Showing posts with label mindfulness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mindfulness. Show all posts

Pain, Overwhelm and Anxiety - it gets busy and it gets blurry.

 Overwhelm. I feel it often. I feel it hard. 

I have written about it before here. But, it wasn’t until I recently read a passage from Sarah Wilson's book “First, We Make the Beast Beautiful” that I began to wonder if this experience was actually something else. Anxiety. 

 

“When I’m anxious all my rushing, competing, frenzied thoughts are either a) plans or b) contingencies for what could happen. This me, as I currently am, is not good enough. A good life and the “right” me and the answers I seek are ahead in the future ….and I rush like buggery to get there.”

 

Overwhelm shows up for me like this too. I thought it was fuelled by stress. The more I lean into the discomfort of this feeling, examining it from within as its happening, my predominant thoughts are overactive planning. Thinking ahead, “if I just do this then….” or “If this goes wrong I will do this”….and on it goes. Always trying to plan for the perfect moment, the perfect life, waiting to be happy. At the time, this made sense to me. Living with chronic pain these past 35 years, oftentimes I will get swept away by unpredictable flare ups. Reason or no reason. Trying and not trying. Wanted (hang on, are they ever wanted?) or unwanted. They happen. Once they show up, my planning brain (attempts) to takes over. 

 

I call her Planning Patricia. You may recall I got to know her better on my recent silent retreat. She can really get me moving or more accurately, she gets me rushing and frenzied. Oh yes, that’s Patricia alright. She races to plug up every uncertain hole, cater for every possibility Be sure, be certain. But she desperately tries to do this in an ever-changing, unpredictable and messy life (in the full catastrophe as Jon Kabat Zinn calls it!). In this surge, it doesn’t take long before Patricia becomes overactive. She is making lists of lists, she’s cruelly demanding, come on you lazy slug, move it, there is SO much to do. There is a stabbing urgency (mostly self-imposed) forcing me to strive and prove and push myself. Any pain early warning signs were ignored and rammed down, I must keep going – there’s all this stuff that MUST be done. I must do more, be more, be better – in a relentless drive to prove I can (even when my body is now screaming to stop and that it bloody well can not!). 

 

When I am able to observe what is happening, honestly there is an “icky-ness” and unease that arises. My values are being threatened, hijacked. Patience, kindness, awareness and love. The non-stop tasks suffocate these out from me. I don’t know where to begin, so often I get to the point of overwhelm. I freeze and procrastinate or I crash and cry. But when I read that quote above, I felt the need to explore a little deeper. I started by looking back a step. What is Patricia planning and why?? Is she seeking control, certainty? What is she trying to prove, to achieve?

 



Let me explain with a recent experience. I went for a job. It sounded interesting but there was some lingering doubt. I got an interview then offered the job. I baulked. I fretted. I wrote up a list of pros and cons. This new opportunity would definitely expand my skills, as it was in a field I had not worked in before. But I stopped and asked myself – why? Why do I need to do this? Why do I feel like I still need to be better, more, fixed, larger? Despite all the work I have been doing recently building self-awareness, self-love and I was surprised to realise it came back to this same thing. Boom, straight to this familiar space, a familiar old program loop.

 

“I am not good enough.” The quiet voice said. I still think this, deep down. 

 

So maybe that’s anxiety. 

Maybe that is stress.

Either way – the more important question is - what do I do when I get in one of these states?

 

Recognise. The work I do when I am calm helps me recognise the early warning signs of excessive planning. Just simple observing and labelling the emotional state. Oh, here is overwhelm. Oh, here is Patricia getting herself in a tizz again. 

 

Right here, right now. Planning flings me into future based thought so I need to get mindful, connect with the present moment. Here. Now. Accept my current state. She might be a bit weather-beaten but she is not broken, she is enough. Another few helpful ways I have found to snap myself back into the present are walking in nature, playing with my essential oils, having a bath, formal meditation. 

 

Dropping “and then…” Often, when Patricia is doing her gung-ho thing, I am on auto-pilot, oblivious to my present moment actions because I am so caught up planning the next thing. And the next thing. And the next thing. So, here is a recent hack that I have figured out to disrupt this process. I drop the additional thought of “and then...” I just decide on the next best thing and do it, and be aware I am doing it. As opposed to continuing to plan what will happen next, and then next. Simply dropping “and then…” is enough to give pause, and be aware of my experience. Don’t worry what I will do next, just be with the current activity. 

 

Let it go. So easy to say, so hard to do. In the past, when things get frazzled, I would often ask for help. Change my plans, adapt. But reflecting on it, this is just still Patricia trying to plan her way out of the pain. She is frantically rearranging the plans so I can still attempt to do it all. Handball a few jobs, rest for a bit but I always come back to the list. So, when I am feeling this way, I need to tell Patricia to sit down and shut the hell up. Let it go. Trust it will be okay.  Allow and let it be. 

 

In writing this blogpost, I became interested to know if there is a link between chronic pain and anxiety. It would make sense because if we can’t control pain then there’s a good chance we try to control everything else, right?

– And it only took a quick bit of googling to find that yes, anxiety (and depression which often occurs at the opposite end of the spectrum) frequently co-exist with pain. 

https://www.health.harvard.edu/healthbeat/the-pain-anxiety-depression-connection

https://www.apmaugusta.com/blog/anxiety-in-relation-to-chronic-pain

 

What are your thoughts?

Two helpful insights from my silent retreat experience

 

A few weeks ago, I participated in my first ever 7-day silent retreat. It was an extraordinary journey of self-discovery. The space and time and freedom from daily commitments allowed me to lean into some challenging thoughts I had been actively pushing hard against (resisting!), reconnect with spaces from deep within my past and to release long-help beliefs that no longer serve (such as the relentless pursuit of achievement), and also loads of aching for my loved ones at home. 

 

Non-identifying


‘sadness is here’

‘fear is hear’

‘overwhelm is here’

 

This is the technique of non-identifying with thoughts and experiences. When strong emotions are present, I may have told myself, “I am sad, I am scared, I am overwhelmed.” I had believed these phrases brought enough space between me (who I am as a person) and the feelings. I had already understood this to be a step up from thoughts from my past of this was a step up from previous thoughts of “I am a sad person…etc.”). On this retreat I was supported to identify how these thoughts can feel intensely real, often provoking a visceral response (churning stomach, frowning, headache). Sitting with these feelings for longer periods enabled me to eventually experience their impermanent nature. These are just feelings being experienced in the moment. Just a part of the ever-changing, always growing person I am. They do not solely define me. Knowing this offered a sense of relief, a little bit of hope, and even comfort. I am also more aware how these feelings can relate to past causes, conditions and experiences and the heaviness of past hurts and memories arising. Blending stories into my present moment experience can intensify the emotion. As I work to deepen my practice, I can feel myself become more attuned to identify these feelings, to take that step back and recognise them for what they are. I do not need to get carried away by them, I can just gently look beyond these feelings with some helpful guiding questions. 

‘What else is here right now?’ 

‘Can I experience this and not suffer?’ 

These questions helped me to uncover a sense that my suffering originated from wanting the situation to be different to what it is. For example, I noticed feeling fidgety in longer meditation sits. I began asking myself ‘can I feel restless without suffering?’ Yes, slowly I came to figure out how. I let go of the desire to be constantly still (a preconceived idea of “master meditator”) and listened to my body. I gave myself permission to move and find a sense of ease, relief. I let go of the struggle and accepted how I was feeling. I even opened my eyes and spent spacious and empowering moments noticing what else was also breathing around me. 


In discovering this, I also thought of my children. Oftentimes they can have low moments, when emotions are high. They might say they are sad, angry, feel like they don’t belong. Of course, I want to jump straight in and take away their suffering. But in that moment, just like me, they need to know (and I need to remember), this is a passing feeling, just a part of them. It does not define them. It is not their identify. Railing against their reality is only going to initiate my own threat system (argh, stress is here!) and perhaps intensify theirs. And it also gave me insight that what comes out of their mouth in the heat of the moment, is not to be taken personally. (Perhaps also another interesting reminder also for when my own critical mind is screaming to be heard. 


To think in terms of either pessimism or optimism 

oversimplifies the truth. 

The problem is to see reality as it is.

-Thích Nhất Hạnh

 


Getting familiar with the familiar

Did you know, on average people have 12,000 to 60,000 thoughts a day? And many of them we have had before. Many are filtered through our strong prehistoric protective negativity bias. Some thoughts sound like a broken record, repeating again and again. On retreat, in silence, I had an opportunity to notice some of these. I brought a playfulness to it giving some of my thoughts names and identities. Meet the gang:

Perfect Prue. This is the voice of my inner critic. She’s a real bitch with her icy, nasty comments about how I am inferior, don’t belong, not good enough. You get the idea. She sneaks into my mind unannounced, sets up camp, constantly poking with her hurtful barbs. 

Planning Patricia. She pops up with a notepad, pen poised to get things in order for possible future events. Often, I was sitting in meditation and planning what I would do once it had ended, or how I might guide a meditation in a possible future course, or what I might say on the oft chance I meet some famous wisdom guru. Patricia’s voice was the one that was loudest. And I realised this makes sense. Maybe she originated to counterbalance the uncertainty that pain can bring (desperately clinging to an element of control when things feel ferociously disorderly. She’s is trying to protect me from the unknown. To be prepared! On retreat, her voice would quieten if I actually gave myself space and time to rest, to feel, to listen. All the buzzing activity of day-to-day life has enabled this planning mind to become overactive. 

Playful Petuna. Well, this one I liked a lot. She was the whimsical one who liked to create mischief and remind me not to take the world too seriously. Her suggestions are the ones that might break with convention or allow me to step out of the shackles of worrying what people might think. She likes to get all Richard Branson and has the catch cry, “screw it, just do it”. 

Soothing Suzy. She’s quite a reluctant voice (maybe because of frequently being ignored or dismissed) but, on retreat, she found her voice. She would encourage me to place a hand over my heart. She suggested opting for self care and for being over doing. She has helped me calm Patricia and Prue with kindness. 

And I am sure there are many other common voices that I have not yet discovered. Getting to know some of these common thoughts also helped to bring a bit of non-identifying as well. I am not Patricia, or Prue or Petunia or Suzy. These are just parts of me, arising and passing away, always changing. Getting to know them, allowing them to be here has helped me soften towards them and maybe, just maybe, these voiced don’t need to shout so loud anymore. I don’t need to latch on and jump to their every command. When I chose to arrive, home, here, now, there’s room for all. 

 

“The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in. – Rumi

Default thoughts – Is this the final puzzle piece?


You know that feeling you get when you are doing a jigsaw puzzle? At the start, it’s overwhelming. You look from the complete picture on the box’s cover to the 100s, 1000s of jumbled pieces and it looks impossible. But then you follow the process. Find the edges and corners, some distinctive pieces and slowly it comes together. Then more pieces are in place, suddenly you think “hang on, this is starting to look like something.” You see some fully formed parts. The number of unmatched pieces is decreasing. Then you get the smug realisation and joyful feeling - “Hey, I’m getting it, I’m so close!” Often, there is just a single piece that, once found, makes everything else just fall into place. Complete, whole, a masterpiece.

 

The first corner I found in my jigsaw was when I attended the pain management course in 2009. I learnt there are common reactions and thoughts around pain. I became aware of my thoughts. I was not yet able to change them, but I took notice. My thoughts were pretty similar to everyone else’s. They were thoughts like this:

·      I can’t handle this anymore

·      Why me?

·      I am letting everyone down

They might have started small, innocuous, but they could quickly snowball. Not nice, not helpful and most importantly, these thoughts contributed to and exacerbated my pain. 

 

More edge pieces have since clicked into place:

 

-       We are hard-wired to the negative and we have many of the same negative thoughts on repeat. This came through on my two Breathworks retreats and through attending a Mindfulness Based Stress Reduction (MBSR) course. I do wonder if knowing about negativity bias has, in some respects, given me permission to have these thoughts and kept me in the caustic hold of their repetitive loop. 

-       Being mindful works! Gaining knowledge is one thing; doing something about it is different. Any time I put effort into regular mindfulness practice, I would see the benefits in my daily life – reduction in stress, more present moment joyful experiences and better management of my pain. 

 

Then, in the past few days I have been on the edge of that exhilarating feeling - finding the crucial last pieces. 

 

These big ah-ha moments have come in two parts:

 

PUNISH, REPEAT

This week, I was listening to a podcast by Mike Robbins where he explains a process for dealing with emotions… 1. Recognise, 2. Acknowledge, 3. Forgive, 4. Change. It doesn’t make for an easy to remember acronym, but he went on to explain that he was okay with the first two steps, but then he would 3. Punish and 4. Repeat. Oof. Dagger to the heart. This is what I do. Often. Why? I beat myself up with criticism such as “I should know better”, “why am I here again in this hole?”, “You idiot.” I have some work to do. I must go beyond just recognising this pattern, to not just build up the self love, self compassion and other mindful tools to help with this process because awareness has not yet stopped it from happening. 

 

DUPE THE LOOP

Ruminating on the “4. Repeat” part of this equation, I started listening to another podcast. It could not have come at a more opportune time. It was a quick one, full of nuggets from Joe Dispenza. Listening, I felt a zap of energy – time may have even stood still for a moment. Hang on, did I just hear that missing piece? 

 

I have identified I am in this looping cycle of negativity. Despite knowing about it, the cycle continues preventing me from reaching those final steps 3 and 4 (forgiveness and change). These thoughts are negative, repetitive and – they are a program. A program looping throughout my long history living with pain (and we are talking 30+ years!). It runs automatically. It is the default. In fact, my brain thinks it is being helpful. Let’s run her program, put her auto-pilot. It’s the path of least resistance, so let’s run it again. And again and again.

 

The program has been running successfully. Look, there she is, back in her bed. Ugly-crying and wishing things were different. Again. Back in familiar territory. She’s safe there in her cocoon of shame. That’s cool. The brain celebrates the win. Repeat. 

 

Each time I find more pieces of the puzzle, figure something out or try something new, notice my thoughts, maybe make new choices, my brain thinks “Hang on a minute. This ain’t the program. Abort. Stop her, this isn’t scripted! Danger, abort! So in comes doubt to knock me over. Fear joins in. Then, in comes the kicker – pain, my old friend! Result: It’s all too hard, I give up. Negative thoughts run through the program – I can’t handle this, I am letting everyone down, why me!?… Welcome home. Full circle. Back into the cocoon I go.

 

So, my current conundrum is how to stop the program. Surely it is based in the awareness, mindfulness, compassion – I know these tools. I can use these tools. And now, I have a much clearer understanding of the process. It’s time for me to dupe the loop!

 

I have another tool too, something recently grabbed from ‘Mindfulness on the Run: Quick, effective mindfulness techniques for busy people’ by Chantal Hofstee. When elements of the default program prop up, I plan to notice. I will respectfully acknowledge and say to myself: “Hello fear, Hello doubt. You are here. It makes sense that you are here because I am changing the default program that you have been running my whole life. Don’t worry, I’m running a new program now. That will feel hard for you at first but it’s okay, I can handle this.”

 

Do you know what your default program is? How long has it been running? Can you notice it? Change it? 

Bring in the light - the rollercoaster of "knowing" my pain

I have had some time to reflect on my very long history with my chronic pain. From diagnosis to the present, it is well over 30 years. Of course, there have been many ups and downs along the way. There have been times when I have known something for certain only to later form another viewpoint. Sometimes it comes with education, sometimes via support from my community and sometimes from looking internally. Learning, re-learning and starting over.

Building this knowledge has been a rollercoaster of emotions and lessons.

At the bottom of the rollercoaster (AKA Darkest Days): Pain was like being trapped in a dark tunnel. No light, no fresh air, no happiness, no escape. When I was in pain, I would withdraw to this dark place accompanied only by my disturbed headspace of negative thoughts, blaming myself for past mistakes or worrying about the future. I accepted these thoughts as facts and could see no path towards the light. I was drowning in this depressive blackness. I was so caught up in my own pain, physical and emotional, it was very hard to see anything beyond the darkness. I was blinded to the impact I was having on others, selfish and unaware of anyone but myself. But the problem was, even though I felt isolated and alone, looking back, I had taken my loved ones down into that dark place with me.  

Gaining momentum (AKA Welcome to Pain Science 101): Attending the self pain management course in 2009 was a big turning point for me. I learnt many tools and skills to change my approach to pain. I learnt pacing, was introduced to mindfulness and I became aware of how much my mindset influenced my experience. I put these learnings into action and, for the most part, proceeded to live well with chronic pain. 

Sharp dips (AKA Re-Learning): In early 2019, I completed a half marathon, but a few months later a flare up came and stayed. My ability to manage my pain shifted. I fell into past habits, I became trapped by fear again. Add in a global pandemic and last year felt very hard. I found myself snowballing once again. All that information I thought I "knew", it went out the window - I forgot it all. This was me, a person who had for many years professed live well and #SelfManageChronicPain. Was I though? Really? Managing? So, back to the drawing board I went. 

More realisations (AKA Feel to Heal): I knew I needed some help. A lifestyle based exercise and education program materialised just when I needed it. Through this process, I have recently been examining many parts of my inner world, asking myself questions about my pain, my future, examining my values and purpose.  Much of this work revolves around the question - how will I get through this? What changes do I need to make? I have been pausing, pulling back from distractions to turn inwards...I am getting closer to the answer. And these days, I am saying to myself less of the "I know..." and more of the "I feel...". 

The rush (AKA The Secret? Maybe?): When you are on a rollercoaster and it is grinding, clanking and slowly creeping towards the top, you know what is coming. Your pace quickens, a sharp intake of breath. It is equally scary and thrilling. The anticipation. I feel like I am right there, on the cusp. The exhilaration of the rush downwards is right there in my grasp. I feel like I am so close. 

What has made me feel this way?

  1. Working out what I want. I have always been very focused on pain. Pain as a measurement tool, Pain as a trigger, Pain as a reason. That feeling of being in that dark place - that was definitely to be avoided. So often my goals, my plans, my dreams involved some aspect of avoidance. I even used it as a motivating factor in the early days - my "WHY" was clear - "no more darkest days". No more being at the bottom of the rollercoaster - or falling in that hole in the road (this is a gloriously pertinent poem by Portia Nelson). Recently, my life coach (quick shout out to the amazing Anna Baylis) asked me to flip the wording - focus on what I DO want. And my answer came quickly. A while ago, we went on a family bushwalk to a local (secret!) waterfall. I was very mindful on the walk, stopping to examine with awe the wonders of the natural environment, totally engaged in the company of my husband and kids, revelling and lingering in the joy of the experience. Pain was there too, just a physical feeling in my body. This is it. This is what I want. More waterfall days!
  2. Working out who I am. My twisted, metal-shackled spine is a part of who I am. My challenges, my pain, all a part of what makes me uniquely and imperfectly perfect. While I understood the importance of acceptance, I have only recently come closer to this crucial realisation. To truly accept and love myself, means accepting and loving all parts of me. My pain is not something to be managed, tamed, compartmentalised. I need to finally, really listen to what my body is telling me. What is my pain trying to tell me? I am coming to realise, it is this -  Connection, Compassion - loving all of me, as I am, in this moment. 
  3. Working out what needs to go. A few more blog posts to follow on this topic. Just as a butterfly sheds its cocoon to transform, there are a few parts of the old me that need to go. Break up letters will need to be written. But, as a heads up, "achievement", "doing" and "control", you have been warned - you are in my cross hairs. To truly soar, I need to welcome in kindness, patience, love and awareness. 




So, there you have it, I have summarised my 30+ year history with pain into one rollercoaster of a ride!

And, I am not done yet - #AlwaysLearning



Celebrating the small wins

We are hardwired to focus on the negative. It’s a prehistoric adaptation to be on the look out for danger. But this constant negativity is no longer necessary and only reinforces bad habits, unhelpful and unresourceful thoughts and behaviour. It’s like Rick Hanson, psychologist and best-selling author of Hardwiring Happiness says "the brain is like Velcro for negative experiences, but Teflon for positive ones." 

 

Unless we bring mindful awareness.

 

My new life coach is encouraging me to celebrate small wins.

 

So, I am making a list of ways I can celebrate small wins. The little things I might do well, make a strong choice or just, make it through a day. And to be honest, in what seems a never-ending Melbourne lockdown, some days this feels like an achievement worthy of celebrating. Making this list and sticking it up beside my bed means when I a can be more aware of these small wins then I can celebrate them and reinforce that I am doing well, I am worthy, I am making progress, and getting stronger. And just like I have found with gratitude practice, when you are on the lookout for things, you find them. This is a way of noticing what I am doing well, what I am choosing to focus on, and saying to myself, well done, good on you, pat yourself on the back, look at you go girlfriend. And that makes me feel good. 

 

Here is my list!

 

Note:  I made a conscious effort to try and NOT include ones that were focuses on food/drinking/online purchase – three of my lockdown vices that I want to curtail!


·      Tell someone. I fear we never want to come across as bragging but we probably all have that close friend or family member who would whoop with delight when we tell them about a small win. 

·      Buy myself flowers, or another indoor plant (do I need another? - ummm. Yes, of course I do! Remember they purify the air?) and I do love watching as a new plant settles in and starts to spout new leaves. 

·      Have a bath/spa/massage (when available!!)

·      Read a book (or even buy a book...I can easily convince myself that buying books is good for the local economy and has been a go-to lockdown luxury online purchase!!)

·      Go for a walk – getting out in nature has so many benefits – and if you don’t believe me, check out this awesome new docu-series on ABC #BackToNatureAU

·      Plan our next holiday (we have done this and had them rearranged a few times in the past 2 years!!)

·      Put on some gorgeous essential oils – on my body, in the diffuser, in a candle – breath in the love!

·      Go out for a nice meal/coffee w family/friends (explore the takeaway options when in lockdown!) ...adding this as this can still be healthy!!!

·      Something with music – maybe it’s a little wiggle or shake, maybe belting out a song I enjoy. Here is my most recent fire up fave (Me Too by Meghan Trainor)





 

Through this process, I have also set an intention to "cut myself a break" and focus on building my self-esteem and speaking more kindly to myself, and a big part of this is honestly evaluating my own significance and achievements. But more on that next time. 

 

How do you celebrate when you do something well?

Writing mindfully


Mindfulness is awareness that arises through paying attention, on purpose, in the present moment, non-judgementally,” says Jon Kabat-Zinn, the founder of the Mindfulness Based Stress Reduction.
 
Mindfulness found me when I really needed it. 
 
I ruminated over the past and feared an uncertain future. I did anything to avoid the pain that relentlessly haunted me. I felt out of control – a tiny dingy bobbing on a stormy sea. 
 
For years, I sought magic pills or cure-alls from doctors, clinicians and mystics begging them to permanently remove my pain. I was desperate. When I finally tried mindfulness, I was beginning to accept that pain was a part of my life and one that I had to manage. Mindfulness helped me turn towards my pain - with compassion. It provided me with a useful tool to incorporate into my daily life. 
 
During the Melbourne Covid-19 lockdowns in 2020, sitting beside my remote-learning children, I began writing a novel. I had no idea what I was doing but the words flowed and I rushed to capture them. It seemed natural to have a main character who was learning mindfulness. Write what you know, right?

Writing my main character, Bea, was cathartic. She inadvertently became sprinkled with aspects of my experiences, quirks and challenges. As I wrote my crappy first drafts about Bea, who was learning mindfulness and as I continued my daily mindfulness practice, I slowly became a writer. Here’s how…


Marvelling in wonder
 
Mindfulness helps Bea become more aware of people, place, and her feelings. Her mentor guides her to concentrate on what she feels, what she sees. He introduces her to the Buddhist concept of ‘Beginner’s Mind’ – encouraging her to imagine she has never seen or felt certain experiences. Imagine you have never tasted a sultana and then you slowly explore the feel and sensations of it in your mouth. Imagine you have never seen an ant. Wouldn’t you marvel at their size and strength and speed? As a writer, I often need these present moment experiences to translate into my story. Describing the feel of a scratchy carpet under a character’s feet, the tangy smell of eucalypts, the slurp of soup from a spoon – you get the picture – and that’s the point, writers need to use words to help their readers transpose themselves into the story. We have all heard the advice, ‘show don’t tell’, and to do this, I turned to my mindfulness practice. In a place or situation, even behind the closed eyes of my imagination, I brought a beginner’s mind to languish in immersive present moment research. 
 
Start again 
 
Over the years, my mindfulness practice has been haphazard at best. But, like a loyal Labrador, my practice is forgiving, welcoming me back to start again the moment I turn my attention towards it. For a long time, my mindfulness mantra has been ‘start again.’ I made sure my protagonist Bea was taught this little gem by her mentor as well. When she starts meditating and notices she is worrying or ruminating, she starts again. In writing, there have been many opportunities for me to start again. New projects, new ideas, even in the middle of writing. When I completed the first draft, I sat back, sipped some prosecco, I was done, right? But I needed to start again – follow new directions, kill some darlings, play Tetris with the structure, and flesh out some grey, lifeless parts of the story. Mindfulness helped me start again - without over-thinking or judgement. 


The mindful pause
 
Bea is great at speaking and acting without thinking. She’s known for her impulsiveness in her family. Foot in mouth? The awkward moment? She excels at these. She often forgets to take the mindful pause to question, ‘Should I say that?’, ‘Should I do that?’ In writing, taking a mindful pause often helped me avoid writing thousands of words in the wrong direction. It helped prevent random Twitter rants that I would have regretted later. It helped me be more targeted, precise, changing a sentence full of verbal diarrhoea into perfect prose (well, not always).


Compassion for others
 
Mindfulness is very much pivoted towards expanding your perspective, embracing compassion for yourself and others. Bea leaps into the second part with abandon. She is known in her family as Little Miss Fix-It and has always been a helper, a people pleaser. But she finds out sometimes you just need to be there for someone, listen, offer compassion. By pivoting my focus beyond my own work, a door has opened to the writing community, to new stories, new friends (shoutout to those lovely #6amAusWriters). While my writing is mostly solidary, I discovered the community beyond my computer is amazing once I let them into my world. Writers at all stages share a common bond – the ability to listen, nod, smile and say “Yes, I know all about that.” The comfort in these words has been the difference between giving up and marching myself back to the chair for the next writing session. 
 
Body awareness 
 
‘What am I doing right now?’ Bea’s mentor asks this question to improve her awareness of present moment experiences. She finds the question on Post-It notes all over her house. When I began creating my story, it was easy to fall into the world of my characters. I could become so absorbed in my writing that time disappeared. When I get a good idea, I want to chase it down as fast as my fingers can keep up. But, living with chronic pain means I can’t sit for too long at the computer. Also, I will admit it, I can get caught up in the writerly world on Twitter. It may be a procrastination, a distraction, sometimes I can even convince myself it’s scholarly research. But, too long crouched over the phone is also a sure-fire recipe for pain. Then there is getting lost within the pages of a book. Reading has always been a joy for me. Since starting my novel, I have become extra voracious in my reading (it’s research!) Lost in literary worlds, I can sit awkwardly but, like neglected playdough, I am quick to stiffen. Mindful body awareness has helped me become a more productive writer (and reader and consumer of social media). I use a timer and Post-It notes - little reminders to stop and take a break. Like Bea, these reminders help enable me to call myself back to the present. Writing and reading mindfully, in short bursts, allows me to show up again the next day.  
 
Without judgment
 
When Bea learns mindfulness, she is intrigued by the ‘without judgement’ part of the definition. She knows this won’t be easy because she is a person (like me) who has battled for years with self-doubt and a confidence built on her volatile perception of what others might think. She is an expert at critically judging herself. Mindfulness allows me to leave judgement to the reader with an element of interpretation. This has also given me the freedom to share my work. After all, Andy Warhol said...
 “Don’t think about making art, just get it done. Let everyone else decide if it’s good or bad, whether they love it or hate it. While they are deciding, make even more art.”



The thief of joy
 
Bea learns mindfulness from a Buddhist who has been meditating for years and seems he has it all together, a guru. When she compares herself to him, she comes up drastically short. But we can't be instant experts. Recently on The First Time Podcast, author Leanne Halls gave advice to ‘take your time and not compare’. There is a perilously thin line between learning from others in the writing community and toppling down a rabbit hole of self-doubt and comparison. I have been known to selfishly wallow observing author launch parties, people winning competitions, lucky ducks securing representation and here is me, the newbie, all alone at her computer. Mindfulness has helped me shift away from comparison and towards equanimity. Sometimes I sit back, breathe, and acknowledge that ‘this is how it is.’ But, I also add two powerful words to complete this sentence, ‘right now.’ I can daydream about publication, but I am not there (yet), I am right here, in this moment. I need to be okay with that. I may not compare all the time btu I certainly am going to book into that next writer’s course, read that next writers craft book on or listen to another author interview podcast!
 
Flipping failure
 
I was very pleased to learn failure in mindfulness is a success. When Bea talks to her mentor after months of practice, she is worried she’s failing. But the gentle act of noticing is progress. When I did a whole eight-week course, the most common recognition from all participants was how much we failed and what that meant – nothing. Failing just meant we were busy, we were beginners, but we were noticing. Getting comfortable with failure in mindfulness was great practise for me as a writer. Beginning to write my novel has involved fear, disappointment and rejection. I know all about the slush pile and the statistics on how rare it can be to make it through to publication. Rejections have come quick and fast, but I will keep at it. If you are reading this article, it is because I have used mindfulness to help become accustomed to all the rejection letters that came before. 
 
Bea’s invitation to you
 
Years ago, when I sat to try my first meditation, I had no idea it would change my life. Mindfulness enabled me to live well with my chronic pain. Then mindfulness made another big change in my life. In writing Bea and in continuing my practice, I feel comfortable showing up, each day, pursuing my dream job – writing mindfully.  
 
As I said, Bea is a people pleaser, so, of course, she wants to help you too! How about you go for a walk and sit in the park and ‘just be’ for a few minutes? Drop into your senses observe, feel, listen. But don’t forget your phone/journal so you can incorporate it into your writing.  
 
Why not give it a try? 
·               Easy to start with guided meditation apps such as Calm, Headspace and Insight Timer.
·               Open Ground – delivering MBSR courses Australia-wide
·               Buddhism for mothers (okay, so not strictly mindfulness but it was this beautifully written book that was at the forefront of my journey into mindfulness practice)
·               Interview with Jon Kabat-Zinn