Tag Archives: Overcoming anxiety

The Love Affair of the Grid

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Love is a beautiful thing.  However, it can also be addictive and toxic.  Therefore, the question is: what turns something great into something terrible? 

Whilst everyone is talking about phone detox, I’m well in my depths of intoxicated addiction.  In a quiet moment I can be found listing, journaling and creating files in my notes; texting friends about the things that make me smile; communicating with the serious stuff; Googling what takes my fancy; and scrolling through instagram.      Instagram – some could say – is a devils playground.  A toxic breeding ground of poor mental health and body dysmorphia.  And this I understand.  But before I get into the pitfalls of the Gram, want to talk about my fascination with the grid.  

Instagram: a rabbit hole of people, products and social politics.  A place to lose myself in the ridiculous and beautiful.  A soundtrack for the fast moving world we live in.  A place which is regularly criticised and seen as an example of our decline in society.  But for me? I love it.

It’s probably over ten years since I’ve been able to comfortably read a magazine.  Once an addict to the glossies, I used to devour J17 and More as a teenager, moving onto Red , Cosmo and Vogue as a functioning adult.  I loved the glamour, the writing, I loved the aspirational style.  With a copy of Heat thrown in here and there, I kept myself well abreast of the celebrity gossip machine.   But, along with my ability to go out at night unaided, I had my voracious ability to devour print capped.  

The Kindle solved many of my issues.  But as gleeful as I was that I was able to read properly again, I was starved of celebrity.  

I entered a grey hinterland of tumbleweed and an empty east wind.  I got my info via the television and radio.  Whole movements, trends and shenanigans passing me by.  What was I to do?  Facebook was boring.  Twitter was toxic.  But, Instagram was gloriously glossy and so far removed from the mundanity of life, that I was hooked.  

And so my journey began.  

But, like all love stories, there are always obstacles which threaten to spoil a good thing.  In this case: trolls.  

Recently, I was scrolling and came across a beautiful picture of two women.  Now, my eyes aren’t the best, but the thing that sang to me was the utter joy on their faces.  Closer inspection and a helpful caption told me that they were Julia Roberts and her niece, in e what appeared to be a card game after a family sleepover.  Happy family time.  I loved the positive energy emanating from the image.  However, it wasn’t her sharing it.  The post was by a DJ who said he felt ‘compelled’ to share Julia’s raw honesty.  What is afoot, I thought?

It turned out not everyone is a cheerleader.  I’m not sure why I’m surprised.  After sharing this personal moment she was messaged by many people telling her ‘how terrible I looked’. That ‘I’m not ageing well’ and that she was unrecognisable.

I mean.  Wow!

After some thought about this, I had two trains of thought: one, is that really what people see? And two, what type of person feels they can actively comment on another’s looks?

All I’m going to say is that it says WAY more about them than the beautiful Julia Roberts.  

Ageing, I mean, this is a whole other ramblings in the making.  So, instead I’m going to focus on why people like to deflect their own insecurities and channel them into negativity towards others.  And why they think it’s acceptable to share their toxicity on social media.

Scanning the grid it is incredibly, and sadly, too easy to find awful comments about others.  To read such negativity about young, successful women like Taylor Swift, Miley Cyrus and Selena Gomez – well, it seems they can’t do anything right.  Then there’s the seasoned performers: JLo, SJP and Madonna.  All torn apart with a caustic vitriol of some keyboard warriors.  Hhhmmmm…

What makes them do it?  For want of not giving their words any page space, I think it’s worth noting that it’s symptomatic of poor mental health and insecurity.  In a BBC article it was reported that ‘Dr Mark Griffiths, Professor of Behavioural Addiction at Nottingham Trent University said: “Most people troll others for either revenge, for attention seeking, for boredom, and for personal amusement.”  He then goes in to say that it is a way for people who are unhappy to lash out and get rid of their frustrations.  Does this mean that trolls can be embittered ageing women who can’t afford a decent face cream; young people who can’t get recording deals and a celebrity partner; or, angry individuals who have failed to reach their potential?

In which case, maybe we should be extending sympathy to this group of aggressive typists.  

In the early days I used to find the escapism of instagram a luxury.  Scrolling through a myriad of holiday destinations, celebrity lives and stylish clothes and interiors, I enjoyed it.  And, I still do.  But I guess that looking at such aspirational eye candy can trigger jealousy.  After all, if somebody feels frustrated by their own trappings, trolling must be a way of releasing the pressure.  

What to do?

Personally, well, like a good face filter, I erase what I don’t want to see.  I make my own judgements, fill my feed with hilarity, and ignore the haters.  It’s what I do in life.  My advice always to never walk into a room that cloaks you in negativity.  I avoid these situations like the plague.  And do I feel jealous of the Beckhams jetting around the world and influencers on a permanent holiday? Not really.  They’re just people living their best lives.  They’ve worked hard and luck has gone their way.  Envy? Well who wouldn’t want to spend January on a deserted beach in Thailand?  But does it cause me to write nasty comments  – no! 

All it makes me do is dream…

So when you’re scrolling, try with the empathy.  For who you follow and the followers.  After all, we are all waking through something everybody knows nothing about.   Spread the love and be kind,  

https://www.bbc.co.uk/bitesize/articles/zfmkrj6#

I am Grateful for…

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 January is probably the longest month of the year.  Dark, cold, self-punishing and penniless, we tend to spend it dreaming and wishing time could speed up.  For early signs of spring, a warmer sun and lighter days.  And, as much as we know we shouldn’t rush our time away, we dream of better days.

However, I was determined to do things differently this year.  To focus on what I could change and achieve in this winter hinterland.  So, stubbornly, I’ve dug my heels in and used my creativity to expand my horizons and explore what makes me tick.  

For months now, I’ve been keeping a gratitude journal.  A monthly log of all those glimmers which give me life.  A collection of thought, feelings and moments.  A list of my hopes and dreams.  But, I get busy and sometimes I forget…

But, January has been different.  

Determined to keep strong in the darkness, I set myself targets.  Targets to help me remember and push the status quo of January blues.

I was recently introduced to the Hebrew word ‘davka’, whilst listening to one of my favourite podcasts ‘Stirring it up’ with Andi and Miquita Oliver.  I love listening to them as it’s about two of my favourite things – food, and people.  They have a plethora of interesting guests with a wealth of worldly knowledge.  Their guests often make me stop and think, so when Rob Rinder talked about davka, it made me think about applying it to my own life.  

But what is it?

Davka is about being contrary.  Which, at first would seem an awkward way to make a positive impact on your own life.  However, it’s more than that.  Essentially, it’s about writing your own journey.  Not following the one that’s been preordained.  Pushing boundaries, ripping up the rule book and doing your own thing.  To have davka is brave and exciting.  To have employed davka – you’ve done something against the odds.

I loved the way he talked about holocaust survivors.  The way they survived against the cruel odds that had been dictated to them.  The way that they were so grateful and present as they rebuilt their lives.  Contrary, brave, stubborn, living a life worth living. 

And that got me thinking about adversity and how we can all apply it to our lives.  How it is essentially about kicking back and overcoming prejudice and negativity.  

I am all over davka!

So, where have I used davka so far this year?  Well, to be honest I’ve struggled with the short days, cold and dark.  However, I’ve tried to reframe my thinking and push back against the blues.  Pushed back and ignored the hype around the negative energy January breeds.  I’ve rewritten my days by focusing on all the things I’m grateful for (and let me tell you some days I had to do some really creative thinking).  I’ve purged myself with manifestation goals, to the point of becoming incredibly specific about certain situations (when I go to Australia I’m going to rent a beach house in Manley Bay for six weeks…), and at the end of every positive monologue, I thank the universe for giving me strength, peace and love.

Namaste.

And guess what?  Something wonderful began to happen.  By being contrary and refusing to bow down to the grey January fog, I’ve kicked back and rewritten my days.  I’ve found that being grateful has allowed me to rewrite my path and this makes me feel good about my future.  

And, with February peeking at us from around the corner, and my first glimpse of snowdrops this weekend, I’m gearing up for what comes next.  I’ll continue to be grateful; continue to focus on my goals; I’ll continue to thank the world I live in.  I’m going to apply davka to my big journey and achieve the impossible…

Well, I can at least try.  As my reader, should you.  

Namaste 🙏 

I Know I’m No Good

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Once upon a time, a young woman was sitting in a meeting room.  It was her first week in the job.  The discussion around her was completely unrelated to anything she had done before.  She felt out of her depth.  She felt overwhelmed.  She was ready to bolt. Luckily, she didn’t.  

That was then.  This is now.  

Now – she runs the meetings.  

But, she still thinks she’s not good enough; full of self-doubt.  Full of anxiety.  Full of paranoia.

A familiar story?

The other day a woman was talking about all the reasons she might get the sack.  Mistakes she’s made; times she felt she could have been better; times she felt like she hadn’t measured up.  At no time did she realise and say ‘I’m good at my job because I care’. At no time did she think ‘it’s because I care that I’m still in this job’

Instead, she measured herself against self destroying goals and expectations.  

Nobody had told her she wasn’t any good.  Nobody had told her she sucked.

It was her.  All on her.

How many of you can relate?

Imposter syndrome plagues , according to research, 82% of the population.  And although my two stories focus on women, men are just as likely to suffer with this self-sabotaging issue.  

Why do we do it to ourselves?  

The sad thing is that this 82% contains a high percentage of people who have ultimately worked extremely hard to gain success, only to decide that they don’t deserve it.  Instead, they spend hours punishing themselves for all their failings.  Framing their perceptions through a negative lens and second  guessing what others think.  When, in fact, most people don’t give it a second thought.  And those that do?  Well, I think it’s a case of asking ‘do they matter?’

Ultimately, it’s about being kinder and stepping outside of ourselves.  People are flailing and we live in a naturally judgmental world.  And as difficult as it is, we need to be kinder to ourselves so we can be kinder to others.  

How do we spot it?  

In a recent article I read by Gina Balarin, entitled ‘Imposter Syndrome: The Struggle Is Real – But You Can Beat It?’  She quotes Clare Josa who says ‘There are four P indicators of imposter syndrome – perfectionism, paralysis, people-pleasing, and procrastination.’

Instantly, I could relate to all of the above.  I could also relate it to many of the people within my life.  The micro-managers who obsess over every detail; people who become unable to articulate themselves under pressure; those who go above and beyond tying themselves up in knots to please others; those who hide and avoid the big picture.  

All of the above have been me at one time or another.  I’d argue that you can also relate.  However, none of the above mean we are failing, they are what make us human.  

Historically, there has been a stigma attached to showing weakness at work.  We were trained to be resilient, loyal and selfless.  To be successful meant sacrifice with blood sweat and tears (think sackcloth and ashes).  Although, most of us are realising that this kind of thinking is a legacy of the past.  For years it was drilled into us to: work, work, work.  That to think about yourself was selfish and showed weakness.  

Self care?  We should all be doing it in spades.  

It’s now 2024 and we’ve seen and been through a global pandemic which changed our world.  We began to evaluate and value our lives; looking at what living meant through a different perspective.  People changed, people grew.  We’ve also lived through the BeKind movement where we learned to articulate ‘it’s okay to not be okay.’  And finally, there’s never been a more visible time for movement for equality within minorities within our society.  So why do we keep punishing ourselves?

Think back to those two women.  Think back to those four Ps.  Think how you could spot the signs: feel the self doubt oozing from their every pore and think about what you could do.  How could you be kind?  How could have I been kind?

Me?  I’m trying.  By actively thinking about it, I feel I might be able to help at least one person.  To hold their hand; thank them; give them a smile.  Not forced or false, just softening the edges of their day.  

82% of people are going through something.  Surely, if we all work together we can smash the sadness.  

For more information here is one of the articles I read:  

Imposter Syndrome: The Struggle Is Real – But You Can Beat It

Imposter Syndrome: The Struggle Is Real – But You Can Beat It

A Winter Solstice

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I always look forward to winter solstice.  It marks the beginning of the encroaching darkness receding.  It means that lighter and longer days are on the horizon.  And although it heralds the beginning of winter, it is the precursor for the beginnings of new life.  My yoga teacher recently told me that it’s about being reborn.  that instead of the reflective aspect to our practice, that we are now moving into an active time.  

Possibilities are on the horizon…

But, as I begin to focus on my intentions for 2024, there is a pesky blot on the beautiful, but stark winter landscape:

Hello anxiety, my old friend.  My nemesis; my unwanted companion; my hated dread.

For years it was my constant.  Always there, buzzing around dull and desperately in the background.  The constant fear and butterflies omnipresent.  

You see, there was a time I thought I’d cracked it.  I did, for want of a better phrase ‘done a great deal of work on myself’.  Self-help; psychoanalyst; mentoring; the drugs and such like.  I embraced it all.

Well, you do when you’re rock bottom don’t you?

Anyway, I did it all.  I wanted out of The Fear.  I wanted to escape its darkness and find light.  And, because I learned and realised that I was worth it and that I owed it to myself, rather than feeling selfish for the self-indulgence, I did the work.  And in doing so, I had found some semblance of peace.  But, like everything we don’t want reminding of, it has a way of sneaking up on you (the psychologist might have plenty to say about this but I have my own view).

As I have previously mentioned and you might have inferred from previous blogs – I am A LOT.  High maintenance if you will.  What with that annoying matter of losing my sight and having a terrible immune system, well, I come with lots of unwanted issues and a disclaimer on my bio.  Each day is a carefully orchestrated affair.  I’m terrible with surprises and live in perfect order.  I mean, don’t ever move anything or put things in the wrong place.  You see, do, and I’ll hunt you down and kill you.  This means I spend a great deal of my life within a small circle of trusted people and strict guidelines for how I live.  All part of the work I did.  The therapy.  

It means I function.  It means I live a life richer than I did.  

‘But the anxiety?’ You ask ‘Why now?’

Well, let me tell you.  

A while back I decided I needed to be braver.  Man up, as I say.  I needed to stop flopping about like a red cracker fish and develop a backbone.  You see, although I’d spent eons on all the positives and busting The Fear, I’d failed to develop balls.  I felt that minimising my life would suffice – like if I shut my eyes and curl into a ball nobody would be able to see me.

2023 has been the year of the brave.

Being brave has been both exhilarating and petrifying in equal measure.  I’ve been to places and had experiences I don’t think I’d ever have dared to 18 months ago.  I’ve navigated strange places and stepped out into a crazy busy world.  And, I’ve survived.  

But all with support and love.

The next phase has been independence.  And that’s been scary.  I’ve been places, faced challenges and agreed to things in the past month that I would have scoffed at 6 months ago.  Going places without a safety net?  Fighting the ever dread of being judged because I have a disability.  The embarrassment of me being me vibrating in the periphery.  No wonder my senses have been on red alert.  

Does being brave mean I lean into the anxiety?  

I think it does.  I think that by leaning in I’m embracing it.  Facing up to it.  By facing up to it I’m admitting to myself that it’s okay to not feel okay.  Because, I know that the moment will pass.  

So, with the passing of Winter Solstice and the beginning of a new year, the page is blank for me to write it.  A new era.  An even braver new world.  A flawed world which is fabulously imperfect like me.  And whilst January might feel empty and dark after all the hoopla of Christmas; the days will become longer; the spring will become nearer; our lives will become richer for striving to be brand new, our best selves, brave.  

Namaste 🙏 

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There’s an old 1970s hostess trolley been left abandoned, outside of a house, at the end of my road.  Every day I have watched this long-lost icon deteriorate, sadly sitting and waiting to be pillaged.  Only no one wants it.  it’s still there: a constant on the daily dog trek.  

This piece of beach walk detritus, is the only constant in my daily folly onto the wild North Sea coast.  Where, and quite simply wonderfully, the landscape can metamorphosise into something so incredibly different every day.  A rolling palette which stretches from the steeliest grey to a mirror of brilliance; a myriad of blues to soothe the soul, and the shoreline showing the spoils of Davy Jones’ locker.  A distinct picture of life and death.  A daily reminder which boosts the mind and energises the soul.  Nothing is constant.  Nothing lasts forever.

But I’m digressing and becoming distracted and ahead of myself.  

So…back to the lonely trolley.  Once, this 1970s piece of sophistication, was the only way to dinner party.  Keeping the  Boeuf Bourguignon warm and gently killing any vegetables in its brown plastic prison, was only to be found in the most affluent of households.  Proudly standing at the side of the room,  you weren’t successful if you hadn’t bought into this stylish trend of the ‘modern household’.  Dinner party sophisticates would produce: A prawn cocktail to start; a congealed mess from within the trolley for main;l.  Followed by an arctic roll from the freezer…

For the first time ever, women were able to have it all!  Working all day and entertaining their husband’s clients in an evening.  The Hostess Trolley had arrived!

But that wasn’t all.  Trending alongside it there would be a fondue set powered by cheese and wine.  Fuelling up the later entertainment of swapping partners with keys in a bowl (If they weren’t already attending a tarts and vicars party) and spinning everything around on a Lazy Susan.  

Fast forward and we all think: What were they doing? From the sexual revolutionaries of the sixties we got nothing but crap food and inappropriate party games thereafter.  A Benny Hill interlude that benefitted the perverts in society (now to be found cat fishing on Tinder etc. And hiding behind a screen and not a moustache).  Thankfully, these ridiculous 1970s follies were just, like most silly ideas, all just a trend.  Unfortunately though, making feminism and the sexual revolution something we continued to fight for, and still do, forty plus years later.  Yet again m wandering off topic…

I like a trend as much as anyone.  They keep things moving, interesting and stop us growing a film of dust on our lives.  A trend is:

Trend

Noun

A fashion

Therefore, we follow it in a fickle way.  Picking and choosing and chucking out last season’s cast offs without a moments hesitation (The fact that the landfill gets higher and that there are refugees running around in ‘Gina’s Hen  t-shirt,  is testimony to our throwaway society).   And along with the clothing trends, we follow others.  We follow in a herd mentality to a certain restaurant; engage in a new film hype; or download some new app to fill our free time.  But sometimes, what is heralded as a new trend can sometimes evolve into something interesting – life changing.  It becomes a turning point:

Turning Point

There’s an old 1970s hostess trolley been left abandoned, outside of a house, at the end of my road.  Every day I have watched this long-lost icon deteriorate, sadly sitting and waiting to be pillaged.  Only no one wants it.  it’s still there: a constant on the daily dog trek.  

This piece of beach walk detritus, is the only constant in my daily folly onto the wild North Sea coast.  Where, and quite simply wonderfully, the landscape can metamorphosise into something so incredibly different every day.  A rolling palette which stretches from the steeliest grey to a mirror of brilliance; a myriad of blues to soothe the soul, and the shoreline showing the spoils of Davy Jones’ locker.  A distinct picture of life and death.  A daily reminder which boosts the mind and energises the soul.  Nothing is constant.  Nothing lasts forever.

But I’m digressing and becoming distracted and ahead of myself.  

So…back to the lonely trolley.  Once, this 1970s piece of sophistication, was the only way to dinner party.  Keeping the  Boeuf Bourguignon warm and gently killing any vegetables in its brown plastic prison, was only to be found in the most affluent of households.  Proudly standing at the side of the room,  you weren’t successful if you hadn’t bought into this stylish trend of the ‘modern household’.  Dinner party sophisticates would produce: A prawn cocktail to start; a congealed mess from within the trolley for main;l.  Followed by an arctic roll from the freezer…

For the first time ever, women were able to have it all!  Working all day and entertaining their husband’s clients in an evening.  The Hostess Trolley had arrived!

But that wasn’t all.  Trending alongside it there would be a fondue set powered by cheese and wine.  Fuelling up the later entertainment of swapping partners with keys in a bowl (If they weren’t already attending a tarts and vicars party) and spinning everything around on a Lazy Susan.  

Fast forward and we all think: What were they doing? From the sexual revolutionaries of the sixties we got nothing but crap food and inappropriate party games thereafter.  A Benny Hill interlude that benefitted the perverts in society (now to be found cat fishing on Tinder etc. And hiding behind a screen and not a moustache).  Thankfully, these ridiculous 1970s follies were just, like most silly ideas, all just a trend.  Unfortunately though, making feminism and the sexual revolution something we continued to fight for, and still do, forty plus years later.  Yet again m wandering off topic…

I like a trend as much as anyone.  They keep things moving, interesting and stop us growing a film of dust on our lives.  A trend is:

Trend

Noun

A fashion

Therefore, we follow it in a fickle way.  Picking and choosing and chucking out last season’s cast offs without a moments hesitation (The fact that the landfill gets higher and that there are refugees running around in ‘Gina’s Hen  t-shirt,  is testimony to our throwaway society).   And along with the clothing trends, we follow others.  We follow in a herd mentality to a certain restaurant; engage in a new film hype; or download some new app to fill our free time.  But sometimes, what is heralded as a new trend can sometimes evolve into something interesting – life changing.  It becomes a turning point:

Turning Point

Noun

A time at which a decisive change in a situation occurs, especially one with beneficial results

Beneficial.  That word is not used enough.  For the first of many years of my life, I ran at 100mph, to juggle all the balls and to work towards ‘winning at life’.  Winning, to me, and many others, was being successful in all matters of materialism.  To have your own home.  To have a happy and healthy family which you could provide for.  To have a successful career.  To have all the trappings…it’s not greed, it’s just human nature.  We want the diet which is fed to us through the media.  We strive for bigger and better.  We just don’t want to be left behind.  

But was any of it beneficial?

Well…house, family, job are always important.  They are our bedrock.  But how do we measure success and is it beneficial to us?  I don’t think it is.  Although having a regular wage helps me sleep at night, it’s never been what’s motivated me to get out of bed in the morning.  If it did, I’d be very worried about my emotional well-being.  Instead, I push myself out of my really comfortable bed (which I craved for in my early twenties) and think about the positives for the day.  I think about my family, my students, and just recently, I think about myself.  Is that selfish? 

Well no!  It’s called self-care.  

Self care is the new buzz word.  A trend which has sprung from the need for highlighting the importance of mental health awareness.  Everywhere I look: emails, magazines, Instagram…everyone wants me to be mindful of my self-care.  And I am!  Guess what?  I’ve needed no persuading.  

You see, once upon a time my plate was very full.  There were times that I never thought I’d get to where I am without killing someone or robbing a bank (but I don’t want to go into that).  All I need to say is that until you are forced to really think, you have no idea what is good for you.  Instead, what I have learnt is that self-care is not selfish, and should be everyone’s priority.

Learning about loving ourself s and our own Self-care, should be a turning point.  Looking at what makes us tick is important.  Isn’t life too short?  It soothes us.  Keeps us calm and happy.  There’s a lot to be said for contentment – I personally think it’s underrated and extremely beneficial.  

So what am I doing about it?  Well, the usual list of: mindfulness, exercise, eating clean (you should see the chicken and kale broth on my job at the minute) etc.  But whats caught my eye is the new trend of cold water therapy.  And this is, in a rambling type way, is what I really wanted to talk about – it’s revolutionary!  After many celebrity endorsements and  reading about the health benefits (mental and physical) I’ve embarked on a daily cold shower.  And at first I thought – trend!  But I’m thinking not and that takes me back to the Norrh Sea…

So…as much as I love the Ionian, I do have a love for our rolling, iron seas (see the earlier lamenting about the North Sea) as I walk daily along the beach, with the water calling me.  Over time I’ve become an all-weather-Walker, who balks at the fair-weather people who only make the trek on a sunny day.  I’ve grown to love the Baltic wind and the icy skies.  The sea just continues to call me.  And bit by bit,  I’ve seen a trend emerging: a number of  swimcapped heads bobbing above the swells – and I think: can it be any different to a cold shower?

Pretty soon I intend to find out. I’ll have to let you know.  And if it’s a trend?  So what.  I’ll be fulfilled, happy and living.  

In the meantime:

Whilst I buy my wetsuit and cap, I’d like you all to think about what you could change.  Make it beneficial for you and see where your new journey takes you!  It might be a hostess trolley, fondue, or a flirtation with joining a gin club.  Whatever it is, make sure it’s about you.  What benefits you and is all about your self-care.  After all, it’s allowed now.  So quieten the noise and make this a turning point for your future.  

A time at which a decisive change in a situation occurs, especially one with beneficial results

Beneficial.  That word is not used enough.  For the first of many years of my life, I ran at 100mph, to juggle all the balls and to work towards ‘winning at life’.  Winning, to me, and many others, was being successful in all matters of materialism.  To have your own home.  To have a happy and healthy family which you could provide for.  To have a successful career.  To have all the trappings…it’s not greed, it’s just human nature.  We want the diet which is fed to us through the media.  We strive for bigger and better.  We just don’t want to be left behind.  

But was any of it beneficial?

Well…house, family, job are always important.  They are our bedrock.  But how do we measure success and is it beneficial to us?  I don’t think it is.  Although having a regular wage helps me sleep at night, it’s never been what’s motivated me to get out of bed in the morning.  If it did, I’d be very worried about my emotional well-being.  Instead, I push myself out of my really comfortable bed (which I craved for in my early twenties) and think about the positives for the day.  I think about my family, my students, and just recently, I think about myself.  Is that selfish? 

Well no!  It’s called self-care.  

Self care is the new buzz word.  A trend which has sprung from the need for highlighting the importance of mental health awareness.  Everywhere I look: emails, magazines, Instagram…everyone wants me to be mindful of my self-care.  And I am!  Guess what?  I’ve needed no persuading.  

You see, once upon a time my plate was very full.  There were times that I never thought I’d get to where I am without killing someone or robbing a bank (but I don’t want to go into that).  All I need to say is that until you are forced to really think, you have no idea what is good for you.  Instead, what I have learnt is that self-care is not selfish, and should be everyone’s priority.

Learning about loving ourself s and our own Self-care, should be a turning point.  Looking at what makes us tick is important.  Isn’t life too short?  It soothes us.  Keeps us calm and happy.  There’s a lot to be said for contentment – I personally think it’s underrated and extremely beneficial.  

So what am I doing about it?  Well, the usual list of: mindfulness, exercise, eating clean (you should see the chicken and kale broth on my job at the minute) etc.  But whats caught my eye is the new trend of cold water therapy.  And this is, in a rambling type way, is what I really wanted to talk about – it’s revolutionary!  After many celebrity endorsements and  reading about the health benefits (mental and physical) I’ve embarked on a daily cold shower.  And at first I thought – trend!  But I’m thinking not as it’s a game-changer… and that takes me back to the Norrh Sea…

So…as much as I love the Ionian, I do have a love for our rolling, iron seas (see the earlier lamenting about the North Sea) as I walk daily along the beach, with the water calling me.  Over time I’ve become an all-weather-Walker, who balks at the fair-weather people who only make the trek on a sunny day.  I’ve grown to love the Baltic wind and the icy skies.  The sea just continues to call me.  And bit by bit,  I’ve seen a trend emerging: a number of  swimcapped heads bobbing above the swells – and I think: can it be any different to a cold shower?

Pretty soon I intend to find out. I’ll have to let you know.  And if it’s a trend?  So what.  I’ll be fulfilled, happy and living.  

In the meantime:

Whilst I buy my wetsuit and cap, I’d like you all to think about what you could change.  Make it beneficial for you and see where your new journey takes you!  It might be a hostess trolley, fondue, or a flirtation with joining a gin club.  Whatever it is, make sure it’s about you.  What benefits you and is all about your self-care.  After all, it’s allowed now.  So quieten the noise and make this a turning point for your future.