It all seems so complicated

Does anyone else get the feeling that everything seems so complicated, yet the same, all at once?

I’ve been thinking of the simplicity of days past. Times when everything seemed rather natural, easeful. Unplanned. Unrestrained.

When I was a kid, it wasn’t a chore to go outside for fresh air. To play. It’s where I wanted to be. So much freedom. Escaping from watchful eyes, I could walk and explore. Look to find someone to come along with me, or meander on my own.

I would walk and jump. Skip down the sidewalks. Come upon the monkey bars in the playground, stopping to hang out for a bit.

I might hum a few tunes along the way or daydream about what I might do tomorrow. Maybe tomorrow I would find some friends hanging about. Perhaps we were lucky enough to have 10 cents to spend after finishing our paper routes. Anticipating all it might buy. Licorice strings that I could practice braiding together. The green ones being my favorite. Powered sugar in long straws. Those crackle-pop things that would burst all at once in your mouth.

I loved to dip my hands in the mud after a heavy rain… looking for unknown treasure. Or place small twigs and leaves alongside the gutter and watch how long they would travel down the street before some kind of obstruction from mud or rock stopped the adventure. Pick flowers. Build tree forts in the yet-to-be-developed suburbs. Throw snowballs. Play road hockey. Always trying to beat my older brothers at their own game, from which I was excluded.

I would play by the light of the day. Navigate the way home by twilight for dinner or bedtime depending on the season. The sun dipping low as my cue for either. That, or someone calling “supper time” in the neighborhood out their front door. It might be my mom, or maybe it was yours. It didn’t much matter as it was still a signal that our time was up.

Today, the day is clocked, watched. Tuned by the rhythm of the pings, alarms, flashes of light so we don’t miss a thing.

These days I’m now wandering rather aimlessly around the neighborhoods, gasping for a little fresh air. Looking for a friendly face to say hello to behind my mask. Some boldly saying hello. Others holding their breath, covering their face as they make room to unobtrusively pass by. This being masked, eyes down, gaze lowered. A story for another time.

The simplest of movements now are so guarded, watched. Complicated. I believe things are changing, opening up again where I live two days from now. Unless of course, they don’t. Stay tuned.

I don’t anticipate normal any time soon.

In the meanwhile I hope some of the young kids I see about the neighborhood these days are dreaming of ways to use this technology at our fingertips to some helpful advantage. At the same time figuring out how we might again disconnect to reconnect. Look up and out. Stir our imaginations towards a more wise, self-sustaining yet uncomplicated future for the ones we love.

We are surely in it

A sense of connection.

The opportunity to be seen, heard, acknowledged. Understood.

Having some agency, a sense of control over what is happening in your life.

The ability to move around in the world. To get up and down, tend to daily tasks at hand.

Do what brings you joy, pleasure.

Nourishes you.

Touch.

To experience community.

Reliability.

Freedom.

Independence.

I can imagine that many of these bring up some kind of sensation in your body as you read through the list. So many we take for granted.

I have a sense you may be missing a few, maybe a lot of these. Feeling loss or grief.

I know I am.

It’s not gone unnoticed by me that many of these are already experienced by the people I see, those I help to support through my work. It is not uncommon for people who have lived with chronic pain, often for years, to feel this sense of isolation, the loss of freedoms, work, connection with others. Well, there is a lot.

This came up up front and center when the hardest hit in our communities were those living in senior or extended care centers. They were already living in such a manner. Already in it.

Many others living with health concerns, disability, low socioeconomic status, new immigrants to our country have this as a part of their ‘normal life’. Not COVID life.

I don’t have the answers but my hope is that we bring some awareness to these issues, some path forward for the long term. Not just now.

Everyone waiting for things to get back to normal. Talk today of vaccines and yes, one can hardly wait. There is so much on hold at the moment. Much fear, uncertainty. I can feel that. Sense that.

But might we also learn from and change in some way, what is often normal for many.

Think back to when this first began and the heightened state of everyone around you. I can surely remember what it felt like walking through the grocery store as everyone was scrambling for Lysol wipes and toilet tissuse. Nervous systems all on high alert, seeking some sense of security and groundedness.

Perhaps we can begin to imagine what that feels like for so many when these big life events or ‘transitions’ happen. Injury, illness, aging, loss, grief. Can we learn ways to help with that, to sit with that, bring some care and ease to the person in need.

We’re all going to be there at some point.

Something will happen. If not before, we will grow old. We will struggle. Lose independence. Freedom. Ability to do things.

Might we provide for, care for, those who are already ‘in it’.

Breath Holding, an Inquiry

Tofino, BC

I was having a discussion with a client this week about the breath and how we breathe. We were talking about the relationship between our body, our breath and how breath moves in relationship to gravity. The forces of gravity, the loads we feel.

Breath awareness is often a focus in yoga. Both in yoga classes and also in a more therapeutic practice of yoga. We spend a lot of time noticing breath, feeling the breath as it moves. Noticing the length of breath, the inhales, the exhales. Where we feel the breath move, in our body.

Taking a different path, perhaps we can explore how breath might not always be moving, or moving so well. As in when you’re holding your breath. Which you might not readily notice throughout the day, unless you pay attention to it.

The basis of this inquiry is from Donna Farhi’s The Breathing Book (highly recommend the book). She states the purpose of the inquiry being:

To identify the situations and activities in which you most commonly engage in breath holding. We don’t usually recognize how much tension we invest in simple activities such as talking or cooking because we don’t recognize the situation as terribly stressful. You may be surprised and disconcerted to discover that you hold your breath in almost every conceivable situation.

Let’s check this out.

Starting today and for the rest of this week, take notice of when you hold your breath. What you’re doing when you hold your breath. Where you are, who you’re with. Make a mental note, or actually write it down so you don’t forget.

You may notice it when you’re speaking on the phone with someone. Perhaps your boss. Or you may notice it when you’re leaning over to make your bed. Or you may notice you hold your breath when your attention is really focused on something, like when driving down busy streets.

Then, you might want to see if you can change it in some way. Just breathe a little more freely if you can. Try not to judge anything, just notice.

I’ve noticed this pattern of breath holding in myself, particularly, in these days. Before I started wearing a mask I would sometimes catch myself holding my breath as I walked by someone. Or when I felt they were standing too near to me. I suspect there was some fear involved in my response. It’s like I didn’t want to take breath in, at that moment.

We’ll do more specific explorations, next week. And maybe get a little curious about how this might affect or influence pain.

Check back with me on Monday (June 29th) for more. In the meantime, keep noticing.

It might feel good to move it!

Anxiety. Worry. Stress. Fear.

These are uncertain times and so many are feeling vulnerable, whether it’s about health, financial security or so many other concerns.

And yes, there are times when it’s helpful to quiet the mind, tame the thoughts, seek some silence, stillness and perhaps peace in all the chaos.

However, that isn’t always helpful. Doesn’t always work.

I know myself when I am stressed what helps me most is to move. Yes, I start cleaning my house when wound up, upset, feeling anxious, or stressed. There is something about burning off energy that might help to bring some space for quiet, relaxation, peace when you’re done. It might help you sleep. Maybe calm your nervous system. After all, when we are in crisis or feel threatened the nervous system is all about getting your attention, mobilization, preparing for action that might be required.

What might be helpful for you? Below are a few ideas, you might like to try:

  • Put on some loud, upbeat music and move in some way.
  • Dance.
  • Clean. Get at those windows and at the same time get some fresh air when you’re opening them or stepping outside.
  • Practice yoga, tai chi, whatever floats your boat.
  • Lift some weights.
  • Get on that ‘dust collector’ piece of exercise equipment sitting in your house and expend some of that nervous energy.
  • If you’ve got a few extra pantry items that you seemingly stocked up with, bake.
  • Cook.

Let me know how it goes. I know after working at my desk today, I am feeling the need to get up and move it!

Take good care of yourself (and others).

**If you’re feeling distressed, please be sure to reach out to a local resource. For those in Ottawa, call the Ottawa Distress Line

613-238-3311