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.
Wednesday, 2 March 2011
A Different Day
A poem penned by a lovely client, after the first day of Lightning Process.
A Different Day
I woke and knew that this would be
A different kind of day
Hot tea, a kiss - a loving hug -
And I was bravely on my way
***
Through February lanes that once
Like ropes
Had bound me to the house,
Unfurling, now, like sunlit paths
To a Way of Life and Hope
***
And, on the back seat, Anxious Thoughts
Had joined me for the ride
Yet, as we sped to Devoran down Cornwall's wooded spine
Their petty, whining, fearful voices
Started to subside
***
My head was full of beauty
Muffling the sound
New vistas, towns and villages,
Suddenly, I found
New feelings in my limbs and mind
Blocking the rear view
New highways clearing in my head
Everything seemed new
***
Think calm thoughts, and you'll be calm
The beasts in your woods might well have gone
A hint that all might well be well
Has me driving West to lift the spell
***
I park the car
The Voices sleep
And two brave women I now meet,
Brave, because they share with me
Their gifts of freedom, hope and vulnerability
***
Today, I left my home
An anxious, moaning little mouse
And then a lady shone a light,
A bright illuminating thought:
I du my fear
I du my hurt
I du my tired and weary life
I du, I du, I du ...
I DON'T!
And what's more
I WON'T, I WON'T!
***
And, suddenly, a tiger strode
Along that shaft of proffered light
The Coach asked,
"Who, exactly, would you like to be?"
I smiled and knew,
"That Tiger's Me!"
Emma Staughton February 2011
Sunday, 20 February 2011
Well done! WELL DONE!!
This week I have had the experience of several people in different contexts telling me that I have done particular things rather well. And I must say that it felt very good. Very good indeed. At the time.
Later, I noticed a rather curious phenomenon. I was strangely reluctant to engage with the activities that had been deemed praise-worthy. What was going on? After sitting with this reluctance for a while to familiarise myself with it, I discovered that it was exactly the same phenomenon that my coffee shop friend had talked to me about a few weeks ago: Attachment.
When I become attached to the outcome of my efforts, and particularly when I rely on other people's judgements of my efforts, stress, misery and procrastination lie ahead; when I do things with full attention on the activity involved because I love it, want to do it, believe in it, I can take pleasure in the 'doing' of it. It's not that the outcomes are irrelevant; they are highly relevant, but noticing them and moving on from them feels so much better than trying to hold on to them, striving to achieve them, and failing to engage with the journey that got me there in the first place.
So.....to praise or not to praise? There is a large body of research documenting the effects of praise on children. In short, praising the effort taken appears to have a motivational effect; praising the outcome is less effective. If you hear me saying, 'Oh, good effort!' this week...you'll know why.
Sunday, 13 February 2011
Valentine's Day 2007: the turning point.....
Valentine's Day 2007.
I had been bed-ridden for several months, unable to feed myself or move. For the past few weeks I had been experimenting with completely switching off any mental thought process, and allowing my body to totally relax. I started doing this for 30mins 4 times a day and as I seemed better in this state than out of it, I increased it....and spent 5 or 6 hours a day in this state of suspended animation. During this time my partner found out about Lightning Process, and I knew that it was possible for people to recover from ME. I made a very strong decision that when I began to move and function again it would be as a well person.
My partner came home early on Valentine's Day, especially to make afternoon tea for me. I wanted to do something special for him, but my options seemed extremely limited. So I decided that I would begin to experiment with teaching myself how to be a well person....and surprise him. Without telling him, I practised sitting up by myself in bed, and getting out of bed, and standing for a few seconds. Before I moved a muscle, I imagined how it would feel to sit up, and get up and stand as a well person. I imagined how healthy muscles would feel as they moved, what my posture would be like as a well person. I imagined it, then I did it.
Whilst my partner was making tea downstairs, I imagined not only getting out of bed, but also walking out of my bedroom to the stairlift, and sitting on it. Every time, I imagined what it would feel like to do it with a healthy body. Then, reminding myself of my commitment to do everything as a well person, or not at all, I got up and walked out of my bedroom to the stairlift. I paused, then pressed the buzzer. My partner heard the noise, and appeared with a considerable degree of alarm! I told him that I was coming downstairs - the first time in many months - and that we would have tea together in the lounge.
When the stairlift arrived in the hall, I paused again. My partner brought the wheelchair, and I told him that I wouldn't be using it. The walk to the bay window in the lounge was further than I had walked in a very long time. I set off, and started doing wobble and weak legs. I immediately returned to the stairlift, sat down, and began calmly going over in my mind how it would feel to make this walk as a well person. Then, reminding myself once more that I was going to walk as a well person, I walked confidently into the lounge.
I can't tell you how delicious that tea tasted! And what a pleasure it was to be sitting and sharing Valentine's Day with my partner, like a normal person. This was the turning point; we both knew that after 9 years of illness I would, in time, be able to get completely well again.
Valentine's Day is a special day for us.....
I had been bed-ridden for several months, unable to feed myself or move. For the past few weeks I had been experimenting with completely switching off any mental thought process, and allowing my body to totally relax. I started doing this for 30mins 4 times a day and as I seemed better in this state than out of it, I increased it....and spent 5 or 6 hours a day in this state of suspended animation. During this time my partner found out about Lightning Process, and I knew that it was possible for people to recover from ME. I made a very strong decision that when I began to move and function again it would be as a well person.
My partner came home early on Valentine's Day, especially to make afternoon tea for me. I wanted to do something special for him, but my options seemed extremely limited. So I decided that I would begin to experiment with teaching myself how to be a well person....and surprise him. Without telling him, I practised sitting up by myself in bed, and getting out of bed, and standing for a few seconds. Before I moved a muscle, I imagined how it would feel to sit up, and get up and stand as a well person. I imagined how healthy muscles would feel as they moved, what my posture would be like as a well person. I imagined it, then I did it.
Whilst my partner was making tea downstairs, I imagined not only getting out of bed, but also walking out of my bedroom to the stairlift, and sitting on it. Every time, I imagined what it would feel like to do it with a healthy body. Then, reminding myself of my commitment to do everything as a well person, or not at all, I got up and walked out of my bedroom to the stairlift. I paused, then pressed the buzzer. My partner heard the noise, and appeared with a considerable degree of alarm! I told him that I was coming downstairs - the first time in many months - and that we would have tea together in the lounge.
When the stairlift arrived in the hall, I paused again. My partner brought the wheelchair, and I told him that I wouldn't be using it. The walk to the bay window in the lounge was further than I had walked in a very long time. I set off, and started doing wobble and weak legs. I immediately returned to the stairlift, sat down, and began calmly going over in my mind how it would feel to make this walk as a well person. Then, reminding myself once more that I was going to walk as a well person, I walked confidently into the lounge.
I can't tell you how delicious that tea tasted! And what a pleasure it was to be sitting and sharing Valentine's Day with my partner, like a normal person. This was the turning point; we both knew that after 9 years of illness I would, in time, be able to get completely well again.
Valentine's Day is a special day for us.....
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