I was very lucky to be given a free concert ticket last week. I've been to concerts at the Hall for Cornwall many times since my recovery; this one was particularly interesting for two reasons.
First, the free ticket was for a prime position: five rows from the front, and dead centre. It's the row which you can walk infront of....and the row where wheelchair-users are given places, as the seats can be easily removed. There was a gap just beside me, and an elderly lady in a wheelchair, pushed by an elderly man arrived and took up position. I was aware of the man wheeling her into place, putting on the brakes, lifting her up so her position was more comfortable etc. It felt strange to be watching it from the perspective of onlooker; a few years ago I would have been the wheelchair participant....equally kindly being manoevered and arranged into my place by my partner.
Secondly, on my other side was another elderly lady. She seemed quite popular; lots of people came up to her, pleased - and surprised - to see her. Apparently she'd had a knee operation recently. What fascinated me was the way in which she talked about her recent op and ongoing recovery. She briefly mentioned discomfort and very quickly moved on to talk about how delighted she was to be at the concert, and how every day it was getting better. She was an expert at filtering for useful information, and minimsing less useful information. She compeletely stepped into all the positives and neatly avoided stepping into anything less positive. If I was the sort of person who made predictions, I would predict she would make a speedy recovery!
Friday 22 April 2011
Saturday 16 April 2011
Matilda's Story
Matilda is a 10yr old girl I worked with nearly a year ago. It was a delight to see her shake off Chronic Fatigue and come to life. I spoke to her once after she completed Lightning Process, and hadn't heard from her since then. I thought about her from time to time and wondered what she was up to. Last week I received this e-mail from her mother, who is happy for me to share it with you.
"Matilda is doing so brilliantly, we are all really impressed and very happy. Here are some of her achievements since the LP course:
"Matilda is doing so brilliantly, we are all really impressed and very happy. Here are some of her achievements since the LP course:
- Last week she completed a 7.5 mile sponsored walk for Comic Relief (we did actually train to run this cross country course but the teachers changed their mind about letting them run the day before).
- Matilda has completed her first half term with 100% attendance at school. Last term she only had two days off!
- At her new school they have 8 hours of PE and swimming a week and she has become incredibly fit. She has represented the school at Netball.
- She has taken up ballet again.
- Matilda has taken her grade 1 in piano.
- We have just dropped the use of all her Asthma inhalers as the sympotms have gradually disappeared over the last year.
The results have been fantastic and Matilda's life and ours has been transformed. She is very happy and I would strongly recommend Julia's LP course to anyone with ME; in fact I have already."
Great work from Matilda...and all her family!
Wednesday 13 April 2011
Flying High
I was sitting in the departure lounge of Newquay airport last Monday at 3.30pm, working on my laptop and waiting to board the 4pm flight to Glasgow. Over the tannoy came a message for all travellers (12 of us!) for Glasgow to go to Gate 4. Encouraging. I packed up my laptop and obediently proceeded to Gate 4. When we were all present and correct, we were told that the plane had broken.....and they could neither fix it nor find another one. So there wouldn't be another flight to Glasgow until tomorrow afternoon. And please could we follow them to collect our luggage.
There followed a few seconds of 'Aaaaaargh!' Well - ok - it might have been nearer a minute! I was due in Perth at 9am the following morning to begin a 3 day Lightning Process course at 9.30am. After indulging in a few seconds of 'disaster movie', I paused and made a choice. I could indeed keep going with my wonderful movie, with all its accompanying physiological whoosh of stress hormones.....or I could decide to be calm and work out what was the best response. I chose to take 5 minutes to think calmly and make rational choices.....so much easier without stress hormones tilting me towards reactive behaviour.
At the end of 5 minutes I was able to see the situation quite differently. First of all, I was so grateful to all the technicians involved in looking after the planes for spotting that this one was broken; so much better for all of us to have discovered this BEFORE we took off. I was thankful that, unusually, my partner had decided to come on this trip too - I was not alone. We rang our son, who, having dropped us at the airport not long ago, now kindly returned to ferry us home again. More thanks. Our daughter made us a cracking packed tea whilst we were returning home, which gave us sustenance and joy as we drove up to Scotland. Thank you.
There were more choices to make as we drove up North. I could be cross, frustrated, angry, worried etc etc Or I could choose to look ahead and start preparing for the following day. How did I want to feel when I arrived? Exhausted or refreshed? Stressed or relaxed? Obvious, really, but it involved making a choice to see myself as refreshed and relaxed.
So often we buy into the idea that we don't have a choice, that 'things' happen to us and that our responses are inevitable. It's simply not true. There is always a choice to make. And the choices we make alter the experience we have.
There followed a few seconds of 'Aaaaaargh!' Well - ok - it might have been nearer a minute! I was due in Perth at 9am the following morning to begin a 3 day Lightning Process course at 9.30am. After indulging in a few seconds of 'disaster movie', I paused and made a choice. I could indeed keep going with my wonderful movie, with all its accompanying physiological whoosh of stress hormones.....or I could decide to be calm and work out what was the best response. I chose to take 5 minutes to think calmly and make rational choices.....so much easier without stress hormones tilting me towards reactive behaviour.
At the end of 5 minutes I was able to see the situation quite differently. First of all, I was so grateful to all the technicians involved in looking after the planes for spotting that this one was broken; so much better for all of us to have discovered this BEFORE we took off. I was thankful that, unusually, my partner had decided to come on this trip too - I was not alone. We rang our son, who, having dropped us at the airport not long ago, now kindly returned to ferry us home again. More thanks. Our daughter made us a cracking packed tea whilst we were returning home, which gave us sustenance and joy as we drove up to Scotland. Thank you.
There were more choices to make as we drove up North. I could be cross, frustrated, angry, worried etc etc Or I could choose to look ahead and start preparing for the following day. How did I want to feel when I arrived? Exhausted or refreshed? Stressed or relaxed? Obvious, really, but it involved making a choice to see myself as refreshed and relaxed.
So often we buy into the idea that we don't have a choice, that 'things' happen to us and that our responses are inevitable. It's simply not true. There is always a choice to make. And the choices we make alter the experience we have.
Monday 4 April 2011
Life's Engine Houses
Saturday was one of those sublime Spring days in Cornwall: sunshine, blue skies, turquoise sea, breeze and birds delighting in their freedom. I headed out to Chapel Porth, my favourite cove, and began walking around the coastal path to St Agnes Head.
The first section of the path takes you upwards from the cove fairly rapidly, then the path becomes gentler. The sound and sight of the waves crashing onto the shore was mesmerising. As I walked I noticed that there was an old Engine House coming into my sightline up ahead; these ancient and often ruined buildings are littered along the Cornish coastline. I continued to climb and the once distant Engine House drew closer and closer. I watched as it grew in size....and before long, I was standing beside it, small, as it towered above me. I drew breath, then moved on, this time sighting the headland. When I reached the headland I turned back to see the Engine House so recently huge, now a small memory on the path.
It got me thinking about landmarks, and how we see things in the future. Sometimes they loom, growing ever bigger in our vision...and then, often all too quickly, we pass them, move on and their size changes. Perspective is everything. The Engine House remains the same size it ever was...but my perception of its size and my relation to it, changes with every step.
It seems to me that this is similar to the landmarks of my own life. I can look back at places, people, events and achievements of the past, which, when experienced, were huge...and yet now, with the perspective of distance, are small. And yet, like the tall chimney of the Engine House, these things remain as landmarks on my life; things by which I can plot my journey. And as I look ahead to the future, I can see all sorts of interesting landmarks that are just coming into view. Head down. Deep breath. Keep breathing. Like those in the past, these too will come, will be awesome....and go.
The first section of the path takes you upwards from the cove fairly rapidly, then the path becomes gentler. The sound and sight of the waves crashing onto the shore was mesmerising. As I walked I noticed that there was an old Engine House coming into my sightline up ahead; these ancient and often ruined buildings are littered along the Cornish coastline. I continued to climb and the once distant Engine House drew closer and closer. I watched as it grew in size....and before long, I was standing beside it, small, as it towered above me. I drew breath, then moved on, this time sighting the headland. When I reached the headland I turned back to see the Engine House so recently huge, now a small memory on the path.
It got me thinking about landmarks, and how we see things in the future. Sometimes they loom, growing ever bigger in our vision...and then, often all too quickly, we pass them, move on and their size changes. Perspective is everything. The Engine House remains the same size it ever was...but my perception of its size and my relation to it, changes with every step.
It seems to me that this is similar to the landmarks of my own life. I can look back at places, people, events and achievements of the past, which, when experienced, were huge...and yet now, with the perspective of distance, are small. And yet, like the tall chimney of the Engine House, these things remain as landmarks on my life; things by which I can plot my journey. And as I look ahead to the future, I can see all sorts of interesting landmarks that are just coming into view. Head down. Deep breath. Keep breathing. Like those in the past, these too will come, will be awesome....and go.
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