Tag: anxiety

Sleep and Sleeplessness

One of the things I love about reading books from my father’s collection is how I reach back in time to thoughts and wisdom often now supplanted by modern theory. One of the elements that I find lacking in current scientific discourse is the spiritual and unknown aspects of life, whereas work from the early 1900’s so often has a greater holistic and curious perspective which feels much more aligned to reality to me.

This delightful book is chock full of wonderful nuggets of wisdom, particularly as both my daughter and I have a tendency for sleep disturbance and insomnia. (Though I might have to investigate further the theory that cucumbers are a potential cause of nightmares before I can concur on that one!)

It was also full of fascinating tales of premonitions or subconscious wisdom being imparted through dreams, from lost treasures found, to deaths felt before news had arrived. The sort of stories that utterly entrance me and are far too numerous and detailed to be able to be dismissed as mere coincidence.

And in conclusion, after much practical analysis, the author also highlights how important faith and prayer is for the peace of mind required for a good and restful night’s sleep. Now that is the kind of scientific ponderings that I can really relate to.

First published on social media on 14th August 2022

The Other Voice

When my son was two, he was hit in the face by a beach swing in Thailand and lifted clean off the ground, resulting in a deep (though thankfully small) cut just underneath his right eye. Armed with steri-strips, cleansing alcohol and Arnica, I cleaned him up, stuck him back together and smothered him with kisses, cuddles and boob!

Even with all my loving care he still looked like he’d been 10 rounds in a MMA ring and of course garnered lots of sympathy and questions from all sorts of strangers.

One Thai man came up super close to me, whilst I was carrying my son, touched his face and said something along the lines of: ‘You are very lucky, he could be blind, you need to be more careful, so close to his eye, he could have lost his eye….’  Well, you can imagine!

This was nearly five years ago and yet what that man said came to me just last week in a moment of clarity and understanding. I replayed it in my head and a monumental epiphany smacked me hard in the solar plexus.

This man was MY other voice.

The tsunami of ‘other’ voices swiftly followed; memories, reactions, hurtful & potent words or comments. All those people I have met so far along my path, whose words felt tough to integrate (good & bad), they were all just different parts of my consciousness being expressed to me loud and clear.

When that Thai man spoke to me that day, my reaction was defence. I smiled, nodded and moved quickly away; I didn’t want to hear and more importantly I didn’t want to consider that possibility that we just so nearly missed. But he was expressing my deepest fears, he was mirroring back to me the heart-stopping moment when I saw my son’s injury and all that could have been. By rejecting it, it has slept silently in the recesses of my mind to pop up now and again in moments of anxiety or fretfulness.

Now I can look at it from another angle; I can embrace it, acknowledge it, own it.

And with that comes the potential to own all of what triggers me in another’s reaction to me. When I rail against, I am only fighting myself. We are all one consciousness; one global thought with layers upon layers of truths and lies and hopes and fears.

With that solar plexus punch I realised how deeply we are all truly connected. ‘We Are One’ is not trite patter but rich and nuanced and soulful.

Imagine if each and every time we felt that defence or trigger in hearing another perspective, we reached inside and owned it as a part of us. We do not have to live it, act it or be it, but simply acknowledge that within us all we hold the infinite potentials, the full spectrum of human nature. Within us is the possibility of our worst and best selves, by embodying that we get to choose which ones to be.

I’ll Always Worry

Twice this week, I have had comments laid at my feet that somehow my expression of mother concern is ‘too much’.

Now I agree that helicopter / smothering mummy is not a good look, nor indeed a healthy option, but judging a mama for being a mama…. now that’s just insanity.

I am always going to worry if my kids have got the right clothes when the weather changes and I’m not there. I am always going to worry that these fragile dynamics of friendships, as they twist and turn into their own unique beings, are upsetting or hurting them. I am always going to worry whether they are getting the right balance of nutrition as I insist on chicken broth and treat them with ice cream.  I am always going to worry about those times when I said ugly words or shouted too loud, that perhaps broke them a little. I am always going to worry if I’m doing the best for my children, holding strong boundaries and gifting freedom of spirit.

It’s my job.

I’m a mama.

So please don’t tell me to relax, or step back or any of those casual utterances that seem to belittle my role. Because more than anything, you don’t see how much I hold my tongue when they tell me about the kid at school who slaps or whispers; how I look at their naked limbs in the icy wind and remind myself that it’s their body; or how much guilt I feel for not knowing what I know now!

You do not see how much I let them go when I ache to hold them tight; that I find ways to help them explore risk and adventure when my heart is beating hard in my throat.

And when I spew my anxieties out it’s in order to clear them from my energy so that I can return to them with calm, thoughtfulness and courage.

I have worried myself into some awesome choices and discoveries as a mother. My worries have pushed me to find the hidden solution, the alternative avenue and the unique path that is creating my family.

But more than anything, these crazy, wonderful beings grew in my tummy (and even if they hadn’t), blew my world and my mind wide open to the glorious intensity of mother love and I am proud to worry about them; excited to have the responsibility of their blossoming souls; and utterly & blissfully surrendered to the knowledge that they will be front and foremost in my mind and heart for the very rest of my days.

I’ll always worry and I make no apologies for that. I have been blessed with this extraordinary job of mother and worrying is  just one small and important part of a truly magnificent whole.

Today Only

My kids, like all kids, are moment to moment peeps. If they are in the middle of a game, or need to put five cars in a bag, or plait their hair before going someone, those things take priority over and above the consideration of being on time and potentially missing something that they really don’t want to miss. No matter how much I explain, the movie won’t wait for us, the party will already be started… using things that would be important to them ‘in that moment’ none of it is going to take them out of THIS moment. 

It drives me absolutely potty AND I want to be like them. 

Today Only 

Yesterday I was talking with my incredible homeopath & friend, running through the anxieties that were causing me physical and uncomfortable symptoms. ALL of them were anxieties about the future. Do I need to do x now in order for y to happen then?… what if I don’t feel like this when that happens?… etc 

And she reminded me so beautifully that every choice that I am pondering and worrying about is a day to day decision. Today, does it feel right to be in no contact with my mother?; today, does it feel right to be cosleeping with my children?; today, does it feel right to be living in this country?; today, does my relationship feel right?; today, am I doing the best that I can for myself and my choices? 

Those are the only decisions I can consider. The future it unknown. Life happens. And suddenly I feel the energetic release from my body as I realise I don’t have to know who I will be in 20 years from now, nor even tomorrow. 

All I can do is Today Only. 

Trigger Me Tantrum

I have been musing over children’s tantrums and how so often the initiating triggers can be unnoticed; the act of distress being so all consuming and energetically confronting that the source becomes lost in the moment. Sadly, when the catalysts are missed the opportunity for empathy, resolution, connection and growth are usually missed too.

My reflections have led me to narrow down what I believe to be the 3 key triggers that lead to emotional meltdown: diet, sleep and anxiety/fear.

Guaranteed that my children will flip out if over tired, filled with refined sugar or too much wheat and guaranteed, if they are unable to control events that cause them concern or are faced with an emotionally threatening situation, they will act out of character and generally become obstructive, unreasonable and sometimes hysterical. But, if I spot that initiator and manage to support them through it, they feel understood, heard and loved. And they grow to understand themselves better because of the complete process.

As I considered these flashpoints, I realised that they naturally apply to adults too. Maybe we don’t tantrum quite in the style of kids (maybe we do sometimes too!) but those places where we act out, where we are less patient, less tolerant, less kind, also predominantly derive from these 3 core triggers.

Sleep and Diet, whilst often in disorder, are more simply managed and controlled. By recognising the importance of their part in our mental wellbeing they can be adjusted to the appropriate priority.

Anxiety and Fear are trickier; far less control; the numerous possibilities of spontaneous and unexpected catalysts; and generally some of life’s more challenging obstacles that can be hurled in our direction at any given moment.

But knowledge is still power and in this case often retrospectively.  At those time when I find myself presenting the less pleasant side of my nature, it is so helpful for me to investigate these 3 triggers and see how I can adjust or support them. If it is anxiety or fear that has reared up, I can take steps to learn to manage that better, to implement change in my life that can reduce that possibility, or even overcome them completely.

Empathy, resolution, connection and growth are created for me, for my children and for others when I take a breath to explore the source of the behaviour. No one tantrums because they think it’s cool or healthy, it’s a hard place to go and it deserves every effort to understand it.

Time to Fly

In the past few weeks I have been assailed by anxiety; heart racing, breath suffocating and waking for hours in the night.

This is not new to me but it has been a long time since I have experienced such a prolonged and unceasing episode.

Old habits rise up and tempt me to ease the sensations, the desire to numb (food, drugs, alcohol) or distract (replacing with the physical pain of self harm), but my commitment to myself and my children helps me to reach for the healthier soothers that I have developed over these years of healing. One tool has been the learned ability to sit with the feelings and witness them unfold rather than a trying to escape them. Ooof! A hard one but it has been enlightening to observe the trail of my thoughts in the early hours of the morning.

Another of my soothers is reading. Falling into a world of delicious and enticing fiction calms me and takes me out of my own world for while, a break from the pressure on my chest. When it’s not fiction, I choose works that inspire me to reconnect with my spirit, to bring me back to faith and trust in the Divine; words & belief that can draw me away from my obsessive and destructive anxiety spiral.

Last night, my early hours were occupied with the words of Dr Eben Alexander, a neurosurgeon, who experienced a profound NDE (Near Death Experience) that filled him with the ultimate trust in the Universe, in Love and Light. His words and description of his journey between life and death are beyond beautiful and a wonderful reminder for me to hold that bigger picture in my daily life.

When I was growing up, my mother used to say that I would need to meet somebody who could let me fly but who could also ground me. She was half right; I do need to be around people that don’t inhibit my wish to fly, to dive into the world of divinity and philosophical exploration, but the grounding she spoke of was a need to be held back into the ‘reality’ of our practical world and what I have realised over the past few weeks is that it is those details that create so much of my anxiety. Constantly pulling myself back into the minutiae of daily life, I keep forgetting my core belief of trust, I step too far into the fear of left brained conditioning and up springs my anxiety.

Eben Alexander’s ‘Proof of Heaven’ is one of those gifts that reminds me to reconnect with my spiritual reflections.

It’s time to fly.