Stop

Pausing and taking just a moment just for yourself can seem like you've stolen that moment from time. A deep breath, a quick look up, perhaps even a stretch of the limbs before we continue. How long is it possible to carry on going for?  Hours? Days? Weeks? Months ? 

How can we stop… and unravel ourselves?

I think the last time I truly unraveled my ball of string, aka my pent up stress and continuous need for control and achievement, was lock down. Never before, or indeed since, have I achieved that same level of peace and relaxation that I experienced when we were in the grasp of a pandemic! Strange innit??

Well not really…

When I stop I seem to become a better version of myself, so why I’m so caught up in work I just don’t know. Why do we do this to ourselves? Let me ask you, does it really matter anyway? I mean yes, of course it matters, for those who need to work (and yes, I do), you must do your best, but to the detriment of how you feel? That can’t be right. Is it an obsession perhaps?

I’ve arrived here in Wainwright country, up in the Lake District. I'm surrounded by natural beauty, and these hills don’t seem stressed! The lakes look pretty serene and the people don’t seem to be in a rush either, and yet it’s taken me a full 3 days to stop holding on so tight.

To 'unclench', and to allow my mind to wander without any worry or concern. The physical pains simply melt away when the brain begins to take the time to slow down.

I’ve been reading a lot about  the ‘Peri’ ( menopause) that’s been visiting me recently. The algorithms on my phone seem to be churning out ‘somatic yoga’ programs ..and it’s like they know ‘my hips don’t lie’ and that I’m stiff and achy.

What’s been happening to my hips and lady parts recently feels like I’ve been hanging on for dear life, I've been clenched and tensed to oblivion.

WHY?

What bit of bloody trauma needs a release now? Which pose do I need to do and 'breathe' through my genitals to let go?!

That’s it… it’s the letting go. Letting go of residual pain, angst, stress and anger. Let that shit go, it won’t serve you. Where energy goes, energy flows.

I know this, but do I?

How many of us are in a cyclical pattern of repetitive thoughts that bob around in our minds? I do find that writing them down helps, puts them into some kind of order, out of my mind and onto the page. If you haven’t tried that with something that's maybe playing over in your thoughts … please do. It’s always the simple stuff that’s most effective. We often have to hear or read something a few times before it sinks in.

As I sit here, tucked deep into the comfort and safety of the Lake District, the gentle curve of the hills combined with a warm breeze, running water, buttercup carpeted grass and an old stone bridge, I’m thinking about NOTHING, but the moment.

This week has been a lesson for me, and a reminder that there are other things far more important than the grind of daily life.

It’s been a busy few months; moving in with my partner was a huge milestone. The move itself was a stressor, however the living together is turning out to be easy… I guess that’s how you know it’s right.

As we spend quality time with each other and our friends, it’s a reminder of why we make a great couple. Mark, ( my partner), is an adventurer, with a passion for hill walking, whereas if you’ll recall previous posts of mine, you’ll know that hills are my nemesis. No thank you.

We’ve found a way that works for us which involves Mark going off and doing his thing, whilst I chill out on the flat, walk, write, read and chat with my friend Tiffany. Nigel,( Tiffany’s husband), is also an adventurer, so Mark has finally found his fellow outdoors buddy to trudge up the hills with, whilst we relax on a bench.

Listening to the birds I wonder what they are saying to each other. In the background I can hear the rushing waters of a stream and the distant buzzing of bees. This is heavenly. The forgotten tranquility that I find in nature.

Tomorrow we wave goodbye to our friends and head South, back home. A quick visit to see my mum on the way through is a nod to one of the cyclical thoughts that goes around in my head. It’s never an easy visit, and is emotional at the best of times. With a mum that’s been poorly for most of my adult life, even getting a coherent conversation is a challenge, and the visit always leaves me tense. Considering what I do for a living you’d think I'd be able to tap into the calm… or reason out my emotions without any detrimental effect. Sadly that particular shit runs deep, but with a supportive other half thankfully it's now easier.

I have learned that at the beginning of this week I was highly stressed. That I need to walk more again, and that I need to visit my osteopath! I’ve also learned that the kindness that our friends have shown us has been priceless, that sharing their home with us for the week has been such a restorative time allowing me to check back in with my own needs instead of balancing everyone else's.

The Lake District is a magical place, and if you peer closely enough you might just see the faint outline of fairy wings and hear the chatter of Tinkerbelle. Peter Rabbit has been charging over the fields and Flopsy, Mopsy and Cottontail have been up to no good! Mrs Tiggy Winkle has been chatting away and serving scones, cream and jam to all the walkers that pass by and Mr Mc Gregor has been sorting them all out! You don’t need to look far into your imagination up here to conjure up your childhood stories.

Thank you, hills, lakes, and friends, for your hospitality and a healthy dose of ‘the wholesome’, which will always be priceless to me.