The old Celts were very fond of the edges of things – the thresholds, the liminal spaces, dawns and dusks, fairy hills and misty trails where you couldn’t quite make out the way. Times and places that were neither one thing nor the other, that couldn’t quite be pinned down – ‘thin’ times and places, where the veils between this world and the other world were somewhat flimsier than normal, and you could never be quite sure what might happen.

Uncertainty

This love of uncertainty is in some ways the polar opposite to how we live today – our addiction to safety and security has led many people into a dullness they would not have chosen. And yet, safety, no matter how much we chase it, is an illusion. We are never more than one mis-step, one diagnosis, one phone call from chaos, from death, from loss. But we try not to think about that.

Samhain

Samhain, the Celtic festival from which sprang Hallowe’en, and which many believe was the Celtic new year, is an am caol, one of the primary ‘thin times’ of the Celtic calendar. It was believed that on this night, the spirits of those who had passed could return to earth – which led to traditions such as the wearing of masks and costumes by those who wanted to make sure they wouldn’t be recognised. It was also a time for divination and indeed we can still see the remnants of this tradition alive and well today as children slice the báirín breac (a type of fruit bread) with glee to see who will find the ring hidden inside and marry in the year to come!

A year of two halves

The Celts did not just divide their year into four seasons as we do today – they divided the year into a light half and a dark half. The light half began at the fire festival of Bealtaine, or May Day, and the dark half began at Samhain, at the beginning of November. And because every day began for these ancestors at sunset of the night before, the beginning of the year was the entry into darkness, not the emergence from it. Interestingly, many would characterise the inner journey as beginning in the same way – with a darkness, loss, or pain that pushes us into a new and sometimes unsought growth.

The time between

In my Anam Cara training, which was deeply rooted in the traditions of Celtic spirituality, I learned that while the old year might be said to end at sunset on October 31, the new year does not begin until a full 24 hours later, at sunset on November 1. The time between, neither one year nor the other, is the ‘thin time’ – a time where vision and insight becomes possible, when we remember and honour the ancestors and loved ones who have gone before us, knowing that the veils between us are thin.

Power of unnaming

In the same sense that ‘The Tao that can be named is not the Tao’, there is a power in this liminal time released from the bounds of the calendar, an unnamed time when, if we choose, we too can take some time to step out of the definitions that bind us in our daily lives, to take stock or simply be.

Honouring loved ones

It is a time when we can consider the griefs and losses of our lives – remembering and allowing ourselves to feel close to our ancestors, and the loved ones who have passed on. In my family we light candles for those bright souls on Hallowe’en and say their names, inviting their presence and guidance in our lives. We tell stories about them to the children, nurturing a sense of family and belonging through the generations.

Letting go

Grief and loss are not always connected to actual death and bereavement, however. As the trees are left bare by the falling of the leaves, in preparation for a new spring, we might also consider what gifts are to be found in letting go at the right time. As we move – at least in Ireland – from autumn to winter, we can ask what we have been holding onto that needs to be released.

Old dreams

Is there a part of our self-image that no longer serves us, that we could let go of? I’m thinking of the long-ago college graduate who still stores folders of outdated notes, identifying with that youthful self (me). Or perhaps the mother of growing children who still hangs on to her maternity clothes even though she knows there will be no more babies (also me). More subtly, we can look at our refusal to look in the mirror and acknowledge the passing of time, or the recognition that some of the dreams of our younger selves are now beyond us.

Present possibility

A clinging to old thought forms and patterns can prevent us from fully facing the pain of loss, but also prevents us from living fully and freely in the present. It is not easy to examine our lives and honestly admit that a long-held dream no longer fits. But by releasing those old dreams, we make space for new possibilities to emerge. By clearing our mental and emotional space, as well as our physical space, we create freedom. And this is the gift of the liminal space – it is here that possibility can arise.

Enter the unknown

So, this first day of November – the day that is neither one thing nor the other – I invite you to step consciously into the liminal space of your inner world and leave your assumptions at the door. You don’t have to go anywhere, or do anything, and don’t be too quick to hunt for answers. Just stay for a while in the uncertainty, the confusion, the loss, the pain – whatever is there. Feel into it, breathe into it. Don’t run away. Ask for guidance from your ancestors or loved ones on the other side of that thin veil. Enter the darkness where growth begins. And, sooner or later, the mist will clear and your next step will emerge.

 

It can be hard to make an inner journey without support, and sometimes having a companion on the road can be invaluable. If you think I can be of help to you, please get in touch here. I’d love to hear from you.

 

 

I’ve just returned home from a week camping by the sea. I visited a part of the coast so lovely that it almost makes me catch my breath every time I look out over the water. And yet… although I love to travel, there is nothing quite like coming back to my own place. I returned to one of my regular walking routes yesterday evening. The minute changes of a week – the slightly deeper colour of the beech leaves, the rowan berries more red and vibrant, the linden berries appearing on their long stalks, even the slight heaviness of the air that tells me we are into August now (Lúnasa in Irish: the time of first fruits) – all reminded me of my relationship with this place that is my home.

Relationship to place

Do you feel at home in the place where you live? Do you feel well there? Can you feel that you belong? We’ve all had the experience of arriving somewhere and feeling instantly at home, or landing somewhere else and feeling unwelcome. Sometimes a place just seems to suit; sometimes it doesn’t. Regardless, by consciously engaging with the place where you live, you can develop a relationship with it that can enhance your sense of well-being and connection.

Archetypes of the land

Dr Sharon Blackie writes beautifully about the importance of our relationship to our places in her books If Women Rose Rooted and The Enchanted Life. She describes how the archetypes of the land rise to inform our experience of it as our familiarity with a place grows. So, for example, a rocky hill can assume the aspect of a cranky old woman, or a bubbling stream the qualities of a playful child. These characters then come to people our imaginal worlds, teaching us about themselves, ourselves and life.

As Dr Blackie describes it, this is far more than the imposition of our mental constructs on to the land. It is rather a ‘coming to know’ the animate energy of the earth, in the way that indigenous peoples have always known it. This knowing may be lost to many of us who live in cities and have become divorced from the world outside. We may feel separate to nature or alienated from it. Perhaps we have lost the sense of being at home in the world, but luckily it can easily be rediscovered.

Benefits of time in nature

Many studies are now showing the benefits of spending time outside in nature (even the most recent issue of Clinical Psychology Review contains an article on the benefits of outdoor therapy). I would like to invite you to take that thought a step further.

I would like to ask you to consider that you are not separate to the ecosystem around you, but part of it. Not just part of the human community where you live but bound to the trees, the birds, the animals and insects. Your actions impact them, whether you let wildflowers grow in your garden to encourage pollinators, or spray pesticide, or feed the birds or drop litter. And not to forget, as you look at nature, it looks back at you. That crow on your front fence sees you, the urban fox that prowls your street knows your scent, the bees that buzz through your kitchen are aware of you.

The ‘sit spot’

One tool frequently used in ecotherapy that can begin to re-establish your relationship to place is the ‘sit spot’. This is precisely what it sounds like – a spot outside, easy to access daily (perhaps in your garden or a local park), where you can simply sit and observe what is around you. By making a daily ritual of going to your sit spot and simply sitting in silence for twenty minutes or so, you will begin to know the place and develop your relationship to it in a new way.

If twenty minutes sounds impossible, start by setting your phone timer for five minutes. Initially, you may not notice much, but if you stick with the practice, you will experience the seasonal changes. You will gradually begin to observe how the plants grow. You will see how different birds and insects make themselves known in different ways and at different times. Your sensitivity to nature and also to the currents of your own being will increase. It’s a very ordinary kind of magic but its effects can be profound.

Tips for getting started

• Make sure that your spot is safe – not too populated, but also not too isolated.
• Bring a mat if you plan to sit on the ground – especially important in the damp Irish climate.
• Set your intention as you arrive, whether it’s to increase your nature awareness, to connect with the spirit of the place, or something else.
• Take a few minutes to focus on your breath and relax your body, to become present.
• Focus on your sensory awareness – what can you see, hear, feel, smell?
• Observe what’s around you without assigning a value to it.
• Notice what images and impressions come to you – you might want to write these down at the end of your session.
• When you end your session, take a moment to appreciate and give thanks for what you have received. If you feel so inclined, you could make a ritual offering of water or perhaps some herbs or flowers.

Finding comfort in nature

I’ve had many sit spots over the course of my life, places I’ve been drawn back to repeatedly to reflect, rest, retreat and just sit. They’ve been varied – large flat rocks in country fields, low-hanging branches of ancient trees, grassy spots sheltered from the elements, even park benches with particular locations and views. Each of them has given me something different but I have learned from and been comforted by them all. When I’ve moved to new places and felt alone, finding a sit spot has always helped me to find my bearings, to feel at home.

Lockdown relief

More recently, during the lockdown experience, many of us were either deprived of our human connections or thrown into far too close company with them. Conditions such as depression, anxiety and even simple loneliness came to the fore for many people. In all of these cases, developing a conscious connection with the non-human world can help to restore balance, comfort and well-being. In times of trouble, a sit spot can quite literally save you.

Creating familiarity

I seek out my sit spot when I’m tired, when I need the sense of being held. The familiarity and the knowing of the landscape allows me to sit into it and be calmed. You don’t make a sit spot by going there once. It’s a thing formed by habit, by growing and tending a relationship with a place, just as you would with a person. It’s a slow courtship – a getting to know the air, the ground, the fragrances and aspects of the plants, the way particular creatures linger in particular ways. If you approach it with a conscious intention to build a connection, this relationship can nurture you and help you to feel at home in the world – wherever you are. I invite you to discover it for yourself.

 

If a sit spot practice sounds appealing, why not give it a try? There’s nothing to lose, it’s completely free and you can even do it while socially isolating. If you find that being in nature is healing for you, you might also find Walk & Talk Psychotherapy or Soul Care work helpful. I’ll be offering outdoor sessions again once Covid-19 restrictions ease. In the meantime, I’m available online, and I’d love to hear from you. Contact me here.

 

Those of us who find ourselves passing these lockdown days in the company of small children may find it challenging to set time aside for a regular meditation practice. This is especially true when your children wake before you in the morning and are in no hurry to fall asleep at night.

Challenging times

If this is your situation, you have my sympathy. I’m writing this as someone who was interrupted approximately every 3 ½ minutes during a carefully scheduled half hour set aside for spiritual practice yesterday. Solitude can be hard to maintain in the face of bathroom emergencies and an urgent need for snacks or conflict mediation. So, what to do?

I believe strongly in working with the growth material with which I am presented. It became apparent to me fairly quickly yesterday that it was not going to be a good day for silent meditation. That left me with two choices – either I could get upset about it, or I could accept it with good grace.

Conscious parenting

Everyone who tries to parent consciously practices a kind of karma yoga, whether they are aware of it or not. We are, with varying degrees of acceptance or resentment on any given day, on a path of service prompted by love. It’s there every time we wake to comfort a crying baby in the middle of the night, and during those interminable hours spent standing around a freezing cold playground. It’s there every time we give preference to the needs of a child over the cries of our own ego.

Life as spiritual practice

Yesterday, I gave into the inevitable, and with a few deep breaths came down from the metaphorical mountain and back into the fray. The challenge was to do it with good grace, reminding myself that as Eckhart Tolle writes, “The primary cause of unhappiness is never the situation but our thoughts about it”. I responded to each child’s need in turn, dispensing hugs, snacks, correct spellings, and then I got caught before I could move on: “Mum, will you play Lego with me?”

Lego as mindfulness practice

I’m not averse to Lego, and I’m certainly not averse to playing with my children. However, it’s easy for me to get caught up in the whirl of all that must be done, and tell myself that I’ll have time for play later. I’ll play after the laundry, the dinner, the phone call that must be made, the article that needs editing. It’s too easy to push away the present moment for the to-do list.

Anyway, the earnestly pleading eyes caught me, and down I sat to submit to the instructions of a young master builder. And here is what I discovered – Lego is excellent mindfulness practice.

Building in the present moment

I know that Thich Nhat Hahn, the great teacher of mindfulness, has written about doing the dishes mindfully, and that is undoubtedly an equally worthy practice, but Lego! As a parent assisting in Lego construction, you must remain entirely in the present moment, because you have rarely an idea of your goal beyond the most general terms. You have no idea what it is that you are trying to build beyond the fact that it is a vehicle of some sort and will probably have several turbo jets and at least three blasters.

Appreciating the impossible task

You are presented with an enormous tub, full of multi-coloured blocks of varying sizes and shapes (ours is a repurposed baby bath, just to give a sense of size) and informed that your task is to find “one of these little round bits, but it has to be orange and it has to be the one with the round top, not the flat top.”

You enter the present moment entirely, seeking, sifting, enjoying the colours, the smooth plastic texture, the intriguing shapes of the odd bits. Your attention must be diffused, your gaze soft; if it’s too focused, you’ll never find anything.

Body awareness

You breathe, you become aware of your posture as you sit cross-legged on the floor. The stiffness in your shoulders becomes apparent. The feeling of the wooden floor against your bare feet is pleasantly warm. Every movement becomes conscious, deliberate, slow. Nowhere else to be, nothing else to do. You relax.

Letting go of attachment

The piece may be there, it may not. It may have been sucked up by the vacuum cleaner last week. There is absolutely no point being attached to the outcome of this exercise. All you can do is accept what is, internally and externally. Just be present fully.

You sift, handful by handful, while remaining aware enough to catch a flash of orange from the far corner. Eventually you find success, a glimpse of orange plastic nirvana. “Thanks,” says the master builder casually, “now I need one of these blue two-piecers, but it has to be the light blue, not the dark blue.”

You release attachment to your achievement and move on, over and over again as many times as it takes. A bit like life, really.

Mindful relationship

Another quote I’m fond of from Thich Nhat Hanh states “The most precious gift we can offer anyone is our attention. When mindfulness embraces those we love, they will bloom like flowers”.

And yes, this is the other way in which playing Lego with a child is a wonderful exercise. Apart from teaching us about the cultivation of a mindful attitude within ourselves, it teaches us about mindful attention to another.

While we as parents spend a great deal of time taking care of our children, those moments when we sit in silent absorption with them, engaged on a joint project, working together, can be few and far between. This is especially true if there is more than one child on the scene. And yet, these times are precious.

Precious moments

Sitting building Lego, I become aware of how methodical my child is, how he arranges the pieces in such an organised way. He is clearly working to a plan in his head of which I am ignorant, but of which he is certain and confident. I notice the delicacy of movement and increasing complexity of thought and motion. I see how he loves explaining to me how the different pieces fit together, what this arm will do, or how tall that tower needs to be. He is blooming, as Thich Nhat Hanh wrote, like a flower in the light of my undivided mindful attention. And suddenly I am tremendously glad and grateful that my meditation was interrupted today, because this moment feels so exquisite and precious that I would hate to have missed it.

Everyday spirituality

Even those of us who consciously cultivate a spiritual practice can be guilty all too often of creating an artificial boundary between our practice and the rest of our lives. There is no boundary, there can be no boundary. Every moment in which we are consciously present, consciously breathing, consciously loving and engaging, is a moment of spiritual practice. Those hours spent sitting in silence are not an end in themselves, they are a training, a reminder of what we are trying to bring to every other moment of the day. Sometimes we succeed, and realise it, and the realisation is exquisite. And then, of course, we release it and move on because that’s just the way life is.

Are you wondering how you might bring mindfulness practice into your daily life? Start right now. Breathe in slowly, breathe out slowly. Feel the breath moving through your body, feel the air on your skin. Notice how your body feels. All you’re doing is breathing, but you’re doing it with intention and that’s the beginning of mindfulness.

There are lots of wonderful mindfulness resources available online. Thich Nhat Hanh and Eckhart Tolle are two great authors with whom to begin. If you’d like to explore how you can begin to live more in the present moment and less in distraction and stress, you can also contact me for an appointment. I’d love to hear from you.

It seems that everyone (at least in my corner of the internet) is talking about Covid-19 dreams – the strange, unsettling and unusually vivid dreams they’ve been experiencing since the pandemic has begun to make itself felt. Several studies are underway, including this one from noted dream researcher Dr. Deirdre Barrett at Harvard Medical School, and publications as diverse as National Geographic and Vogue are getting in on the act. [Edited to add: Dr Deirdre Barrett’s book Pandemic Dreams is now available to buy here.] So, what’s the story?

Lots to process

Well, to begin with, it’s probably not surprising that anxiety dreams are on the rise since the beginning of the Covid-19 pandemic. Our dreams help us process what’s going on in our daily lives, and in circumstances like these, there’s a lot to process.

Changes in routine

In addition, many people’s daily routines and hence their sleep patterns have changed significantly. Maybe you’re no longer getting up as early in the morning, maybe you’re staying up later at night, maybe you’re logging a lot more computer time than you normally do, and getting less exercise. All of these factors can affect your sleep, making your dreams more vivid and closer to the surface.

Virus imagery

You may be experiencing dreams directly about the virus, with awareness of people wearing masks or avoiding each other on the street, or perhaps people becoming ill and dying. You may even find yourself dreaming about that vivid image that’s been all over the media of the globular, many-armed virus cell. Often, the visual dream imagery relating to the virus reflects the visual imagery you’ve been engaging with in waking life, so if you’ve been watching a lot of TV news, or spending a lot of time online with virus-related material, it wouldn’t be unexpected for these kinds of images to show up.

Indirect references

Even if you’re not dreaming directly about the coronavirus, it might be still be significantly impacting your dreams. That’s because the language of dreams is figurative, not literal. What do I mean by that? Well, one example might be if you are terrified of rollercoasters. Your brain associates the image of a rollercoaster with that feeling of extreme terror. So, when you are trying to process another experience of terror, you might find a rollercoaster popping up in your dream, seemingly at random.

Nightmares and anxiety dreams

Disturbing and upsetting dreams can be divided into two broad categories. Nightmares are those terrifying or traumatic dreams that wake you up with your heart pounding and a need to turn on the lights. They can have various causes, for example PTSD following a traumatic incident. Anxiety dreams are a lower grade of disturbance – they’re not generally terrifying; but they’re the dreams that leave you upset, disturbed, with a nagging uneasy feeling. They might leave you feeling bad about yourself. They might also be recurring, showing up at regular or irregular intervals, especially when certain things are happening in your waking life.

Why am I having anxiety dreams?

Although it mightn’t seem like it, anxiety dreams are your friends. They point out issues in your waking life that you need to deal with, but that you might have been consciously or unconsciously avoiding. Often, once the waking life issue is brought to consciousness and dealt with, the anxiety dream will resolve itself.

Threat rehearsal dreams

Threat simulation theory, as proposed in this review by Finnish researcher Antti Revonsuo, suggests that a biological function of dreams is to allow us to rehearse threatening situations that we are likely to encounter, thus increasing our chances of negotiating them successfully. He suggests that our early ancestors might, for example, have dreamed of hunting, thus ‘practising’ and honing their skills during sleep.

Cognitive gain from anxiety dreams

A modern example supporting threat simulation theory can be seen in a study carried out at the Sorbonne university in Paris in 2014 by neuroscientist Isabelle Arnulf. Her team examined the dreams of students the night before their medical school entrance exam. They found that those who had had a negative dream about the exam the night before achieved higher grades, leading them to conclude that there is a cognitive gain from the negative anticipation of a stressful event in dreams.

Following this logic, those Covid-19 dreams could be helping your anxious brain to anticipate the (often wildly unlikely) threats you might encounter, enabling you to figure out your best moves ahead of time.

Five common anxiety dreams

While everyone’s dreams are different, and everyone’s fears and anxieties are different, there are some anxiety dreams that tend to pop up a lot. Below, I’ve looked at five common anxiety dreams and offered some suggestions about what they might mean.

Again, there are no universal dream definitions – a dream symbol means what it means to you. In the example I used above, a rollercoaster might symbolise sheer terror to one dreamer, but a fun adventure to another. It all depends on your personal associations. The most reliable guide to your dreams is your feelings – if you can become adept at recognising the feelings associated with your various dream symbols, you’ll be half-way to deciphering them.

Falling

Falling dreams are very common and can signify feeling overwhelmed, out of control or powerless to prevent a negative outcome. Are you perhaps falling down in some area of your life? Are you about to hit rock bottom? It’s worth noting that while many people dream of falling, hardly anyone dreams of landing (you’ll usually wake up first).

Failing an exam

Failing an exam is another dream that most people have at one point or another. I remember years after finishing school, I dreamed of having to sit the Leaving Cert again (but this time the material had changed and I hadn’t studied). I wasn’t going back to school, but there were other challenges that I was worried about not meeting successfully. Are there tests, challenges or deadlines looming in your life? Are you worried about not making the grade in some part of your life?

Naked in public

Appearing naked in public is another common anxiety dream, and for many of us, this could represent fears of being exposed, or feelings of vulnerability. Are you aware of your areas of vulnerability? What are the parts of yourself that you try to keep hidden from others?

Runaway car

If you dream of being trapped in an out of control car, it’s worth asking where you feel trapped or out of control in your life. Is someone else in the driving seat in your life? Are you headed somewhere you don’t want to go? Do you need to apply the brakes to a situation in your life?

Being chased

If you dream about being chased by a threatening figure, turn it around and try to figure out what you’re running away from in your life. Is there a situation, person or confrontation that you’ve been avoiding? Maybe it’s a part of yourself that you can’t face, or a truth that seems threatening. You’ll never know unless you turn around to see what it is.

What can I do about my disturbing dreams?

A first step to try resolve disturbing dreams is simply to establish a relaxing pre-bed routine, and to eliminate screens for at least two hours before bed. If your bad dreams are due to stress or mental over-stimulation, this should help.

Otherwise, consider that a dream may be trying to get your attention to illuminate some unresolved issue in your life. Once you start to work with the dream – and more importantly, to pay attention to the issue it’s highlighting, the disturbing dreams will often resolve themselves.

However, if they don’t, there are some things you can try. One technique often used to work with disturbing dreams is dream re-entry. You can try this alone if you feel comfortable doing so, or else with professional help. Here’s how it works…

First close your eyes and take some time to relax your body, perhaps with a breathing exercise or progressive relaxation. Then imagine your dream in as much detail as possible. See your dream just as it happened, but with one big difference. This time, you get to change the ending. You can talk to the threatening characters in the dream, ask them what they want. You can imagine yourself dealing with the dream threat in a capable, even heroic manner. Complete the dream in your imagination in a way that satisfies you, until it no longer scares or disturbs you. You can do this several times until your new created version of the dream becomes more real to you than the original.

Some final advice

Remember, the world is not normal at the moment. The situations in which many of us find ourselves are difficult and in some cases extremely traumatic. We are all trying to make sense of things and our dreams will most likely reflect our concerns and fears as we move through this pandemic experience. Which is to say, don’t worry too much if you have bizarre or upsetting dreams. That might simply be a normal response to an abnormal situation. Your strange dreams might be just what you need to help you process your daily experiences and get through them.

 

If you’d like to work more with your nightmares, your Covid-19 dreams, or any other dreams for that matter, I’d love to hear from you. During the current lockdown restrictions, I am available for phone or online sessions. Contact me for more details.

It was the Greek philosopher Heraclitus who said that we can’t step into the same river twice. Constantly in flux, the river is never the same from one second to the next, and neither are we. Our skin and hair renew themselves, our breath flows in and out, we age imperceptibly moment by moment. Our inner selves change too, as we learn, reflect, face challenges, ask questions and experience life in all its drama and everyday wonder. In life, as any parent of a young child knows, change is the only constant.

 

Illusions of constancy and control

The funny thing about change, given that it is such an essential and unavoidable part of the human experience, is that most of us are absolutely terrified of it. We cling to the illusion of constancy and strenuously resist any hint that it might be just that – an illusion.

We cling to the illusion of control, though all it takes is one unexpected phone call, one doctor’s diagnosis, or one misstep in traffic, to show us that our control is very arbitrary indeed. As we have all seen over the past few weeks, change can strike at any time, and there’s very little we can do about it.

 

Fear of change

The problem with our fear of change is that fear throws us out of our conscious thinking selves into our instinctive responses. We can see these in ourselves as we look at our responses to the spread of Covid-19. Some of us went into denial, insisting that it was only a flu. Others went into panic-buying mode, stockpiling toilet paper and tinned food beyond all reasonable measure, while others went into emotional paralysis, freezing like a rabbit caught in the headlights, waiting helplessly for something terrible to happen.

For many of us, this lockdown is the biggest societal upheaval we have ever lived through. Our fears may relate to potential loss of income, health, life and loved ones, as well as the unknown – what will our world look like on the other side of this?

Our challenge is to fully embrace the things we hold dear, while recognising that they and we are vulnerable to forces greater than ourselves.

 

Time to reflect

For many of us, these days of solitude and enforced quietude provide an opportunity to reflect on our lives. Before the boundaries of our external lives so dramatically narrowed, were we living to the full extent of our freedom? Our had we trapped ourselves in lives half lived, of passion damped down and bold steps never taken?

Sometimes we are afraid to fully commit to what we have in case we lose it. Sometimes we are afraid to commit to what we have in case we get stuck with it, and sometimes we are afraid to let go of what no longer fits us in case we are left with nothing.

What we forget or fail to see is that committing fully need not mean committing forever. However, committing fully to ourselves and the growth of our own hearts will provide us with a guide to the next right step, which is sometimes as far ahead as we can see.

 

Unstoppable life

We see a beautiful example of change in our seasonal cycle – each season flows into the next, constantly moving, constantly flowing, always changing. Our appreciation or lack of it does not affect the weather, but only our own moods. And we can never stop its inevitable flow.

In our lives, we often try to stop the cycle of change when we’ve got to a point that feels like summer. We have to be dragged kicking and screaming into autumn, and winter is unthinkable. Yet all seasons are necessary for the totality of the experience, and winter is essential preparation for a new spring.

Sometimes change requires that a part of us die in order to let a new self emerge. If we don’t die as a child, we’ll never become an adult. If we don’t die to being single, we’ll never be able to embrace partnership. And if we are not willing to change, we never will, and there are few thoughts more frightening.

At the moment, our society is undergoing a figurative death – quite apart from the literal death toll, life is changing in ways that may never return to our so-called normal. And maybe, the new world that emerges will be better than that which came before.

 

Releasing attachment

We resist change because we are afraid to let go of what we have. We have emotional attachments to those things that are familiar to us, whether they are beneficial or not. What would it mean to give up those attachments? To enjoy those things we have, while accepting that they might not ours to keep?

There is a Buddhist story of a teacher who gave his student a beautiful cup. “See it as if it were already broken”, he said, “eventually, everything is broken”. Nothing lasts forever, and realising this enables us to enjoy our treasures fully each moment we have them, without denying their transience.

 

Lessons from death

People who have come close to death often report that afterwards, they begin to experience life more intensely. They love more, laugh more, appreciate more, and devote themselves to the things that are really important to them. They become greedy for life because they know that sooner or later, it will pass. How many of us now are gaining a new perspective on the wonder of things we may never have appreciated, like family gatherings, coffee with friends, theatre or cinema outings, a wander around town, a trip abroad?

What if, when we die, we must account for all the blessings and pleasures of life that we failed to enjoy? Many of us would regret the time spent worrying and all the changes we resisted for fear of what might happen.

 

Facing our fears

In a situation like the current one, it can be very difficult to face our fears. Sometimes it can help to say them out loud, either alone or with a trusted other. ‘I am afraid that X might happen’. Feel it, sit with it, and lean into it, even just for a few seconds. Feel the emotions and body sensations that come up. Don’t retreat into your thoughts. Then, when you need to, let those feelings go. Just bring that fear to consciousness, feel into it, and let it go. Do it often – think of it as training for the soul.

 

Allow uncertainty

Sometimes when change has hit hard, there’s a temptation to grab onto whatever rock presents itself – even if it’s not the right one. I suggest instead floating with the uncertainty for a while, and waiting to see what comes up.

Learning to be with uncertainty, learning to be with emptiness, and silence, and pain, makes us strong. It enables us to choose how we respond to life, rather than reacting from a place of fear and pain.

Sitting with uncertainty is also a good way to get to know yourself. Let the things that are not essential to you pass away, and you will find that which is truly you. Don’t rush the process. Sit in the emptiness until something new begins to grow.

 

Trust the process

Mystics of every tradition know this: the only way to get beyond the individual self is to let go of certainty, assumptions and judgements. The mystic can let go of her prejudices, of her fears, of everything she has learned, because she trusts implicitly that she will be taken care of, and that the universe sees a bigger picture than she does. She feels the pain and fear of change on a human level, but on a deeper level she trusts, and eventually her trust carries her through. 

 

This too will pass

The only thought remaining is that while we are at this moment in a time of unprecedented upheaval and change, this too will pass. The tides will turn again and life will calm itself and we will emerge different into a world that has itself changed.

Now is the time to dream those changes, to consider what of the old world we wish to keep, and what we need to let go of.

Now is the time to consider those parts of our existence – both individual and collective – that weren’t nurturing us, that weren’t bringing us to life.

Finally, now is the time to let thoughtful, soulful change incubate in us, to let life dream in us and through us and to let new possibilities for a better life and a better world emerge.

I am reminded of the beautiful prayer of the medieval mystic Julian of Norwich: “All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well.” May we dream, and trust as we dream, that all manner of thing shall eventually be well.

 

If you’d like to talk about change, about the current pandemic, or about anything else on your mind, contact me to set up an appointment. Currently, I can take appointments by phone or video. I look forward to hearing from you.

 

So, now it really is a lockdown. Despite the Taoiseach preferring to avoid the term, it’s the one we’ve been using in my household since the schools closed on March 12th, and it’s beginning to seem more and more apt.

Actually, in my household, we pretty much have been in lockdown except for essential shopping and the occasional solo jog or walk since the schools closed. It has felt safer that way; we’ve been as careful as we could be, and so we’ve been pretty confident we would be safe.

And then today I went into panic when someone helpfully reminded me that I had put away the grocery shopping without disinfecting each individual item. Despite that careful 20 second handwash on re-entering the house, I suddenly realised I could have been the cause of spreading contagion in our nice safe home and my anxiety levels hit the roof.

It made me realise that the lockdown tension that is so palpable in the air these days isn’t too far from the surface in me either. So, since we’ve moved from general lifestyle overwhelm to specific situation overwhelm, what is to be done?

 

Allow for differences

It’s important to recognise that people respond differently to stressful situations, and lockdown is definitely a stressful situation.

Some people need routines to help them maintain a sense of order and comfort, while others might find that the imposition of strict routines simply adds to the stress.

Some people rush into caregiving mode, while others might dive into research to try understand exactly what’s going on, or even shut it all out by escaping into TV boxsets. We’re all different.

This video from YouTubers Leeann and Michelle captures it brilliantly by illustrating how each of the nine Enneagram personality types might respond to the Covid-19 crisis. There is no right way (as long as you wash your hands and take all sensible precautions) to get through this time. Do whatever it takes to stay present and to maintain mental, physical, emotional and spiritual health for your family.

 

Acknowledge the difficult feelings

The hard truth is that none of us know how this will play out. We are all sitting with a certain amount of anxiety, uncertainty and even fear. If we deny and push these feelings away, the one sure thing is that they will eventually erupt in destructive ways.

How can we acknowledge our difficult feelings without letting them take charge? One way is to set limits for them. Sit down with pen and paper and set your phone timer for 20 minutes. Let loose onto a piece of paper – spill out every thought you’ve been pushing down, so that it is no longer taking up valuable space in your head.

When the timer goes off, finish up, hold the paper for a moment. Take a deep breath and recognise that you are not your thoughts. Take another deep breath. Then tear up the paper and either burn it if you can do so safely, or throw it away. And remember, you have your thoughts but you are not your thoughts. Your thoughts do not have to be in charge.

 

A breath of fresh air

Fresh air will help you. Whether you have a balcony, a garden or even just a window, let some air into your space. Go for a walk if you can. Listen to the birds – they are nest-building at the moment. There’s a beautifully glossy magpie outside my window who has spent his morning gathering twigs from the unkempt border between my garden and next door’s. I may have been imagining his gleeful triumph every time he extracted a piece nearly too big to carry, but it still did my heart good. The daffodils are out, the trees are budding and the sun – at least today – is shining. Let them bring you joy.

 

Come together

One of the more beautiful parts of this lockdown period has been, for me, the ways in which communities have come together to take care of each other. Whether it’s a WhatsApp group to connect neighbours, offer errands and trade jokes, or more organised community initiatives to deliver food and medicines to the vulnerable, I have been touched deeply by how willing and eager people are to connect once they get past their busyness and inhibitions.

If we could all emerge from this lockdown period with a new appreciation for our neighbours and the communities to which we belong, our lives might be richer for it. And, because it seems appropriate, but also because it made me tear up – this gorgeous song from Cristovam Music says it all.

 

Just relax

It’s ok to have a bad day. None of us is going to be on top form all the way through this experience. This doesn’t have to be your best ever lockdown. Nobody is grading you. You just have to get through it, keep breathing, keep caring, day by day, moment by moment.

But remember, the extension of this thought is that it’s ok for those we live with to have their bad days too. Perhaps the single greatest thing we can do for each other right now is simply this – to be kind. Let us be forgiving of ourselves and each other in our imperfection, and just give each other a break.

 

Time for change

This experience might change us all, and that might not be a bad thing. As much as we might push it aside and distract ourselves with internet memes, what we are being presented with here is a glimpse of (if not a headlong crash into) our own mortality. In some ways, if we can face it, engage with it and not run away, this is an initiation into life, an invitation to engage with things we may have spent a great deal of time and energy avoiding until now.

Some years ago, I carried out some postgraduate research on the experiences of people who lived through a ‘dark night of the soul experience’ (not necessarily in the classical sense), and who emerged feeling that they had grown and changed significantly as a result of their experiences.

I’m not claiming post-traumatic growth to be a universal experience, but one of the characteristics of people who have hit rock bottom and come out the other side tends to be the drastic re-ordering of priorities. The loss of all that was once held dear can lead to the realisation that a great deal of life has been spent chasing the wrong things and ignoring that which is truly important.

A lockdown, a forced retreat from social life and consumption, the enforced solitude (for some) and enforced closeness (for others) can be an invitation to re-evaluate and explore what really matters. What do you miss? What don’t you miss? Are there parts of your life that need to change? Are there parts of this lockdown experience that you’d like to carry into the future?

 

An invitation

A little imagination exercise – you might want to take some time with pen and paper for this one. If you were facing your death now – would you feel that you had lived a good and full life? What have been the great blessings of your life? What have been the challenges and regrets? Do you have unfinished business? Are there things you would change if you still had the chance? What feelings come up when you consider your own death? Can you stay with them for a while without running away? What are the gifts you have brought to the world? What are the gifts you wish you could have brought to the world but never had the chance?

On the wall of my little home office is a postcard with a quote from Sydney Smith, the 19^th century Anglican cleric: “A great deal of talent is lost to the world for the want of a little courage”. The great gift of this imaginary encounter with death is that it is not final. We are still here. We can still choose every day how we want to live and who we want to be. All it takes is a little courage.

 

Looking ahead

I have heard many people remarking that this pandemic has shown us that great and speedy societal change is possible. Many more have voiced the wish that we could mobilise with similar force and intent to avert the equally serious – if not quite as immediate – climate crisis. Perhaps a dramatic re-ordering of priorities on a societal level is at hand, and we can now consider what it is that we wish to carry forward as a society into the post-Covid-19 future. May we – collectively – make the right decisions for all of us as we look ahead.

 

If you are struggling with the lockdown experience, if it’s triggering anxiety, depression, loneliness, existential angst or other issues, it might help to talk. I’m available for phone or video sessions online – contact me here for further details

 

It’s normal, in today’s world, to live a full life.

Increasingly, we have complicated and multi-faceted work lives which may take several forms, as well as commitments to children, parents, partners and friends who may need our time, presence and attention.

Further study, sporting and other interests, community involvement… downtime can seem fleeting and rare. And then there’s the housing market. And the climate crisis. That’s without even mentioning the curveball that is COVID-19.

It can seem that there is pressure in almost every area of life to do more, show up more, work harder, manage better – and no matter how much we do, we are left with the nagging feeling that it’s not enough, and that everyone else seems to be coping more easily than we are. Overwhelm can easily ensue.

 

Stress and overwhelm

This combination of external demands and internal pressure can lead quickly to stress and overwhelm, which can affect us on all levels. Chronic stress can cause many health problems, including muscle tension, fatigue, migraines, high blood pressure, ulcers and digestive problems, not to mention anxiety, panic attacks, insomnia and depression.

What is so insidious about this kind of overwhelm is that while it may begin in one area of our lives, its effects can quickly spread. Sustained stress can make us angry and irritable, which can play havoc with relationships. Overwhelm can create cognitive fatigue, leading to confusion, inability to concentrate and poor memory, which makes it hard to work. If left unchecked, it can lead to burnout, which is a far more serious condition, requiring a far greater level of treatment and recovery.

Well, the one thing we can all agree on is that this is no way to live. So, if life is getting on top of you, what is to be done? Here are a few tips to help you begin to deal with overwhelm in your life.

 

The common factor

As obvious as it may sound, the common factor in all the aspects of your life is – you. Take a moment to imagine yourself as a tree, being blown by gusts of wind from all sides (these being the pressures and demands of your life). It is quickly apparent that the only thing preventing such a tree from being blown over entirely is its roots.

Where are your roots? What are the things in your life that give you strength and help you stand strong? You need to find, either alone or with the help of a therapist, a way to come back to a strong and centred place every day.

Some of the things that will help you to stand strong might include spiritual practice, intentionally connecting with the people close to you, spending time in nature, running or taking part in a sport that you enjoy, playing a musical instrument, doing something fun or creative.

Note that escape behaviours like drinking, drugs, overeating or passive consumption of tv or social media won’t provide more than momentary relief and can ultimately contribute to the problem.

The important thing is that every single day you remember what it feels like to be having fun, to be relaxed, to be yourself. This keeps you from getting lost. If you feel like you’re already lost, you may need a little help, and this is where a therapist or an Anam Cara might be able to assist.

 

Who’s in your head?

Who is putting all the pressure on you? Is it other people, or is it yourself? There are situations where pressure is indeed externally generated – by a demanding boss, looming exams, or indeed by a new baby.

However, in almost every stressful situation, there is an inner gremlin adding to the fun by telling you how useless you are, how badly you’re doing and how your best efforts are never good enough.

Sometimes these voices come from far in the past – are you working yourself to the point of exhaustion in defiance of the long-ago teacher who said you were lazy and would never get anywhere? Or are you afraid to disappoint anyone, having internalised the parent who once called you selfish?

Take some time to notice, or even to write down some of these little internal monologues, and ask yourself where they might come from. You might be surprised at the answers.

If you can disidentify yourself from these inner voices, you can choose whether you wish to remain compelled by them. Perhaps you can consciously replace them with a more positive form of self-talk.

 

Know your priorities and your limits

What are the most important things in your life. Can you list them – 1,2,3?

Now, where do you spend the greatest part of your time and energy. Make another list – 1,2,3.

How do your two lists correspond? Ideally, they would be similar, if not identical. However, for many of us, the two lists bear little resemblance to each other.

We are each limited to 24 hours in a day, and a certain amount of energy to spend in that time. If we constantly overspend ourselves, our mental, physical and emotional wellbeing begins to suffer. Recognising our limits allows us to be more intentional about where we spend our energy. If you are spending large portions of your time and energy on things that are not that important to you, can you make changes? Practice saying no to requests and invitations. If this feels impossible, buy yourself some space by saying something like ‘I’ll have to check my calendar and get back to you’.

As a friend said to me recently, it’s time to change FOMO for JOMO. Instead of doing too much from fear of missing out, we can start to take care of ourselves by discovering the joy of missing out – saying no to all but the truly appealing invitations.

 

Get outside

Science has now proven something that many of us have always intuitively known to be true. Time spent outside helps to reduce stress and increase wellbeing. A study carried out at the University of East Anglia in 2018 found that exposure to green space (defined as open, undeveloped land with natural vegetation as well as urban green spaces, such as parks and street greenery)  reduces the risk of several health conditions, including type II diabetes, cardiovascular disease, premature death, preterm birth, stress, and high blood pressure. Researchers even noted that exposure to green space significantly reduces people’s levels of salivary cortisol, a physiological marker of stress.

So, go for a walk (or try some walk and talk therapy). For bonus points, get out in the garden and get your hands dirty; another recent study from the University of Colorado at Boulder has shown that contact with soil can help your mental health, thanks to the presence of the bacterium, Mycobacterium vaccae, which can quell stress-related disorders. I’m sure any gardeners reading this will not be surprised in the slightest!

 

Practical tips

• Meditate – even ten minutes each day will help you to calm down, lower your cortisol levels and reduce your residual stress.
• Look for the quick wins – if your to do list is overwhelming, identify a few items you can get rid of quickly (pay that bill, make that phone call). It will give you a sense of achievement.
• Be realistic with your time – take one hour at a time, figure out what you can actually achieve in that time. Then practice saying no to demands that exceed those limits.
• Ask for help – you don’t have to do everything alone. It’s ok to admit that you can’t handle all the demands all the time. Family and friends may be available to step up, but don’t be afraid to seek professional help as well.
• Accept your emotions, even (or especially) when negative. Feel them, breathe through them and know they will pass.
• Try stay in the present and use your breath to bring yourself back when you feel yourself getting stressed or anxious.
• You may disappoint others, and that’s ok. Your mental, emotional and physical health is more important, to you and to those who love you. Prioritise it, and take the space you need in order to get well again.

 

A short piece like this can only scratch the surface of complex issues like chronic stress and overwhelm. If you’d like to talk about it, or if you’d like help in returning balance to your life, contact me. I’d love to hear from you.