, bears, and deadly snakes, and her adventure, which lasted almost five years, sounds truly thrilling.

But while I am enjoying the escapism of reading about Sarah’s exotic solo adventures, one passage in particular stood out. Sarah remarks that whenever she is talking to people and making new friends, she often enjoys hearing about their own expeditions and activities. But they often apologise for their tales, saying they are not as exciting as Sarah’s epic trip.

But Sarah disagrees with this view. She writes: “For me, all adventures are created equal, and it is about spirit more than form, about what it does to you rather than how long you go for or how hard other people think it was.

“Stuffing marshmallows into a mug at day’s end while you perch on a log outside your tent feels sweetly blissful whether you are out for a weekend or away for years. In fact, maybe the smaller nuggets are all the more brilliant for their contrast with the rest of your life. In my head, the essence of it all is the same: to strive, to seek, to find, and to have fun while you are out.”

These words resonated with me, as most people do not have the time, money or external support to undertake huge trips like’s Sarah’s. And in the pandemic, even the idea of going on an adventure to another country has become much more out of reach.

Sarah uses the example of spotting a kestrel in a field while walking close to her home as a stunning experience that she will remember for as long as her more exotic encounters on the other side of the world. I can think of similar special and wonderful experiences – at a picnic in a local wood, or over a bonfire on a nearby beach, for example, that have exactly the same effect.

Glass half full

It always feels like a bit of a disappointment when the nights start drawing in. It’s ridiculous, but somehow every year I can’t stifle the hope that the summer might continue just a little longer, that the creeping of the sunsets earlier and earlier might begin to slow. It seems unimaginable that in a few weeks it will be dark by the time I finish work.

Notwithstanding cosy nights by the fire, winter tends to be quite unwelcome in my house. The dark and cold weather can limit outdoor activity, and put a general dampener on everything. But I have to admit that this year I’m almost looking forward to it. As the light began to fade earlier this month I had a brainwave, and decided to come up with some special activity or treat just for winter, which I could look forward to.

I settled on swimming, and have treated myself to a three-month membership of a local pool, which I wouldn’t have done usually or for the whole year. It’s going to be wonderful, and I know I’m going to enjoy being in a warm indoor pool when the temperatures outside begin to drop! It will also be great to get some exercise through the winter, as it can be so tempting just to stay indoors. And while I have great respect for those people who continue swimming in the sea all year round… I don’t think I want to be one of them.

So here’s to winter, and the gradual shortening of the days. We can’t do anything about it, so what are you looking forward to? 

Moving on

A year ago I shared the sad news that we had said goodbye to our beloved cat. Norbert had reached the grand old age of 20, and some of you will remember him from my Pilates studio at home. He used to come along to say hello and sniff all the cars, especially of those who had their own pets.

He was healthy and active right up until the end, and died peacefully on a patch of lawn in the sunshine with us gathered around him. It was the best possible end, and Norbert had had a long and happy life at 20 years old. Nevertheless, while we knew we would want to get another cat at some point, we couldn’t quite bring ourselves to do so immediately.

But a couple of months ago we decided it was time. We missed the warm presence of Norbert sitting on our laps on the sofa, and the loud sound of his purring as he slept. So we put some feelers out and got ourselves a new kitten, who after a rather complicated naming process has been christened Freddie.

I can’t say that Freddie is what we were looking for. There is no sedate presence on the sofa, nor stretched out on the floor for hours on end, as Norbert used to be. Purring noises do not continue throughout the day, as they would when Norbert spent almost all of his time asleep.

Instead, there is a streak of grey zooming through the house and across the garden. There are cups knocked over, cakes gone missing, and whisker-prints in the butter. Freddie can often be found balancing on the garden fence, raising everyone’s blood pressure as he contemplates the perilous drop on one side. Panicked squawking tells us he has managed to breach the gate towards the chicken coop (he enjoys terrorising them but thankfully neither party has so far been harmed).

We have all learned that standing or sitting still for more than five minutes is an instant declaration of war, for which our wrists and ankles will pay. We have also learned to worry when Freddie appears from within the house licking his chops, and not to worry when he disappears for hours on end, and comes home slightly dishevelled and smelling of tree resin.

Freddie’s boundless energy and mischief is a very different presence to that of Norbert, and we suspect it is not solely down to him being a kitten, as none of us remember Norbert causing quite this much trouble. Needless to say, he is universally adored. Getting a new kitten was the best possible decision, and Freddie has managed to firmly capture our hearts with his ridiculous antics.

Should you go to your reunion?

An old friend of mine recently sent me a picture of the pair of us back in our secondary school days, with a reminder about plans for a reunion after the Covid-19 pandemic. My friend was eager to reconnect with classmates long dropped off the radar and rediscover half-remembered gossip and stories. She was excited, but I know many people who refuse to go to any kind of reunion – even when they still live just down the road from the school in question. 

In fact, ‘never go to your school reunion’ is one of the many pieces of advice given by Swiss-born philosopher Alain de Botton. The reason for this, he argues, is that the people you went to school with are the ones you are most similar to in life, in terms of background, age, prospects and of course education. And the more similar you are to someone, the more tempting it is to compare yourself to them, and in turn the easier it is to feel inadequate or jealous of them.

“The closer two people are – in age, in background, in the process of identification – the more there’s a danger of envy,” he said in a TED Talk about success. The reason for this is that we think if one person – perhaps a classmate – has the same upbringing as us, similar interests, a similar college education and a similar age, we believe that if they are now successful and we feel less so, then the reason for that difference is our own fault, rather than chance.

However, this is, of course, completely nonsensical. Quite apart from the fact that success cannot be easily compared from one person to another, and that we never know the realities of a life which looks ‘successful’ on the surface, more of life’s good outcomes are down to chance than anyone really recognises. It may feel as though that classmate has had exactly the same journey as us, but the reality is that there are a hundred different factors leading to that success which we are not aware of.

Alain de Botton explains that the egalitarian idea that anyone can achieve anything is relatively new, and that while it has many positive connotations it also leads to people comparing themselves to others who have had vastly different circumstances, and a huge amount of luck.

“Never before have expectations been so high about what human beings can achieve with their lifespan. We’re told from many sources that anyone can achieve anything […] along with that is a kind of spirit of equality, we’re all basically equal,” he said.

He added: “I think it would be very unusual for anyone here to be envious of the Queen of England. Even though she is much richer than any of you are, and she’s got a very large house, the reason why we don’t envy her is because she’s too weird […] we can’t relate to her, and when you can’t relate to somebody, you don’t envy them.”

Comparing ourselves to others is a natural response, but research shows that people who regularly compare themselves to others are more likely to experience feelings of dissatisfaction, guilt, or remorse, and engage in destructive behaviours.

The advice never to go to your school reunion is tongue-in-cheek and perhaps a bit extreme. Awareness is the key to understanding how a school reunion might bring up mixed feelings, and making sure you focus on the positive – enjoying catching up and re-connecting with old friends, rather than comparing yourself to others.

Gerard's story

Gerard, who shared his story in a previous blog, has now been working with me for several months. After our first few sessions he told of being able to reduce his hip pain by about “10 to 20 per cent”, after experiencing it for more than a decade.

Several months since then, he has seen huge changes in his behaviour. There are times when he doesn’t notice any pain at all. He is now able to get out digging in the garden, and to go on long walks for the first time in years. Pains still pop up in new places, but Gerard is ready for this.

He has discovered that pain has been masking his sensitivity. He has recognised that he is wary of disapproval, and has become aware of previously buried hurts which have accumulated. This previous lack of awareness was holding him back both at work and in his personal life. His resilience has markedly improved, and Gerard is finding his voice. He has also become aware that his sensitivity can be used as a ‘super-power’.

He is looking forward to doing more research on emotional intelligence and non-verbal communication, and has plans for particular areas for development which are holding him back. There is always a significant takeaway from each session and he enjoys writing up what we’ve discussed so he can mull it over later. He says he feels like he is living again, and I am confident we can open up even more possibilities.

Watch another video from Gerard here.

Yes yes yes

The clichéd advice to “do something that scares you every day” always seemed a little foolish to me. Driving on the wrong side of the road would scare me, but that doesn’t mean it’s a good idea to do it. American TV writer Shonda Rhimes came up with a better approach I think: In 2013 she decided to say “yes to everything” for one year.

Shonda, who is behind hit US TV dramas like Grey’s Anatomy, Private Practice and Scandal, was incredibly successful at work, and had three children at home. But she wasn’t happy – her sister described her as “asleep”. “You never say yes to anything,” her sister told her. And so she  challenged herself to say yes, to everything, for a year, and then wrote a book about how that challenge changed her life.

The first thing she said yes to was a speech to new graduates at her old university, Dartmouth College. As the date draws closer, Shonda’s fear of public speaking intensifies, and you can see why she would not normally have said yes to this: “I wander around feeling white-hot terror searing all creativity out of my brain,” she writes in her book, Year of Yes.

“The fires of failure are whipping around, burning down any ideas I may have had. I’m writing an apocalypse up in my imagination. I lie on the floor of my office. I drink red wine. I eat popcorn. I hug my kids. I prepare for the end of days.”

Needless to say, the speech is fine in the end. More than fine, Shonda enjoys it: “For the first time in my life, I stand on a stage and raise my voice to the public with full confidence and not an inch of panic. For the first time in my life, I speak to an audience as myself and I feel joy.”

This continues throughout the book, with her terror before public speaking arrangements, TV appearances, magazine interviews and showbiz events gradually subsiding as she becomes more used to them.

Image: Flickr

One thing that struck me is how she manages to say yes on her own terms, setting her own boundaries. The challenge is not about just blithely saying yes to everything. Shonda actually learns to say no in some cases, to friends who she realises are exerting only a negative influence on her, and to others who she realises are attempting to get closer to her only for her fame and wealth.

In other cases she says her own kind of yes. For example, she says yes to a TV appearance on the popular Jimmy Kimmel show. But while this interview is supposed to be on live TV, Shonda insists that she will only do it if it is pre-recorded. This compromise turns out well, as it reduces her stage-fright but the show is still a big success.

Reading this book, I was reminded of a visit to Ballymaloe House in Cork many years ago, a real treat. We spoke to one of the junior staff, and among other things he said how much of an inspiration Myrtle Allen had been. She had advised him to say yes to more things, he said, which had opened up huge opportunities. .

Shonda also believes her Year of Yes changed – and saved – her life. It’s a drastic step to take, but it got me thinking about all the things I often say no to, automatically, out of fear or nervousness. I wonder if I could turn any of them into a yes, challenge myself, and as Shonda Rhimes puts it, “dance in the sun”.  

Gerard's story

Gerard has had hip pain for over a decade. A “dull ache” in both his hips, it gets especially bad when he lies or sits down for long periods of time or needs to move his leg in a certain way – using the clutch pedal while driving, for example, can be really tough. He finds himself avoiding long journeys, in the car or on other modes of transport that still require sitting in one place for a long time.

The pain also comes in his hands from time to time, especially while typing at a keyboard, which Gerard has to do all day long at work. This can be particularly stressful. 

Gerard tried functional training and physiotherapy, hoping to try and strengthen and stretch the areas which were giving him pain. He had some short-term results, but no real success long or even medium term.

Since he began Resolving Chronic Pain sessions with me, Gerard has begun to think about pain differently. He had previously been under the impression that he would simply have to ‘manage’ his pain. It has been a welcome revelation that the way he thinks about his pain makes a difference. “It’s not something that you just cope with, it's the idea that when I detect pain to think of it as a signal that your body is trying to tell you something,” he now says.

Thinking in this way, after just three sessions, has allowed Gerard to reduce his pain overall by about “10 to 20 per cent”. During the first session and in subsequent sessions Gerard has noticed a reduction in hip pain while we are talking, and this now continues to be the case between sessions. We’ll continue working together to reduce the pain – Gerard has so far found the approach both “interesting and profound” and says he is looking forward to more sessions. So am I!

You can see Gerard telling his story in his own words here.

Take a break!

I have to apologise, as the Resolving Chronic Pain blog didn’t come out last week. I would like to say it was pre-planned, but when it came down to it, I just needed a break.

We all do sometimes, and while it may not be possible to make a habit of it, it’s good to have an idea of which tasks absolutely have to get done and which you can be a little bit more flexible about. We’re all only human after all.

The blog will be back next week as usual – some wonderful people have agreed to share their stories as case studies and a few of them will be included in posts over the next few weeks.

For now though I would urge you to take a break if you need one, even if just for five minutes, even if just to not be so hard on yourself in one particular area.

Meanwhile, I’m going to sit back, relax for a moment, and pretend I’m on the beach in this picture. We may not be allowed to go anywhere just now, but we can still dream! And the local beauty spots aren’t bad either.

On top of the world

One morning this week I went in the sea.

It wasn’t planned, I just woke up earlier than I needed to, with various sources of stress on my mind. The sun was shining, it was a warm (ish!) morning, and on a whim I decided this was it. Off I went down to the beach.

I felt my nerve slipping away a little on the journey down – I hadn’t been in yet this year, it was a bit of a mad last-minute idea, I was on my own, and wouldn’t it be colder early in the morning? But when I got to the beach I steeled myself, I’d done the hardest bit and got myself out of bed and down to the sea already, I couldn’t give up at that point.

So I went in. And it was freezing. Punch-the-breath-out-of-you ice cold. ‘Why on earth am I doing this?’ I thought as I struggled to wade further out, eventually just plunging into the water to get it over with. But as I had known, as everyone who ever ventures into our icy waters knows, that age-old wisdom is true: It’s lovely once you’re in.

I splashed around, gasping for breath, laughing in spite of myself as the salt stung my eyes and the weak morning sun shone down. I could see early morning dog walkers waving at me, and I grinned at them, not quite able to master the coordination needed to wave back.

Getting out was absolutely the worst bit, as it always is. But fighting underneath my towel to get myself dressed again on a breezy beach in the early morning, I realised I had made the best possible decision in going for a spontaneous swim. Sometimes even in times of stress - however big or small - there are little pockets of joy out there for the taking, and a mad morning whim can make you feel on top of the world.

Old friends

I wrote recently about my daughter reaching out to friends, and funnily enough just a couple of weeks later an old friend reached out to me. I hadn’t seen Fionnuala in more than 10 years: We had a very strong bond in the past, but had fallen out of touch. We first met at a mother and baby class decades ago, when I was pregnant with my first child. I didn’t really have any clue what to expect, but she had a daughter already and helped to reassure and guide me. At first we lived very near to each other, and soon our children were often playing together. But as with many long-term friendships, life got in the way.

Fionnuala and her husband emigrated to Canada for work, when their four children had grown a little. We wrote letters at first, but these became less and less frequent. After a few years Fionnuala wrote to say that she and her husband had been unhappy for some time, and that they had decided to part ways. I wrote back offering support, and we continued to keep in touch, but were nowhere near as close as we had been.

Several years ago, Fionnuala came back from Canada. I suggested we meet, but it didn’t happen and I wondered if as an old friend I reminded her too much of her former life in an unhappy marriage. I did see her son, who had been my godson. I loved seeing him grown up, and wrote to Fionnuala about these meetings, wishing I could have shared them with her as well.

Then one day, out of the blue, Fionnuala got in touch. Would I like to meet for lunch in a few weeks’ time? I was completely delighted and hugely looked forward to seeing her, but as the day in question drew closer I began to feel some trepidation. We had agreed to meet an equal distance from both our homes, which meant a drive of a couple hours for both of us. I became increasingly nervous during the long drive, wondering why Fionnuala had been so reluctant to meet before then, and why she had suddenly suggested lunch.

I arrived at our meeting place, stepped out of the car and in one swoop was engulfed in an almighty hug – with Fionnuala saying excitedly that she had been given two doses of vaccine. She blurted out: “I’m so pleased you came, I was so worried about meeting you, I’ve hardly slept for days.” Over the next few hours, during lunch and a 14km walk, we caught up on 10 years of absence from each other’s lives. I told Fionnuala how nervous I had been to see her, and she told me how difficult she had found it to reach out to me. I’m so glad that she did, and I hope this will be the first of many regular meetings – we have already arranged our next one!