Where The Roses Bloom

This post was inspired by my mom. She was talking about what it’s like being a woman in her 60’s, trying to stay healthy and active.

And she gave me the greatest tip for choosing a form of exercise.

Instead of looking at the young people who are involved in whatever you are thinking about, look at the people who have been doing it for decades. Don’t just focus on what it will do for your body now, think about what is coming on the road ahead.

All this to say – in her age group, the ‘yoga ladies’ seem happiest.

It’s worth noting that my mother doesn’t actually practice yoga, so this isn’t a quest to convert others to what she is doing, but instead an observation.

Many of the runners she knows find themselves struggling with a string of injuries. . Or people involved in competitive sports find themselves frustrated as their bodies age and they lose their edge.

Of course first and foremost, you should do what you love, what excites you, what gets you out of bed. Not everyone can love yoga.

But if you’re on the fence or feeling unmotivated, seeing the difference it can make to your life in the years ahead is a great reason to get involved. Don’t just look for who is fit – look for who is happy.

Photo by Wesley Tingey on Unsplash

Right now, it seems like so many people in my online cancer groups are struggling. Some of them are in the midst of treatment, some of them are years out, but there seems to be a general trend towards people feeling low, fatigued, depressed, or lost.

I think there are bigger trends contributing to what seems like a mini collection of crises. I don’t know if this is due to the days getting shorter. I don’t know how much of this connects to the broader struggles affecting so many people during this pandemic.

For me, it’s a bit up and down. Most days, I am generally happy, even though my energy levels have been flagging a bit lately. It’s taken nearly a year since chemo to find this kind of equilibrium. I don’t feel like I am struggling in the way some of these folks are experiencing, though I recognise the feelings they describe. And I know I will probably find myself circling back to that place again at some point in the future.

When I’m able to let go of the idea that I should somehow be doing better/more, it really helps.

There is a brilliant article called After the Treatment Finishes by Dr Peter Harvey, which was also shared with me again by a counsellor who specialises in supporting people living with cancer.

He outlines that this is a three stage process: recuperation, convalescence, and rehabilitation. We expect to be able to jump ahead, but we have to be patient about moving at the speed of our bodies’ healing.

I struggled to pull out a few favourite takeaways, because the whole article is so valuable. But I particularly liked this bit:

“In our enthusiasm we often forget just how complex and difficult this life business is, and it’s only when you have to get back on the roundabout that you realise this. Sometimes I think that living is like competing in an Olympic event – but because we take it so much for granted we forget how demanding and tiring it can be, even at an ordinary, everyday level. Let’s take this analogy further and pretend that we are all Olympic sprinters – a rather farfetched concept in my case, I should add – who have had a serious injury. We would not consider getting back to running the 100 metres until we had fully recovered. We would put ourselves on a gentle retraining programme, beginning with gentle walks rather than sprints. Getting back to living life should be done in the same way. A gentle build-up to the main event.”

It is only bit by bit that seeds can take root and grow, and that as living beings we can find these changes within ourselves.

But actually, I think the best sum up came from a woman named Amy in one of my cancer groups. She gave me her permission to quote her comment in this post – I can’t really think of any better way to sum it up myself. This a response to a post from someone who is really struggling:

“I think a lot of us seem to be feeling like this recently. I also feel as if I had more mental energy and a better outlook last year, closer to finishing treatment than now.

I think when I am struggling mentally I have less physical energy too.

I also feel that family and friends expect me to be better and ‘back to normal’ now.I explained this to my consultant and she said that young women in particular, expect themselves to be back to how they used to be very quickly, I suppose just because we are expected to get back to normal life.

She reminded me the extent of the treatments I – and we – have had and that the body has taken such a knock it will take a while.

She also stressed to be kind to myself and listen to my body. Take some time out and do something relaxing and for you. Don’t feel as though you are failing at recovery, because we are at just the right stage in recovery as our bodies are ready for (if that makes sense). Everyone’s recovery is different and is done at our own pace.”

May we be gentle and kind with ourselves. And may we also remember – even though it doesn’t always feel this way – that there are more people out there than we can even imagine who care and understand these issues, and are there to help us pick ourselves up when we stumble on the road to recovery.

Photo by Aron Visuals on Unsplash

I’m still getting to grips with my shock and my news over his death.

When I first saw the news, I thought it was a hoax.

How can it be that an artist who burns so brightly and with such energy can be taken by by this devastating, wasting disease? And how on earth did he create that body of work while undergoing what was no doubt a gruelling treatment regime for colon cancer?

It feels scary and sad to see a young person struck down by cancer. But part of why it feels so upsetting is the sheer shock of the news. He was an actor seemingly at the top of his game – and now he’s gone. It’s incredible that he was able to kept his illness secret during his lifetime. I can’t imagine how heavy that burden must have felt at times.

I came across a quote recently that fame requires an ability to carry other people’s projections. I feel that Chadwick Boseman had that quality – but with something more. There was a reason he played so many icons – and iconoclasts. He had the strength and charisma to carry the dreams and desires of so many, but without ever letting anyone else tell him who he was. His integrity was always visible, and something I deeply admired.

What always struck me most when looking at his work and the way that he talked about it was his seriousness of purpose as a person and as an artist – and the impact he made is stunning, particularly in comparison to his years on this earth.

Rest In Power. Those words have never felt more appropriate.

Photo by David Hogg on Flickr Commons

Do you find it painful to keep to a schedule?

I do. At least, as a general rule.

I feel like I have so many plans or schemes I have set up and abandoned.

Whenever I try to set things up, there is a feeling of rebellion, an urge to paint outside the lines, and follow my spontaneous interests and desires instead of adhering to the schedule I had set up.

But lately, something seems to have started to shift. I’m finding more satisfaction in making a plan and sticking to it.

I realised today that an important mindset shifts seems to have happened for me.

Traditionally, I have loaded my schedule with things that I am supposed to do. All the shoulds, obligations, and requirements.

I don’t know if it is a side effect of being trapped at home with quarantine, the result of emerging from the cocoon of cancer, or just some simple growing up, but I’ve stopped approaching my schedule that way.

Rather than setting it up as a list of things I have to do, I’ve started seeing it as a way to fit in the things that I want to do.

When I approach it from the perspective of making room for the things that I want to prioritise or that feel important, planning out my time feels, dare I say, almost pleasurable?

Because it means I can see how each of the things that are important to me can fit in my life.

And somehow, I find it much easier to be realistic about how long things actually take (answer: longer than you think) when I am approaching it from a pleasure-based perspective rather than a never-ending laundry list.

And I’ve been surprised – those ‘shoulds’ haven’t fallen through the cracks, because they feel important, so I make room to tackle them.

But instead of dominating my schedule, they fit in alongside the other things that are important – time playing with Rosie, time making creative work, or time to just sit and do something fun, even if it’s just for fifteen minutes.

It seems like the key is taking a dynamic approach, doing a gut check on a daily basis about whether what feels important has changed, and leaving enough space to adapt when the unexpected arises.

It feels like it works best f I start with a list, in order, of the things that feel really important to accomplish in that day. The key is to approach this from the perspective of the big picture of how I want my life to look, rather than working form an existing to do list – although it’s helpful to give a list of lingering to do’s a quick scan to see if anything really urgent has been left off.

Once I know what is important, it’s just like doing a puzzle around the fixed pieces, and working out how they can fit.

I suspect I will drift back into old habits eventually, so there are are some useful questions to have ready to ask myself:

Is your schedule a tool to discipline yourself?

Or…

Is time planning a way to make sure there is room for the things that you want in your life?

(FWIW: It’s worth noting that this felt like an absolute impossibility when I when I was in my absolute most stressed time trying to hit tight deadlines for my radio project without any childcare. You have to have some measure of control over your own time for this to work, but I think the mindset shift would be helpful even during the times when I have less say over my own time.)

Photo by Lukas Blazek on Unsplash