Sunday 29 June 2014

Meditating Play


I love these big bowl swings. I find my inner child coming out to play whenever I'm near one: there's nothing like sitting in the swing, and the feeling of swaying back and forth through the air. Today we went to the park for a play, and opportunistically, I gave a guided meditation.
Being comfortable, lying in the swing, and being aware of the feeling of the pull of the earth as the swing sways back and forth. The body being pulled down and up as the swing moves. Breathing easily and slowly, in time to the sway. Closing the eyes, to really experience the feelings of movement; and that barely perceptable pause before the swing moves in the opposite direction. Each sway is a moment in time. Experience that present moment, before it's gone and replaced by the next. Like a clock ticking: tick...tock...
Each moment is different to the next. Each sway is slightly slower, slightly shorter. A fraction of time slower. As the swing continues swaying, so the present is ever changing, so the moment is different. Focusing on each moment. Each sway leaves a greater feeling of calm, of peace. Relaxing into the seat. A constant change. A constant movement, whilst the body stays still, the mind is quiet. Feeling the body react to each sway, slowing down...slower...slower...almost still. Quietly resting, a tiny movement in the swing. Calm, slow breaths, calm, quiet mind. Peace. Being held in the air, supported by the swing as it gently moves in the breeze. Quietly resting in body and mind, feeling calm and peaceful. Happy.

Friday 27 June 2014

Mindful students

Today I have been doing mindful activities with students at both Swanage Primary and The Swanage School.

This morning I met with reception children. We did a range of activities, from imagining blowing up balloons and watching as they floated away, eating strawberries mindfully, to lying down for a beach meditation. It was really interesting to hear their thoughts about what they were eating. They used each of their senses to engage completely in the process, which came to them happily and naturally, without any awkwardness. They talked about how the strawberry had started off as a seed, explained to each other how the seed grew and that there was no such thing as a strawberry tree, and how the rain and the sunshine had helped the strawberry to grow.

When they chose a strawberry to eat, I asked them to feel the texture, weight and shape. Then they used their sense of smell to identify what sort of aroma they picked out ("sweet-smelling"), before licking it, which they found most amusing! Next, rather than taking a big bite out of the strawberry, I asked them to take a tiny nibble and let the flavours move around the taste buds, so that they could identify any different flavours ("tangy", "bubbly"). I asked them to close their eyes to find out if the flavour changed ("stronger").
They all enjoyed this activity. I wondered if they would have been as happy to try doing the same with a piece of food they didn't like or had never tasted, before. Perhaps that's one for another day!

We moved on to some quiet time for a beach meditation. I was taught not to expect young children to lie still, but to allow them to move and wriggle around if they needed to. I was happy for them to do this, although it does feel a bit counter-intuitive! However, despite the wriggling and the fact that most of them kept their eyes open (not a problem) they did lie quietly. We visualised a special pebble which each of them put in their pocket, and then they got up and did a bit of grounding exercise before heading off to lunch. With an extra strawberry as a treat, of course! I thoroughly enjoyed working alongside the children, and felt privileged to do so.

This afternoon I did some mindfulness work with older students. This time it wasn't bread-making, but working with "Zentangle". I asked the students to come up with an intention before they started, and to think about their intentions as they doodled.

It was quite a challenge for them I think, but that's good. My intention for the session was for them to do something that would take a lot of patience and to persist, even if they found it difficult. To realise it doesn't matter about the mistakes, but to carry on regardless of whether it is "perfect" or not. I am sure they were proud of their efforts!

If you would like to book me for some sessions at your school, please get in touch at innerspaceproject1@gmail.com


Saturday 21 June 2014

Solstice


Here in the northern hemisphere, we are celebrating midsummer's day. It has been a beautiful day, with the sun blessing us with its warmth and energy. I have been busy for most of the day, rather than making the most of the lovely weather, but I have been reflecting on my life, looking back at the months since the winter solstice.
The photo above was taken at 10.30pm, just as dusk gave way to the creeping darkness as it slowly swept the sky clear of any remaining light. I went for a walk, and came across several bats as they began their nightly routine. The air was warm with a light breeze, and there were aromas of heady evening floral scents. I finished on the beach, and went for a paddle. The water was cool and refreshing, the waves were quiet and gentle. Just what was needed for me, this evening.

Thinking back to the winter solstice, my new year's resolution was to stand out of my comfort zone. I think I have achieved this - although there is room for a lot more shuffling! Personally, I have gone beyond my comfortable limits frequently since January this year, and don't intend to stop, now. Today I decided to add in a new intention for each week until the winter solstice, in order to continue to grow and evolve.

But for now, happy midsummer's day, or if you are in the southern hemisphere, happy midwinter's day!

Wednesday 18 June 2014

Baking Bread - mindfully



Yesterday, I went to The Swanage School, where I did some mindfulness work with two students. I taught them to make bread.

For me, making bread is full of symbolism and meaning. It is a process of transition and constant change. It involves constant attention, requires physical strength, and needs endless patience in order for the bread to evolve and "bloom".

The students I was with yesterday began by feeling fairly unsure of what they were about to do. Neither of them were really sure about what was going to be involved, but they got stuck in, anyway. As they began to mix the flour and yeast mixture together with their hands, I could see they were getting into it. They wanted to succeed, even though they had some doubts about their ability. Neither of them had ever made bread, before. I asked the students to really focus on the sensations, and use their senses to fully appreciate their efforts. Thoughts and feelings were expressed throughout. :)

As they left their trays of dough to prove in the lunchtime sunlight beaming through the windows, I saw how the students cared about their work. They wanted their efforts to succeed. When they returned 45 minutes later to enormous balls of dough, they were amazed. Then came the bit they had been waiting for: beating the air out of their dough. Taking out their frustrations, before moulding it into the shape they wanted their loaves to be, before placing back on the windowsill to rise.

When they returned later to collect their huge golden loaves from the food-tech room, full of the delicious aroma of freshly-baked bread which had just come out of the oven, they couldn't believe their eyes! The expressions on their faces were of pride, amazement, and happiness. They had gone through the whole process from start to finish using mindfulness, and achieved something wonderful out of it, at the end.

Achieving something wonderful in mindfulness or meditation terms, can take any physical form, but using mindfulness in our activities also brings about an inner form, in the shape of happiness, calm, pride, satisfaction, or more besides. But it also creates the moment of just being. Being present in each moment and fully experiencing what our bodies and our minds are creating: a sense of inner peace.




Sunday 1 June 2014

Cast Light On Your Shadows



Last summer, whilst out running in the woods, I headed towards a path I tend to feel wary of. It was a gloriously warm summer morning, and as I ran along the sunlit-dappled path, I became mindful of looking out for Adders. Now I used to be terrified of snakes as a child; and even as an adult, I’m really not that fond of them. 
Despite my fear and dislike, I have never seen a snake anywhere other than behind a plate of glass at the zoo: a sanitised, safe environment – perhaps not so much for my benefit – as for the snakes themselves.

I reflected upon this as I left the woods and entered an open space, that the fear I have of meeting a snake on my own well-travelled path, has little basis. Why must I place the emotion of fear into a situation I have never encountered, and may never face? Surely it would be better to experience the fear and react accordingly if need be?

As much as I love being amongst woodland, I do tend to run a bit faster in the areas where I am likely to encounter an Adder. This might knock a couple of seconds off my time, but if I run too fast, I may miss the beauty all around me - even that of the adder itself.

To confront a fear allows us to learn something deeper about ourselves. If we permit the fear to control our decisions on, say, which paths to take in our life, we restrict our choices, and may inhibit our own growth. Although it might feel easier to avoid anything scary or unknown in order to protect and preserve – to sanitise – our comfort zones, these seemingly easy decisions can prevent us from learning more about ourselves, and forming a deeper connection within.

By facing our fears, we can begin to open up to what it is that has influenced our decisions and perceptions. If we fully experience our fear, we can then see the beauty of our deeper selves, learn as we conquer our fear, and evolve on a spiritual level.

So look for your own strength and courage in your heart, and allow the light within you to be the sun dappling upon your path less travelled. 

Enjoy The Moment

Photo: How often do you hear your children asking for a mobile phone/tablet/new trainers or other highly-desired items? How do you respond? Do you ever ask them to consider why they feel they "need" it, or to consider the difference between a want and a need? It could stem from a need to fit in with their peers, to be liked, and to be accepted by others, which are all vital to our sense of self. So if you are feeling the pressure but feel that they are too young or not yet able to take responsibility for these status symbols, how do you teach them to understand?
Each time I feel that my children are asking for something they don't need but want, in order to fulfil their sense of self, I remind them of an analogy I developed with them: see your life as being like a big, best quality chocolate bar, wrapped in shiny paper. You carefully take off the layer and look at the beautiful, complete bar of chocolate. Then you decide how you would like to eat it. Which would be better: to pick up the chocolate, bite into it and eat the whole lot, and then feel full, sick, and sad that it is all gone? Or enjoy a small square at a time, savouring each mouthful, experiencing it piece by piece and happily admiring the taste, smell, feel and sight? So do you want everything right now - to consume what you have - and then get to a point where you are left wanting more? Or would you like to enjoy your life piece by piece, moment by moment, taking in the scenery, sights, emotions, experiences and the beauty of life, savouring each moment and evolving into the person you are? 
At the age of 8 my daughter understood this, and although it is sometimes hard to accept the disappointment and the longing for something, there is plenty more to experience and enjoy in her life, so she is beginning to learn to make the most of what she currently has. My 5 year-old son is also beginning to grasp the concept, so it's never too young to learn!
Live in the moment, and enjoy each and every day!
Photo:Nikki Harman - Chocolate from Chococo, Swanage

How often do you hear your children asking for a mobile phone/tablet/new trainers or other highly-desired items? 

How do you respond? Do you ever ask them to consider why they feel they "need" it, or to consider the difference between a want and a need? It could stem from a need to fit in with their peers, to be liked, and to be accepted by others, which are all vital to our sense of self. So if you are feeling the pressure but feel that they are too young or not yet able to take responsibility for these status symbols, how do you teach them to understand?

Each time I feel that my children are asking for something they don't need but want, in order to fulfil their sense of self, I remind them of an analogy I developed with them: see your life as being like a big, best quality chocolate bar, wrapped in shiny paper. 
You carefully take off the layer and look at the beautiful, complete bar of chocolate. Then you decide how you would like to eat it. 
Which would be better: to pick up the chocolate, bite into it and eat the whole lot, and then feel full, sick, and sad that it is all gone? 
Or enjoy a small square at a time, savouring each mouthful, experiencing it piece by piece and happily admiring the taste, smell, feel and sight? 

So do you want everything right now - to consume what you have - and then get to a point where you are left wanting more? 
Or would you like to enjoy your life piece by piece, moment by moment, taking in the scenery, sights, emotions, experiences and the beauty of life, savouring each moment and evolving into the person you are?

Live in the moment, and enjoy each and every day!

Photo:Nikki Harman - Chocolate from Chococo, Swanage

How To Eat An Orange

You may think eating is a pretty simple activity, and on the surface, you'd be right. But I want to look beyond the surface, at what's beneath the obvious. Let's be honest: how often do you concentrate on what you're eating or drinking? How often do you stop to consider how that food you're popping into your mouth arrived there in the first place? How often do you really pay attention to what's happening to you as you're eating?

I, for one, don't spend every mouthful of food deeply thinking about it, or examining the sense's reactions to the food. I don't bless each morsel with gratitude, I don't think about how the food arrived on my plate; and I definitely don't always say a grace. If I did, surely my food will have cooled down, and not taste as good as it should have? I am, as many others are, guilty of one of the following on a regular basis:

  • eating whilst watching TV
  • eating whilst answering a text
  • eating whilst working on my laptop
  • eating whilst reading a book or writing notes
  • eating whilst walking around
I bet the majority of those reading this will be able to agree that they have done at least 2, if not all of those in the list above (and if you can do all at once, then you are multi-talented). Some of you will be able to agree that you do say a prayer or bless your food - but how many of you do so for every meal?

What do you think is the best approach? How does food make you feel? Do different types of food affect your mood or how you feel? What is your relationship with your food?  What sort of food do you eat on a daily basis? Do you cook it yourself, is it freshly prepared? Is it healthful? For those who are just about to skip to the next blog, wait! 

Please, stop and think for a moment. Because food is a huge part of every society, every culture, we depend on food to keep us going, at the very least, and to enrich ourselves and feel healthy, at best. Don't you think that something we as humans rely on so much for survival, something so crucial to our health, should get more attention when we prepare it, and eat it?

Today I'm going to give you an example. I teach this in my beginners mindfulness course. I love this exercise, because I see the reactions of those taking part in it. I love when the participants feed back to me the exact point of the exercise: it makes me feel that someone else is on my wavelength. I love it when those who look at me suspiciously when I present them with a plate of fruit - like I'm a little bit crazy - find the exercise has taught them something that they didn't really think about beforehand.

How do you eat an orange?

  • Do you cut it into wedges and suck them? 
  • Do you peel it and eat each segment? 
  • Do you halve it and squeeze out the juice?
  • Do you think about how that orange arrived in your kitchen?


My suggestion is that you get yourself an orange. Hold it in your hand, feeling the texture, the weight and the shape. Just be curious about who planted the orange tree. Where did it grow? How long do you think it took to grow? Who picked it when it was ripe?
Who packed it, and packaged it along with the rest of the crates to be shipped around the world? What was the journey on the ship like for those who work at sea to deliver goods around to different countries? Who drove the crates with your orange to the supermarkets, or delivered your vegbox to your door?

Who placed your orange on the shelf for you to see, and buy, or loaded your fruit box?

And now, here you are, holding your beautiful, precious orange, that which has been handled from seed to plate. Acknowledge all those who have had a part in giving you your moment of sustenance. What might the life story be of each person involved? Thank them for their part in providing you with food.

Begin to prepare the orange. As you do so, breathe in the zest, smell the sunshine and the rain and the air, soil and energy required to transform the orange seed into the fruit you are preparing, now.

Then, just before you place your first segment or wedge into your mouth, clear your mind and zone in completely on the experience of what you are doing. Concentrate as you bite into it. Taste it. What do you experience? What do you notice?

Continue to eat the orange, observing your senses as you do so, watching your thoughts and concentrating on what you are doing. When you have finished, sit quietly for a minute or two, just to reflect. What comes up for you?

You know when you've digested that orange, when all the vitamins and water have been carefully, chemically stored in your body, the waste of which is eliminated from your system and into the toilet (let's not get too graphic at this juncture), what happens to it? It goes back to the earth. Through your breath, through your skin, through your elimination systems, into the sewage, into the water, into the air, and back to earth.

Can you see, then, that we are all intrinsically connected? That person who planted the seed or operated the machinery (even the people who assembled machinery in the factory), to the person who took your money for the orange at the shop, has had a part in providing you with sustenance. By eating it, you take on the energy of this process, and by eliminating it, you provide the earth with sustenance. It's a two-way process.

When we eat, we are engaging in a big, symbiotic relationship with each other, the world; we are all doing it in a similar way for mutual benefit of ourselves and for earth, consciously or unconsciously.

I'm not suggesting that you treat every meal in this manner - who has time for that in their lives? - but to at least acknowledge the food you are about to eat, from seed to plate, and for the work you have put into being able to buy (or grow) yourself.

Give thanks - and enjoy every mouthful - for of course, you are what you eat.