Being thankful and simple pleasures.

Major life events can be called life-changing in a dramatic way, but undramatic, day-to-day choices can end up being life-changing too.  (I see that the film, 'Sliding Doors' is on TV this evening. A case in point.) In my life, answering the college telephone, overhearing a customer in a local shop and changing a collection point for a charity, all changed my life immeasurably. 

This short blog is about a dramatic, life-changing life event. Two years ago today, my husband unusually complained of a stomach-ache. Twenty-fours later he was undergoing life-saving and life-changing surgery. Thank-you NHS and Mr Gatt at Scarborough hospital.

I reminded him of the anniversary today and he said that he hadn’t realised what day it was and didn’t really want to think about it, because of negative memories. That's a useful way of managing upsetting memories, "If you pick it, it won't get better." But I reminded him that it was also the anniversary of survival and how we made some positive changes to daily living.

It’s been a beautiful, autumn day today. We took the opportunity to go for a local walk, exploring a part of town that we hadn’t visited before. Before the illness, if a lovely day was in the week, we would have stayed in, working. Then, probably complained at a soggy weekend that often followed. Today, we made hay while the sun shined.

It may sound trite and perhaps schmaltzy, but we find some pleasure in every day and are thankful. I've always had Pollyanna Syndrome and know it can be trying for people sometimes, but I'm also realistic. Of course, there is plenty to complain about and to be concerned about, but there is always something to be thankful for too.  It doesn't seem to do any harm and we can also be more choosy about what we worry about and how much we worry. 

"I've had a lot of worries in my life, most of which never happened." Mark Twain

Nearly being deprived of small, simple pleasures has heightened our appreciation of them. I recall a client, who found counting three blessings before getting up in the morning, helped her manage the domestic chaos that awaited her outside the bedroom door. I know of people who chose to do something similar at the end of the day.

When I ran the practice, I often used this quote to help clients:

“…we live in the past or in the future; we are continually expecting the coming of some special moment when our life will unfold itself in its full significance. And we do not notice that life is flowing like water through our fingers.”   

Father Alexander Elchaninov

Not living for the day, but in the day.

©AlisonRRussell2015

Do you see, but not observe?

This is the extended* Wellbeing Column from the York Press on August, 31st 2015.

http://www.yorkpress.co.uk/features/health/13630212.Do_you_see__but_not_observe_/

My teenage grandsons have been staying with us, on their annual holiday.

We visited a local ‘hidden gem’ on bicycles. A wooded glen with a waterfall falling in a rocky cove. The boys loved exploring the area and on returning home asked if they could visit it again. We returned two days later. This time, the weather was even better and as we came through the trees, the North Sea appeared before us, an iridescent Mediterranean blue, matching the sky. A small yacht was moored in the cove and added to an idyllic scene. 

The boys went off to explore. Some families were picnicking and examining rock pools in the cove below the ledge, on which I remained. One father had gathered a few sticks of driftwood and was showing his children how to make a fire in a small circle of rocks. A fragrant, light pall of smoke drifted upwards to near where I was sitting on a boulder, reading the Sunday papers. The only sounds were of laughter and waves gently lapping the shore. It was warm, sunny, peaceful and pretty near perfect.

A few people came up and down the paths and an older couple appeared with a dog. The man climbed down to the pebbly beach with the dog, to take photos of the waterfall. The woman stood on the ledge and turned to me, saying with faint disgust, “I’ve come all this way for this! There aren’t even any seats.” I suggested that the boulders made comfortable seating. 

The woman moved twenty feet away, across the waterfall, to sit on a rock in the shelter of the cliff. She managed to get a signal on her mobile phone and spoke loudly about her dissatisfaction with everything. After the phone call, she made a roll-up, which she smoked with vigour. The pleasant, light breeze meant that her face was enveloped in smoke. I make no judgement on the woman’s activities, only in being bemused about what happened next. 

The man returned with the dog and the woman walked back across the rocks to join them. As they passed me on leaving the cove, she turned to me again and said, “ those people with the fire have ruined it for everyone.”

The boys arrived back full of wonder at their exploration of the glen. They sported grubby knees and wet shoes. They had taken photos of what one of them called called, “ the prettiest place I have ever seen.” I suggested exploring a different path, which they did happily and provided further delights. I thought that their beloved electronic devices couldn’t provide such memories.

I returned to my Sunday papers. In one article, someone had written about Sherlock Holmes. They wrote that Sherlock was often saying to Dr Watson, “ You see, but you don’t observe.”

Perhaps the same could be said for some of the visitors to the cove that afternoon. 
.................................

* I know that I have touched on this subject before, but we have been given the gift of five senses of smell, sight, hearing, taste and touch and we don't use them as well as we could. They can be a great resource and are free. In fact we don't realise how precious they are, until they are not there anymore or less sensitive. People can miss so much by not using them at all or properly.

I also like to add two more necessary senses for a healthy life. A sense of humour and common sense.

Do we hear, but not listen? Eat, but not taste? Touch, but not feel.

©AlisonRRussell2015

Two ways of looking at life...Worst or best day?

The next blog will an extended article that appears in the York Press this week. It will be about the different ways people look at life, based on an incident that happened earlier this month.

Is a glass half-empty or half full? Whatever the subject, there will be opposite opinions. Sometimes we can wonder whether people experienced the same event at the same time, such are differing reports. This is particularly relevant to siblings and their upbringing.

The piece below was on Facebook recently. It is a clever piece of writing that reflects how the same words can be read in two ways, with very different meanings. It is attributed to Chanie Gorkin. It may be original, it's difficult to know exactly with material published on the Internet.

But whatever the origins of the piece, it is thought-provoking and I hadn't seen anything like it before.

Worst Day Ever by Chanie Gorkin

Today was the absolute worst day ever

And don't try to convince me that

There's something good in every day

Because, when you take a closer look

The world is a pretty evil place.

Even if

Some goodness does shine through once in a while

Satisfaction and happiness don't last.

And it's not true that

It's all in the mind and heart

Because

True happiness can be attained 

Only if one's surroundings are good

It's not true that good exists

I'm sure you can agree that

The reality

Creates

My attitude

It's all beyond my control

And you'll never in a million years hear me say

Today was a very good day.

Now read the passage again, but from the bottom to the top, the other way.

And see what I really feel about my day.

..........................................................................

AlisonRRussell2015

Granny says no to cold callers. Setting boundaries.

This is the *extended column, first published in the York Press on August 3rd, 2015.

http://www.yorkpress.co.uk/features/health/13575642.Granny_says_no_to_cold_callers/

Junk mail, spam email and cold calling telephone calls are in the news. Enough people must respond to these sales techniques to make it worth the investment  from companies and charities. The same can be said for the flyers that fall out of papers and magazines.  For the majority of us, the mails, flyers and calls are a waste of time and annoying. For a minority, they are damaging. Psychologically and financially.

I take care with any email about financial matters and would never write down bank details in an email.  For posted mail, I have a packet of cheap A4 size envelopes. I write ‘junk mail, remove from database’ all over the mail in red pen, put it in a large envelope and return it to the sender without a stamp. We rarely receive spam mail since I started to use this method of dealing with it. *I find this strangely satisfying. Like getting rid of rubbish at the dump.

There’s not much to be done with automated phone calls, but I try to be polite with real voices. The callers are doing a thankless job for income and are having to work with a script and targets.  Two weeks ago I had just returned home from looking after my five year old granddaughter. A sales call came through and the caller became persistent. I unexpectedly found myself saying, “ As I said to my granddaughter last week, when grannie says no, she means no!”. The caller laughed, but I repeated it firmly and said that I was going to put the phone down. Painless and amusing. Another call came through the next day and I repeated the same words. It worked and those words will now be used on all future cold callers.

I firmly stated boundaries and kept to what I said. It worked with my granddaughter too. 

What about our personal boundary setting? Can we say no to ourselves?  An anti-drugs campaign the 1980s centred around ‘Just say no!’ Simple? No, it isn’t. We don’t want to disappoint, be thought uncaring, start a row, lose a friend or go without. 

* At these times, we can be manipulated and need to watch out for ourselves. Saying yes to too much can leave us mentally and physically exhausted, but the person asking us doesn't really care, as they have their own reasons for their behaviour.

 But when my husband was seriously ill, it became easy to say no to all requests and nobody tried to dissuade me. Though in a highly stressful situation, I couldn’t say no to chocolate and red wine. I deserved it, didn’t I? That’s the other side of self-dialogue. A justifying voice, full of excuses, intrudes, trying to say yes, when we want to say no.

* People would rather blame anything and everybody if they have taken an action, which they then come to regret. But in not taking responsibility, we can lose control of a situation. As children, saying no to bedtime, green veg and sharing toys comes easily, but perhaps it one of the few childish behaviours we should learn to keep at times?

A celebrity of the moment is model and actress Cara Delevingne. She was quoted in a recent newspaper interview saying, “ I love saying no. Before I didn’t and it took a huge toll on my health and happiness.”  It sounds as if she is able to draw her own boundaries in a world full of temptations. I hope she succeeds in a challenging environment.

©AlisonRRussell2015

The payback from volunteering.

This is the July's Wellbeing column from the York Press:

http://www.yorkpress.co.uk/features/health/13375744.The_payback_you_get_from_volunteering/

In recent weeks, the York Press has featured articles on volunteering. Maxine Gordon wrote about opportunities in Pickering and Malton. York Cares was featured in the business pages.

I read a small item about York Hospital Trust asking for volunteers. I thought it was only the WRVS who had volunteers in hospitals, but not so. There are three hundred volunteers spread around YHT hospitals, doing a variety of work. Experiencing a personal ‘lightbulb’ moment, an application form was submitted.

This reminded me of a train journey in Spring 2011. I was returning to York from Gateshead, after attending an interview to be a London 2012 Games Maker.  The Games Makers initiative was not widely known at that stage and the couple sitting next to me were not aware of the volunteer army planned for London 2012. A goodie bag attracted their interest.

The man’s reaction was a surprise. It was one of incredulity. He was a business man in his forties and could not believe that there were people who were willing to work at London 2012, without being paid. He thought it was some sort of Government scam. I explained that having been impressed with the volunteers at the Sydney 2000 Olympics, I wanted to volunteer at London 2012 and didn’t mind what I did or where. 

As it turned out, my time was spent at Eton Dorney Rowing Lake, where I enjoyed four of the most extraordinary weeks of my life. By the end of London 2012, most people had heard of the Games Makers and were aware of our purple and pink uniform. People were asking to how to become one. Too late. 

After The Games, I thought about that man on the train and wondered if he remembered our conversation. Did he now understood the nature of volunteering?  Did he visit an event and see the Games Makers working? Though he wasn’t alone, there were many sceptical people. A GP told me that one his colleagues couldn’t understand why he wanted to work for no pay in his holidays. This was until the second week and then he’d been in touch. The penny had dropped.

My personal motivation is to give something back to the hospital that saved my husband’s life. While not having everything I want, I am fortunate to have everything I need and believe that most of us can help in the community in some way and not ask for a monetary reward.

There are numerous opportunities for volunteering, if you look for them.  Age is no limit. Working in historical houses, in gardens, the countryside, in transport, sport, cooking, sewing, reading, writing, helping people of all ages or working with animals. It’s limitless. Visit the library, read the local papers, look at cards in shop windows. This is a good place to start: 

http://www.volunteeringyork.org.uk

or like me,  http://www.yorkhospitals.nhs.uk/get_involved/volunteering/

“We make a living by what we get, but we make a life by what we give.” Winston Churchill

©AlisonRRussell2015

Two consecutive, contrasting days: Memories of 07/07/05

I’ve often wanted to write the memories down, but never have. It’s not only the 10th anniversary that has bought the memories to the forefront, but the events in Tunisia.

Two consecutive days. The juxtaposition of such joy and elation with such misery and despair. The holidaymakers in Tunisia may well feel the same. July 6th and 7th 2005. Was there ever such a time in the national consciousness, especially in London and the South-East, when there were two such consecutive days? It’s that contrast that I mostly remember.

Those two days I wasn’t in London or anywhere near. Adrian and I were looking after two grandsons from Belfast, aged 6 and 3. We were staying in a favourite holiday location. Self-catering on a farm in Dumfries and Galloway, just outside Kircudbright.

Tuesday, July 6th had seen us at the excellent visitor attraction, Cream O’Galloway. The announcement was due to be made about the Olympics 2012 and I was hoping for a London vote. Not only did I want to take the boys, but to be a volunteer too. I listened on the small radio I’d taken with me and heard the news when it was announced. I have film of the boys in the adventure playground and I’m saying that I’ve just heard the news that the vote came for London and that they would go to some of the events. (They did attend and I was a Games Maker.)

Back in the farmhouse, we watched scenes of joy from London on TV. Such happiness. 

Wednesday, July 7th and it was another beautiful day. A day for the beach. The tiny village of Rockcliffe provides a delightful beach, bay and tea shop. A little off the beaten track, so not over populated. It was a perfect bucket and spades day and with the Olympic news, it felt a ‘good to be alive day’. A happy day.  A perfect day. There was no mobile signal. We didn't put the car radio on.

We returned to the house about 5pm. There was a text message from my daughter.

“I have spoken to Grandpop and he says Joe is okay.”

What did that mean? Why wouldn’t my son, Joe, be okay? And why would Katie in Belfast be in contact with my father who lived in London? What had it got to do with them?

I immediately realised that there must have been an incident of some sort and that it would be national news.  They thought I would have heard the news, whatever it was. Perhaps around where Joe could have been? On his way from Hammersmith to the BBC. With trepidation, I immediately went into the sitting room and put on the TV. 

I wanted to watch everything, but it wasn’t fair on the two small boys, so had to wait until after their bedtime. The next day, I tried to watch minimal TV, but even then the six-year old said, “Are those people still sad?”. I turned the TV off.

Joe had been on an, maybe the, Edgware Road train, but, unusually, had got off at an earlier stop to pay a bill. I’ve met several people who were almost involved. Missed the train, in the third taxi behind the bus, had just turned the corner…

But the images and feelings that remain are of enjoying a perfect day of pure innocence in one part of the UK, while death and evil visited another.

24 hours after most of London was celebrating, the joyous mood and lives had been smashed to pieces. 

My thoughts return to Tunisia.

NB:

I wrote the above yesterday. Today, at 11.15am I was in a car and when I put on the radio, it was BBC 5 Live coming from St Paul's Cathedral. I stopped and listened to the rest of the service and the chat afterwards. I cried.

I felt so sad, but my memory matches to the emotions felt and subsequent thoughts were numerous.

1. I am proud to be a Londoner. The attack was on my city and its people. A wonderful, cosmopolitan city. 
2. I travel through Kings Cross and Edgware Road nearly every month. I know those streets and tube lines.
3. I am a news junkie and yet hearing so much from ten years ago, made me realise how much I missed by just not being aware of what was going on.
4. I walked through Tavistock Square last week. It was a sunny, hot afternoon. The small park was full of happy people and innocent children running through the fountains.
5. I had forgotten until last night, that five years ago today was my father's funeral, whose life was complex and intrusive into my own for over 60 years. 

But mainly and overwhelmingly, I feel almost haunted by that beautiful, happy, perfect day on the beach in Rockcliffe. I am grieving. Grieving for the loss of innocence and the loss of ten more years of life. 

But at least I've had a life in those ten years.

@AlisonRRussell2015

Keeping positive to maintain good mental health

This is the extended* column that was printed in the York Press on Monday, June 1st, 2015. Due to staffing reductions at the York Press, there is not a link to the the column...yet.


At the end of April we drove to the village of Muker, high up in the Yorkshire Dales. This is a favourite time of year, with ‘spring bustin’ out all over’, as the song says. We revelled in the scenery as we drove across from the coast. 

In Muker we enjoyed a delicious pub lunch, purchased a woollen jersey and rambled gently through the fields and over a beck. At one point we leant on a field gate, taking in the magnificent view of the hills and fields with new-born lambs. 

Breathing in the fresh air, we counted our blessings. We reflected on our decision to have no regrets about the health problems which nowadays restrict our walking activities, having explored the breathtaking Yorkshire landscape when we were more able. 

I said, “we must concentrate on what we can do, not what we can’t” I recalled being told about a local man, who, through illness couldn’t sail his single-handed boat anymore. He had been unable to come to terms with this change in his life and was only dwelling on what he couldn’t do anymore. As a result, he was sinking into depression.

Thirty minutes after leaning on the gate, we returned to the car. I twisted my back, pulled a muscle and was in acute pain. The previous time this had happened I’d been travelling on planes and trains and had to keep moving. This time, I was initially grateful for remaining still in a car driving home, but sitting for two hours was the worse thing I could have done.

Arriving home I could barely move and was in agony. Adrian said later, that it hadn’t been a good day. I remonstrated strongly. Until 3.30pm, the day had been perfect and that’s what we should remember. My back injury couldn’t change those idyllic moments or the memories of them.

Dosed up with painkillers and moving slowly, I despaired. It was Bank Holiday and I couldn’t see the chiropractor for several days. The garden needed attention, I couldn’t watch the Tour de Yorkshire pass locally and had to cancel a trip to London to see friends the following week.

From experience, I knew I had to keep moving, staying still for too long is not an option for bad backs. I remembered what I’d said at the field gate. I had a choice. I could either dwell about everything I couldn’t do and become downhearted or put my mind to what I could manage instead. 

So over the next few days, I did jobs that wouldn’t have been done at all. While I stayed standing, I completed tasks that were at eye level or higher. The wardrobe was de-cluttered, tatty and broken jewellery discarded, bookshelves sorted, kitchen cupboards tidied and cakes were baked. I felt a sense of achievement against the odds and the back slowly improved.

* Three weeks ago I was in London to look after my five-year old granddaughter all week, pre and post school, while the rest of the family were away. I was looking forward to enjoying my home city every day, visiting old favourites and taking in some new ones.

Two days before I went down, I received a text from my son, to tell me that Addie had chicken-pox. She was covered from the top of her head to in-between her toes. Though not unwell, school was out of the question and so was spending much time outside home.

Yet again, I was presented with a life event that meant I had to follow my own advice! 

“You can often change your circumstances by changing your attitude’ Eleanor Roosevelt