Mental space on Ilkley Moor

On Sunday I went up Ilkley Moor, alone. I brought with me my headphones, a laminated map, a smartphone (with a waning battery – eek! ), water and some dark chocolate. I was in search of something, a feeling, a deep whole body breath, maybe something I can’t put into words. I needed nature and to walk. I needed air in my face.

Until that point I’d had a strange weekend, hadn’t slept too well the night before, I instinctively felt I needed to move and ‘get out of the flat’. En route, I popped into Booth’s café, Ilkley’s posh supermarket, for a cuppa, a map read, and a pause. I was feeling slightly apprehensive, as I was going to be walking alone and I don’t have the greatest sense of direction and of course, I was lacking Zzz’s from the night before, but, still, I was enthusiastic.

I parked at the Cow and Calf, which are the rocks on Ilkley Moor, there is a free carpark here. The Calf rock is a stand-alone boulder next to the larger formation, and I knew I needed to walk to the right of that. The thing is I walked WAY to the right of that. Before I knew it, I was lost. I wasn’t too anxious as at this point it was only early afternoon, I had plenty of hours to go before I needed to set off the flares (which I didn’t have) and panic about spending a night on the Moor. Eventually I asked some fellow hikers to point out my location on the map. Somehow I’d walked right over to Keighley Road, which was in the opposite direction of my planned route! At least I now knew where I was, which was a big relief.

It was a beautiful walk from there on, with the anxiety of being lost now clearing from my mind, I started to really appreciate my surroundings. I walked alongside purple heather, with birds flying around, dipping in and out of the flora, under a big cloudy and blue sky. Hardly anyone there, just me, and the odd person running.

I arrived at the 12 Apostles, the remains of a stone circle, and took a breather. It was refreshing and the huge space seemed to help soothe something inside of me, and also give me a feeling of mental space, I felt peaceful and at one with something. It felt like a big refreshing cleansing breath.

I realised that perhaps, now, it wasn’t too sensible to continue on with the original route, I had lost time by taking the ‘detour’ which meant there was less time to complete it. I was alone, had little mobile battery, and couldn’t guarantee that I wouldn’t get lost again and it was nearing 6pm. So I headed back to the carpark and arrived safely.

We are lucky in Leeds, we have many places to walk nearby. I can’t rely on my sense of direction, but I factor this into my decision-making, I know my weaknesses. If you have a map and set off early enough with some safety supplies the risks should be minimal. It’s empowering to walk alone but it’s also nice to have company, and if you have a dog, well that’s a no-brainer! 🙂

I’m really glad I went.

My Sober October 2020

So it’s the year that didn’t happen. A year of cancellations. A year of staying in and for me this meant alone in my flat, which could be a recipe for disaster. I felt my alcohol intake was creeping back up. So I decided to do Sober October.

I can’t drink much, I’ve experienced periods of really difficult mental health and alcohol tends to make this worse. When drinking I don’t sleep well, I tend to overeat and feel low. There was a time where it was a real crutch for me, it was a coping mechanism but one which led me further down a downward spiral.

I had history when it came to abstaining, I gave up alcohol for 6 months a few years ago, and have completed numerous Dry Januarys and always feel so much better. Having an alcohol-free month this October has given my mind and body a chance to replenish. I’ve been more self-caring, I’ve practised yoga in the morning with my light box on and I’m just about managing the elusive morning routine. I’ve also had more energy in the evenings to do things instead of slumping on the sofa, OKAY I’ve still sometimes slumped on the sofa!! My thinking has been clearer and my mood steadier. It’s been good for me, I’m not going to rush back to alcohol.

Image by B Ban from Pixabay

There are loads of Sober Facebook groups out there, I joined one the first time around and it helped. It was great as people were so committed to being alcohol free, for some people it was and is a necessity.

I would recommend the following book if you are interested in reducing/giving up alcohol, This Naked Mind, Control Alcohol by Annie Grace. In it she talks about the power of the subconscious; how we take messages in from society which bypass our thinking brain, such messages include the regular occurring Facebook meme ‘Wine O’clock.’ Drinking is seen as fun and normal – it’s WHAT YOU DO ! In fact it’s the only drug that people/society will openly pressure you to take!

I’d love to hear any stories about alcohol and mental health if you would like to share..

Thanks for reading, Tori. x

Disclaimer, it can be dangerous to give up alcohol if you have a physical dependency without medical supervision. Also it can be really tricky if you are struggling without much support. If you feel you need more support with alcohol contact your GP or Forward Leeds.

Meanwood Valley Trail, the view of Almscliffe Crag and an Owl.

Since Lockdown began, ironically,  I think I have walked more in North Leeds then ever before.  I’ve also been adventurous in finding new routes.  I do wonder why I wasn’t doing this before? Maybe life was too fast – at least in my head, as fast as the cars on Otley road – which also seem to have slowed down.

I live close to the Meanwood Valley Trail, yet had not really explored it that well, until now.  The trail starts at Woodhouse Moor and meanders through Meanwood Park, alongside the beck and small waterfalls, meeting Seven Arches and ending at Golden Acre Park. It’s a 7 mile linear walk, though you can walk it in little sections and create your own route.

Image: Seven Arches aqueduct which was built in 1840 to carry water from the Eccup Reservoir to the City Centre via Adel Beck.  Leodis Photographic Archive of Leeds.

The trail is absolutely stunning, especially at this time of year along with lovely weather, clear blue skies and chirpy bird song.  I’m still amazed that countryside and woods, so beautiful,  are so close to a city. I moved back ‘up north’ from London years ago and still don’t take for granted how green some parts of Leeds are.   The scenic journey to Otley from North Leeds, provides a stunning vista which includes the iconic Almscliffe Crag, it’s a favourite of mine and it never fails to take my breath away.

Yesterday, when walking back I heard a ‘screeching’ sound coming from a tree, it was so loud and piercing, almost human-like.   I peered up into the tree and to my delight I saw an Owl looking back at me!  This, in the middle of the day.   I felt in awe. Wow.  I mean WOW!   I am wondering if something had disturbed him? Another bird perhaps?  I have never heard a sound like that before, it wasn’t the ‘twit twoo ing’ I sometimes have heard at night.

I’ve had a look on the internet for ‘owls’ and I think it may have been a ‘Little Owl?’    Could this be?  Any bird spotters out there?

I think I am living ‘in the moment’  a bit more,  in lockdown.   I’m noticing more, and paying more attention to nature.

I know we can’t all access the trail, but nature can be found everywhere.   My friend saw a fox in Armely last night by the light of the moon!

Waterfall in Meanwood Valley Trail, taken in 2016 by me! 

Five weeks in lockdown

It’s been over 5 weeks since we entered Lockdown on March 23rd, and ever since  I’ve been living in what seems like a little bubble,  alone in North Leeds.

If I’m honest it’s not been all bad,  at times it’s almost felt like a relief for the world to slow down, that is if I  forget about the horrors of the situation for a while.   As someone who struggles with anxiety and at times depression, I have have often wanted the world to stop.  Let me take a breath.  Though, of course,  I would never have traded this for our current,  sad situation.

I’ve looked out of my window more often than ever and was amazed and delighted to watch the trees sprout their leaves overnight. I have never ever noticed this so precisely before! Usually I walk or run around with a foggy brain and can’t pinpoint the timing of these changes, so I feel happy about that!   I’ve also been enjoying watching a homely-looking visitor sun himself in the tree opposite, basking in the beautiful weather that April brought – a plump wood pigeon.

 

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I’ve been forced to live in the moment a bit more, and pay more attention to nature.  And this I like, I am wondering how I can hold on to this when things eventually return to normal?

Though sometimes it’s felt more of a struggle.  I’m guessing I won’t be alone in having good days and bad days.  I’m acutely aware that for some people times are really hard right now.   At times I’ve felt guilty about not doing more,  but I’m determined not to let these thoughts and feelings linger.    I try to exercise a bit of self-compassion on tricky days, and I find fresh air helps to clear my mind.   I remind myself that by staying at home, I am doing my bit, as we all are.  I hope you are all okay! 

The times they are a’changin

Tock-tick!

& miraculously!… (actually mechanically) with a quick flick of the wrist. Hey Presto we’ve turned back time. To find we’ve earlier darker evenings.

No matter that the turning back time ritual takes place  each year in UK it makes many people disorientated. That’s hardly surprising for it occurs when nature is already heralding a change for the colder seasons. And we’re humans not machines, unlike time pieces, we’re not so easily adjusted.

One of my time pieces depicted here, doesn’t keep time anymore. With it’s zany numbering it never accurately told time. Always Dylanesque. It’s a keepsake, reminding me of its maker and also I guess that measuring time needs the occasional disruptive and zany take.

In my ‘Songs of Praise’ blog I suggested the darker evenings were an atmospheric time to reflect and write. The return to longer hours conjures memories of crafts done by the fireside at home. There’s no doubt writing is a craft and not the easiest for some!

Those of us old enough to remember using (and making) coal fires will know that as a focal point of our homes, fireplaces served both practical and symbolical uses. Images of sitting near a radiator just  don’t comfort in quite the same way.

Mother Nature would have got us to the darker evenings in her own sweet, slower way, but that’s humans for you always manipulating nature. Not that I think that’s all bad.

So at least for a week or two ‘she’ allows us a lighter hour in the morning. And what  spectacular Autumn mornings we’ve had.

November already! And just a short sprint to mid-winter festivals.

Because this is a blog about wellbeing, and I referred in my earlier blog about simple pastimes that aid my wellbeing; good friends, songs and how a dissenting religous upbringing gave me much to be happy about..

…bear with me while I tie those two notions; ‘wellbeing’ and ‘dissent’ together, as I relate a recent experience in my quest to remain well.

In my desire to reduce use of medication I’ve been prescribed for many years I agreed for my GP to refer me to a psychiatrist for advice how to do that. I was 99% confident I was mentally well and therefore not intent on seeking assessment for that.**(check footnote)

The 1%  doubt?…. I do think having once been acutely mentally distressed and receiving a diagnosis does even though well, allow self-doubt to creep in. It does for me especially when I encounter things that seriously test my sense of perception, at those times I can quickly become emotionally aroused, filled with self-doubt, distressed, and disorientated because I can’t match thought with feeling…..

Feelings like….stomach churning, dizziness, forgetfulness, a pounding head…and then feeling ‘down’, emotionally, drained; wrung out like a wet cloth.
That’s how ‘stepping’ in, and then out of the psychiatrists office on this occasion left me. And with a prescription for increased medication!

I’d been discharged from  CMHT for years but I’ve visited the same building for different services in the interim.CAB etc but it’s not been triggering. Although seeing people in the waiting area there who are acutely unwell is never a pleasant experience.

So what has a dissenting religious upbringing got to do with that? For me its because it helped me develop an inner strength when stigmatized for my core beliefs. Alert to other similar instances when ‘gaslighting’ occurs. And a drive to voice any injustice in creative ways. Experience shows that addressing them directly at ‘source’ is not always a safe option or wise when mental health is in doubt.

Time will tell how this current assault on personal truth pans out. It did knock me off course but the reassurance of friends, very much appreciated, helped me regain composure sufficiently well to draw upon my inner wellspring of self belief, to declare I am mentally well.

Lily.P

** my view on psychiatry are personal and I know many do excellent work, I’ve experienced some good practice.  Medication has it’s place and I do not ‘pill shame’ or advocate anyone stopping medication without appropriate support. I was however recently able to attend the relaunch of Sorteria in Bradford and the Soteria Network  are a useful resource for anyone who does seek support reducing or coming off.

 

Songs of praise

 

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So, in among the Autumn season, with all it’s mellow vibes and vistas, the slow turning of Summer hues edging into Fall’s more glorious gold and amber tinged days.
Blood red & burnt orange berries (so plump and plentiful this year), the rustling leaves, and blustery days,… I get the ‘call’ to go to church.

I hasten to add I’m no longer a Christian nor was I ever a traditional church goer. My upbringing though firmly of Christian tradition was the dissenting kind.
I am pleased that it was!
(But that’s another blog story) to be told when turned back clocks will suddenly make our daylight hours much shorter.

So why or what ‘called’ me to church earlier this Autumn? … I’m not sure. Maybe the memory of the harvest hymn with it reassurance….”all is safely gathered in”. The gathering together of people for other than material needs?

I went to a faith school as a child, and there learned to love many of the things which at home I’d been told I ought abstain from! But I loved Harvest Festival, I loved the old hymns, and songs of praise in daily assembly. And so did my parents when I sang hymns for them at home possibly reasoning that ‘true’ Christians saints could well have written them…”For all the saints…”

Church buildings? …I was a little fearful of them when young especially the gargoyles but not these days, now I embrace the iconography of dark and light, the cherabim, seraphim and gargoyles alike.
I like the musk or myrrh incense, polished wood pews, mosaic stained glass windows and that rather musty smell.

At the start of Autumn I attended church and though none of the old hymns were sung it was lovely to have a live music  trio to play the newer ones. New tunes, a newer dogma for a different era of belief. The sermon was more like a public talk, and the prayers led by a young female member not clergy. I liked the fellowship that happened halfway through the service when everyone circulated and greeted each other, “peace be with you” and shook hands.

I’ve a regular visitor who comes to my home after attending their Sunday morning church service, and we do sometimes lapse into songs of praise or …nursery rhyme after our hastily assembled corner shop lunch offering.

Mr Kipling still does ‘fancies’, and Del Monte, their fruit cocktail, which probably aren’t full of vitamins, or health giving but they seem to aid the snooze factor, because soon after eating we doze off in our respective chairs! We are after all well over a certain age.

And then on waking a sing-song before we bid farewell.

It happened this last Sunday, I’d thought to cancel the visit as I wasn’t too well, but low and behold a dose of “Love divine all love excelling”…and other old hymns, together with an interchange of simple pleasantries with “my good friend”,* perked me up.

A ‘taste’ of former days when sans landline, gadgets & digi devices people popped by, and ‘entertainment’ was spontaneous….often accompanied by corner shop bought fodder. Angel Delight! Anyone remember that? Or Spam…when spam only came in cans with a key! None of your ring pull modernisation..

I love many of the advances we’ve made technically and gastronomically!
…but I hope we can still hang on to enjoying face-to-face times with good friends along the way.

Lily.P

* “my good friend”.My visitor who I’ve known 30+ years  (we were only on “good morning” terms back then, as part of our respective daily commutes) always greets me this way.
Most other friendships don’t need this kind of affirmation, for it’s taken as read, but I still find it pleasant, and one of an earlier era where quaint was welcome.

Creativity

Five words that I feel capture the essence of creativity most are: spontaneity, catalyst, commitment, expression, and relief. You can contribute your own words here.

The explanation for my choices is….

Spontaneity
Creative ideas can occur to us unexpectedly.

Catalyst
Like a photograph our initial creative thoughts develop quickly.

Commitment
No matter how long it takes, we should pursue our creative idea to completion.

Expression
Creativity has to reflect our individuality.

Relief
Like the painter who draws their best portrait, you can feel fulfilled with your creative output.

With respect to my creativity, my chosen words become most relevant under certain ‘conditions’.  I am at my most creative when I’m; getting positive feedback, in the company of friends and family, when seeing the creative work of others, and when refreshed after a walk.

Motivated by these ‘conditions’, my creativity is channelled in the following ways…

Writing
My creative ‘vice’ is writing. My ideas come from anywhere. I see my body of writing as a continuous record of my emotions. I feel that writing frees me from the ‘responsibility’ for my ideas, for then I can think about new things. I try to use language creatively when writing.

Media
I creatively express myself, by choosing to absorb media products (like DVDs and books) that are distinctly ‘me’. Some media products profoundly, and positively, alter me. I am amazed when I find other people have given them to charity, because these products (like the book The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime) gave me different perspectives.

 

Clothes
Being able to choose my own style of clothing at college, meant I could express myself through fashion. I often chose to wear layers, a poncho, and odd socks. I like buying clothes. When I wear clothes from charity shops, where items are not donated in bulk, I like feeling “unique”.

Tidiness
“A place for everything…”. As a lecturer of mine once said: humans tend to scatter things behind them. Where something ‘lives’ might therefore, kangaroo-like, ‘hop’ about. In my living space, all of my belongings have their ‘place’. I like being organised because I get a cathartic sense of achievement, and I like the space that materialises when I’ve uncluttered.

 

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Social Media
I customise the look of my social media pages, for instance WordPress. My Facebook activity log, and wall, have links to internet articles of personal interest. I get a creative high from compressing a small section, of the internet’s large field of digital content.

Making others laugh
I enjoy using my verbal skills to make others laugh. I try to emulate the comedians that I admire, such as Jim Carrey and Tommy Cooper. I frequently experiment with word play, and create jokes, as I have done for years. Making people laugh this way is uplifting.

 

In view of the fact that this article is for a website that discusses well-being, I will now explore the link between my creativity and well-being.

My creative impulses spontaneously compel me to do creative things, like cutting my own hair or colouring in. When I do have an urge to be creative, which is similar to an innate ‘drive’, I just have to follow the impulse before I can do anything else. Doing creative activities makes me feel that I am being positive and constructive.

People seem to like the feeling of being spiritually ‘freed’, as well as feeling productive, when they do something that expresses who they are. I think these are the traits of creativity, that most benefit well-being.

Thank you for reading – I hope you enjoyed it.

By A

Sources:

social media image – social media icons: Ibrahim.ID (author): 03/01/06 – found on https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Socialmedia-pm.png (accessed 22/06/2018)(Attribution) By Ibrahim.ID [CC BY-SA 4.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0)%5D, via Wikimedia Commons

comedy stage image – Empty stage for a stand-up comedy show: Carlos Delgado (author) – found on https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Stand-up_comedy_-_Stage.jpg (accessed 22/06/2018) …  (Attribution) Carlos Delgado [CC BY-SA 3.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0)%5D, from Wikimedia Commons

comedy mask image – A Comedy icon, based on the Drama Icon: Abu badli~commonswiki (user author) – found on https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Comedyicon.svg (accessed 22/06/2018)

Springtime in the countryside

Spring lambs, Daffodils, and a cheeky Muscovy Duck

It’s such a beautiful time of year to explore the countryside.  I find spring is good for my soul!  After a long winter it’s finally here (although still cold!)

I went on a beautiful country walk this morning around Ilkley Moor,  and what was most memorable were the beautiful daffodils of differing shades and spring lambs kicking their heels and wagging their tails whilst suckling milk from their mums.    I felt joy at these precious sights, and forgot about other things for a while.  I was in awe at the  delicate beauty of the flower, and captivated by the energy and playfulness of the little lambs, who radiated happiness! 

Nature isn’t  a panacea for all my woes, but I found today very soothing and I feel refreshed.   On  Saturday evening,  I visited Golden Acre Park and fed the ducks.  (Rock and Roll!:))  There is a Muscovy Duck there who is such a confident character,   I read a couple of local birding blogs, and it seems others have had encounters with him,  apparently he’s bitten a couple of people.  I would say he is a cross between a goose and a duck, he has the cheek of a goose.  I enjoyed his company.

#springtimeinleeds #soothingnature

 

 

Reading Lives

You meander back after a long bus ride
When something catches your eye
From that charity shop window
And a mat shakes hands with your shoes

Shelves burst with wallpaper samples
That swallow chunks of intricately shattered porcelain
Showing skillful limbs or perceived skirts

Then you see droplets
Marked with words like “Huckleberry Finn”
Whilst, somewhere,
Clusters of other letters dissolve into a grid

That canvas bucket can carry each drop
But it doesn’t hold the aroma of royal silver

Your feet create the latest dance craze
Born between those display cases
And kindled by the looks of tired assistants
The calcium in your arms turns blue

Finally a plastic bag cradles a clear conscience
Anticipating only the journey
Unobstructed by personal greetings
To the reader who thinned the pages

Once home your new book falls open
To reveal an abyss 
From where Twain returns a ticket
To the city of Yellbormoon

You claw for the box
Where an envelope addressed “…”
And a faceless group image
Both specked with red wool
Scrunch the train ticket to Y….moon
With the energy of 4,000 giants
And they will for 40 years

Like stranded boatmen
At times bump a buoy
Familiar strangers
Gently graze your history
Requesting in lieu of your gratitude
A mere time capsule

By A 

This poem is about collecting together the old train tickets, messages, and even photos, which are sometimes found in books that are bought at charity shops. Though I certainly do not keep things that aren’t mine, my poem here aims to hint at the notion that by putting each of these things in a time capsule one could hypothetically preserve the existence of strangers (who have floated into an out of one’s life) for years. I contributed this poem to Leeds Wellbeing Web, because I felt the above notion was an interesting concept.

Finding a voice

A series of upcoming presentations found me feeling somewhat apprehensive, they’re not my ‘thing’. If the topic I have to discuss is something I’m not enthusiastic about, I also find presenting it nerve racking. I strongly dislike feigning enthusiasm for something my ‘heart’ isn’t in, If I’m obliged to do it, I suffer physically with anything from headaches, to an upset stomach.

With the hope of learning a few tips on how to ‘act as if’, the topic was the ‘best thing since sliced bread’ I signed up for a voice workshop.

I didn’t have the expectation that one or two lessons could help me completely overcome my reticence, or that I’d become an actress overnight. The class teacher however was an actress and an experienced voice coach, who gave me just the right amount of complimentary and encouraging feedback. She thought my existing use of voice and body was effective for the task.

.’Have you ever done ballet? she asked, as I performed a particular arm movement, part of the warm up routine for the workshop. It possibly being 50 years since I’d done a demi-seconde or an en avant, and now being more of a sugar plump, than sugar plum fairy! ……..I thought she was just trying to be kind, she told me however, that many people, including herself, found the arm positioning didn’t come naturally. I can’t say her compliment had me thinking……. ‘I’ve possibly a latter day career as a ballerina in the offing’, but the amusing thought did cheer me up.

Whereas I care less these days as to what people might think about my appearance, it is still a morale boost if someone pays a sincere compliment.

Having done the preliminary warm-up stretches, the teacher wanted me read some set pieces aloud. As an aid to finding good breath control while reading, she first asked me to do what she described as breathing ‘movements’. I found the idea of breath work being movements, preferable to some breathing exercises I’ve previously experienced at similar workshops, where having been directed to breath ‘properly’, I’ve held my breath a bit longer than advisable!

One of the readings was a poem, and though the location of the workshops was in a leafy laned, backwater of LS6, the poem transported me via sea-going vessels to more exotic climes, and to returning home again through the choppy waters of the English Channel.

Here it is,,,,,,

‘Cargoes‘ by John Masefield