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Through the eyes of a child.

Mon, 29 Aug 2022 13:05:10 GMT

This year marks some big changes for my family, with my eldest born preparing to start primary school this September.

As he gallops towards the end of his pre-school era he is bursting with joy and excitement at the prospect of going to ‘big school’. He loves pre-school. He has made many friends and has had many life enhancing experiences over the past few years. Yet he shows no sadness or reluctance about moving forward to his next chapter, only pure innocent excitement, and enthusiasm.

I on the other hand can barely keep it together. I’m fearful and resistant of the formal structure of school and whether he will get lost among the school system, whether he will forget that he loves playing in the mud and climbing trees, whether his thirst for learning will be diminished by the education system and every other catastrophic thought I can come up with.

Without a second thought my little boy is practicing two of the nine pillars that mindfulness rests upon – acceptance and letting go (Jon Kabat- Zinn). His worldview has not yet been tainted by judgement or preconceived notions of what life ‘should’ or ‘could’ be like. Fortunately for him his experiences of injustice have not yet exceeded the refusal of another chocolate biscuit. His four-year-old mind trusts that it’s time to move on and he isn’t looking back.

Mindfulness helps us to stop and to experience what is real in this moment, the sights, sounds, smells, tastes and feelings.

My four-year-old does not have to practice this. He lives in the moment.

Unfortunately for us grownups it no longer come so naturally. We can become a little lost along the way and get tangled up in judgements and pre-conceived notions, worrying unnecessarily about things that have not happened yet and ruminating over the things that have.

By practicing acceptance and letting go we too can approach change with positivity and less hesitation.

‘A beginners mind’ is another pillar of mindfulness, this time learning directly from children. It is based upon the notion that by looking at something ‘as if it was the first time’ will enable us to see something without judgement. By practicing this we can see it for what it is, in that moment, and to accept it as it is.

Over the past couple of weeks I have felt my heart strings being tugged by this upcoming transition to big school. However my four-year-old has reminded me that we do not have to hold things so tight that we are afraid to let them go, and that letting things go allows for growth and transformation.

If a caterpillar refused to spin its cocoon, we would be deprived of the beautiful butterfly.

Through his eyes he has taught me that this change will be ok, he will be ok.

Mindful By Nature

Mindfulbynature (Imelda McQuaid) — Fri, 11 Jun 2021 21:15:48 GMT

Frequently Asked Questions. . .

What is Mindful By Nature?

Mindful By Nature combines mindfulness, nature and walking to create a triple dose of natural wellness for your mind, body and spirit. Embracing natural settings amplifies the benefits of mindful meditation. Mindful By nature strives to empower you to replace moments of chaos with moments of calm, by developing your wellness toolkit that you can access whenever you need.

What is mindfulness?

Mindfulness is consciously paying attention to the here and now. When being mindful you are choosing to place your attention on the present moment as opposed to thinking about the past or future. We spend a surprising amount of time thinking about the past, either ruminating over unpleasant events or reminiscing about the good times. Likewise, we can spend a lot of time thinking about the future, either fantasizing about the life we wish for or worrying about what awful things might happen. Looking back and forward like that can cause us a lot of unnecessary anxiety and stress. Ultimately, we can’t change what has already happened, however we can learn from it, and we can’t control what the future will hold although we can use the present to prepare for it and approach it from a place of calm.

Why is nature so important?

When you think about how you feel when you spend time in nature, you likely feel instantly much more relaxed and unburdened, as you are free from the attention seeking distractions of your home, classroom or office. Engaging our senses is a practice in being mindful. When in nature you are invited to engage your senses over and over again. . . by the birds singing, the colours of the plants and trees, the smell of the flowers and so on. As well as feeling instinctively at home in nature, spending time in nature can reduce feelings of anger, fear and stress. Every time you reduce your stress levels you are giving yourself the chance to deal with your next challenge much more calmly.

Why include walking?

Walking allows you to physically process emotions. You can use the tone of your mood to dictate the rhythm and speed of your walking. This may help you march out some anger or frustration. When those feelings wear off a bit, which they will if you walk for long enough, you can allow your pace of walk to slow down, in turn allowing your heart rate to reduce, allow the rhythm of your walk to reflect he rhythm of your breath. Walking has been used throughout the generations, by many, including some of the greatest thinkers, to help solve problems and induce creativity.

Who do you work with and what do you offer?

Mindful By Nature works with you, your school, college or businesses to embed wellness and wellbeing as part of your ethos. Wellness workshops and mindfulness courses are adapted to meet the needs and abilities of you, your group of students and staff team. The workshops and courses can be delivered as one-off development tools or integrated into your weekly or monthly offer to enhance the wellbeing of all.

How can people get in touch?

All contact details are on the website. You can email or pick up the phone. My passion is to develop a package of support, bespoke for your needs.

Nature. What's the big deal?

Mindfulbynature (Imelda McQuaid) — Wed, 12 May 2021 12:29:15 GMT

What’s the big deal about nature? In a word, EVERYTHING!

Connecting with nature is as fundamental to human health, well-being, spirit and survival as exercise and a healthy diet.

Growing up in the rolling hills of County Tyrone on a small farm, I didn’t know how fortunate I was until I left home to go to the big city. It never occurred to me how much there was to gain from stepping out of my front door to be confronted by endless miles of countryside until I was gone.

And it’s not just me, all of my siblings who moved away have the same conversations with those we left behind - “Do you know how lucky you are to live in these green spaces?” Clearly, they do, which is why they never left in the first place!

No matter what window of the house you look out of you see fields. My heart soars with delight, as well as slight pangs of jealousy, when I am there.

The truth is, no matter where we’ve come from, we all feel better when we are in nature. That’s because we instinctively know it is good for us.

It’s even ingrained in our language. How often do we head out to ‘blow the cobwebs away’ or describe someone as a ‘breath of fresh air’ ? What about ‘making hay while the sun shines’ or ‘weathering the storm’ ?

These are idioms most of us will be familiar with because they are so accurate. They conjure up a feeling to perfectly describe a situation, using the thing we are all familiar with – nature.

It’s science

Though we instinctively know nature is good for us and we are deeply connected, scientists have set to work on proving why and how.

Through my own experiences I know that being out in nature helped benefit my mental health. I have dabbled in anti-depressants, but only lasted five days. I couldn’t handle gritting my teeth constantly and the queasiness, while also still feeling sad and stressed.

As an escape from the stress, I got my shoes on and went out walking every day for a week, up and down hills, through fields and woods. I felt joyful, invigorated, and upbeat.

Of course, the challenges causing me sadness and stress still existed, and I was by no means skipping about like in a scene from The Sound of Music, but I was calmer and less reactive.

You may say it’s the physical exercise that really benefited me as opposed to the surroundings, and of course it is hugely beneficial, but I also believe it wouldn’t have had the same outcome if I had been stomping around the inner city.

Part of this is to do with the repeating patterns we see in nature, known as fractals , which are so much easier for us to understand than the harsh, jagged shapes of the buildings in suburbs, towns and cities, not to mention the noise pollution from the cars, sirens, construction work and whatever else. Apparently the grey, urban scenes can make us unhappier and more aggressive, while looking at natural fractal patterns can reduce stress by up to 60%. This includes clouds, flowers, trees, snowflakes, coast lines etc.

Scientist have also proven that simply spending time in nature, two hours per week to be precise, is good for our physical health whether we are active in it or sitting on a park bench enjoying the view – so you don’t have to sign up for a mountain trek or boot camp to benefit!

The sixth sense

Getting the most from nature isn’t just about what we see, but also what we touch, hear and feel.

We are constantly surrounded by noise, be it the washing machine, the fridge, central heating, TV, phones ringing or pinging. Overtime it becomes background noise, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t raising our stress levels unbeknownst to us.

Now we know the countryside isn’t always a quiet place, think sheep baaing, birds singing and trees rustling in the rain, but several studies have shown that people experiencing stress have experienced a reduction in cortisol levels and increased heart rate variability when exposed to sounds of nature, particularly bird song, water, and wind.

And then of course there’s the smells, the textures, the tastes associated with nature. All of which are as beneficial as our sights and sounds. Nature allows us to experience awe and wonder, feeding into our intuitive knowledge that nature is good for us. A little bit of what is perhaps our 6 ^th sense.

How much is enough?

The Government suggests we need to exercise for 30 minutes a day, five days a week, and eat five pieces of fruit or veg per day to maintain a healthy lifestyle.

If nature is as important as exercise and diet, how much nature is enough?

Richard Louv penned the excellent ‘Last Child In The Woods’ where he introduced the concept of ‘Nature Deficit Disorder’ , the belief that a lack of exposure to the outdoors is causing a wide range of behavioural problems among children.

He has also, along with others, come up with the concept of a nature pyramid. A bit like the eat well plate, but for nature. It shows a great insight to what we can strive for in terms of promoting and maintaining our holistic wellness.

So, nature, what’s the big deal? Like I said, EVERYTHING!

It’s no surprise that nature was the theme for this year’s Mental Health Awareness Week. Nature is never too far away. The smallest of green spaces will attract some form of wildlife and have a presence of bird song. Put your shoes on, leave your devices at home and go and explore. You’ll be amazed what you find and how you may feel during and afterwards.

You deserve it.

Faith may move mountains but mountains can also move us

Mindfulbynature (Imelda McQuaid) — Tue, 27 Apr 2021 11:13:29 GMT

New post coming soon

Sleep deprived and angry

Mindfulbynature (Imelda McQuaid) — Wed, 31 Mar 2021 07:48:50 GMT

Sleep, a healthy diet and exercise are said to be three of the key ingredients to prevent or reduce stress. But what if you can’t get adequate sleep?

Whether you are sleep deprived due to insomnia, finding it difficult to switch off because of work or homelife, or, like me, you have two children who take turns to wake up every other hour, a lack of sleep can affect your entire day.

The lethargy left over from the night before leaves you too tired to exercise (which you then beat yourself up about as you’re getting really behind in your 10k training plan) making you feel even more sluggish, and all you want to do is eat biscuits and toast to keep you going until evening where you face another sleepless night.

And then, the cycle begins again.

The good news is, sleep is simply an ingredient – you just need to find the right marinade to make it palatable.

Temporary insanity

I am sleep deprived because of my two adorable yet night-owl sons.

Some days (and nights) I feel like I am going insane.

A survey carried out by Silentnight found that parents lose an average 6 months sleep in the first 2 years of their child’s life. The NHS website suggests trying to recoup the debt by aiming for 2 extra hours sleep on weekend nights. I am way too tired to calculate how long it’ll take me to be debt free, but I know I’m in this for the long-haul.

To the untrained eye, my children are adorable, pleasant, joy-giving creatures. To me, they are of course all these things, but equally their night-warrior antics are the root cause of my self-perceived insanity.

In a sleep-deprived haze I even mooted the idea of putting them up for adoption, which their dad (whose quiet kindness never ceases to surprise me) said no.

To think that I even said that out loud is frightening. But that is exhaustion. The thoughts and feelings that can pass through your over-tired mind are scary.

It even led me to wonder whether there is a significant link between sleep deprivation and child abuse? My google search didn’t answer my query, however, I discovered that research carried out by Iowa State university revealed that:

“people who lose as little as 2 hours of sleep per night are angrier and less capable of adapting to frustrating situations”.

I can confirm this to be true for me. Add to this a toddler who isn’t getting enough sleep and fireworks will surely burst forth.

Lack of sleep can stir the most monstrous part of us from the deepest, darkest depths within and spew it out at whoever is nearby. Unfortunately for my toddler it is mostly at him, as he is the one dragging me out of bed at 5.30am every morning.

My inner sleep-deprived monster even succeeded in teaching him to swear on one of these early starts when he parroted back my angry profanity.

“Go down the f@@king stairs,” I growled as he persisted in waking me before the sun had come up.

To which he replied in his gentle, innocent voice, “Are these the f@@King stairs mummy?”.

A solid moment of parental failure, however it did give me a proper laugh-out-loud moment when I reflected on it later while shaking my head in shame and despair.

“It’s just a phase”

Everyone who has ever had a child will, at some point, be told ‘it’s just a phase’, which is absolutely true. What they (whoever they are) don’t tell you, is that it’s a phase that follows the last phase and precedes the next. . .

Accepting the fact that it is indeed ‘just a phase’ does not ease my tiredness or prevent me from reacting in ways I immediately regret, because my exhaustion has left me lacking the self-control to consider my responses.

Just like telling an insomniac to ‘go to bed later’ or a harassed business owner ‘it will work itself out’, it doesn’t help in the moments before or the moments after.

I don’t really want to give my children away and I can’t force them to sleep, so what can I do?

Self-Compassion

Self-compassion is showing the same kindness and understanding to yourself as you would to a good friend.

To practice self-compassion is to accept that being human means we are imperfect, susceptible to making mistakes and failing, and knowing that this is something shared by all humanity.

We are very good at reassuring our friends and family when they are in moments of self-doubt, so why can’t we do the same for ourselves?

Nb. Self-compassion is not to be confused with self-indulgence, ‘I’ve had a bad day therefore I can make myself feel better by eating all the biscuits’ – I’ve tried that, and it doesn’t work!

Meditation teaches us that everything is impermanent. Only this present moment exists.

This is the knowledge that can offer us solace when we are in our darkest depths.

I can’t always control my less than positive reactions to my child, but self-compassion offers me solace that the instance doesn’t define me or my future relationship with my child. As long as I can acknowledge my wrongdoing, apologise and make the ‘right effort’ to not repeat it, I am practicing self-compassion.

When we are born, we are conditioned to react blindly to all sensations whether they be positive or negative. Meditation teaches people to develop equanimity, meaning to examine the sensation dispassionately, not attaching any labels of good or bad and therefore not creating any further reactions, which would only create further suffering, but give rise to wisdom and insight.

I know that sleep deprived monster will continue to rear its ugly head . And I know that, whether it’s a phase or not, it’s not going to end any time soon.

Practicing self-compassion - forgiving myself for the things I do in the moment - will go a long way to relieve a huge part of the pressure I am placing on myself.

I am not yet wise, however I will continue to develop my understanding through my meditation practice, which will enable me to develop right thought, speech and action as detailed in the Buddha’s Eight fold path, which led him to enlightenment (read more here).

I will also seek sleep opportunities wherever I can; I will go for a walk or run even if I think I’m too tired and I will try my best to resist the biscuits.

So, while sleep, a healthy diet and exercise are most definitely three key ingredients to prevent or reduce stress, self-compassion is definitely the vessel in which it should marinade.

Here’s a self-compassion practice for you to try. Go on, be kind to yourself.

Where do you put your feelings?

Thu, 11 Mar 2021 16:48:38 GMT

“Pain, as much as we never want to feel it and want to do what we can to avoid it, is the way that we adjust to this new reality.”

These words really struck a chord with me. They are the words of Julia Samuel, who has worked with grieving people for over 30 years and was speaking at a ‘Death of a parent’ session at the Good Grief Festival. And as far as I was concerned, she could have been talking directly to me.

My dad upped and died, without any word of warning, less than a month before my first baby was due. My last conversation with my dad was just a little over 24 hours before his sudden departure. I wished him happy birthday and chatted about what dates he was coming to visit his newest grandchild. He was really looking forward to his trip from Ireland to the bright lights of Wigan and secretly delighted that - in his mind - I wouldn’t be festering alone with a cat in my old age. Just like him, I'd have a loyal child to keep me company!

It was the single biggest shock I've ever experienced in my life.

I battled with huge worry and guilt that my unborn child would be impacted by my grief, so I avoided it. I tried my best to stay in some kind of upbeat, positive state. I kept my body and mind busy walking up the infamous Billinge hill on a pretty much daily basis and pottered in the garden.

My only stand out memory from the time was how to keep my huge baby bump hidden from airport staff as I made the heart-breaking trip to be with my family in Ireland.

Looking back it was like a scene out of a sitcom. I put on as many layers as I could stretch over me and carried everything possible to disguise the bump, ready to throw out a 'how dare you insult me, I'm just fat' comment if anyone approached me. Although I think my red, puffy face was enough to scare anyone from coming near me.

Of course, while it was tinged with sadness, the arrival of my beautiful smiling baby boy was as joyful as I’d hoped. But what was to become of this suppressed grief?

Tangible pain to ease me into my new reality.

When baba arrived I began the excruciatingly painful breastfeeding journey. Anyone who says, 'you must not be doing it right if it hurts', I know you mean well but seriously, it really isn't helpful.

A midwife described it as toe curling and I couldn’t agree more. I remember there being lots of holding my breath and gritting of teeth required. I never once considered quitting though. I'm not unique in my breastfeeding experience but I have often reflected back on how and why I persevered when I wasn't particularly anti-formula.

I now know it was because it gave my emotional pain an outlet. The pain of breastfeeding was tangible, something real that I could understand and other people could relate too. With my baby safe and healthy I felt justified in expressing this pain – there were plenty of tears!

The excruciating pain didn’t last forever. Perhaps it lasted just long enough for me to adjust to my new reality, without having to face it head on?

Emotional rerun

There was no doubt in my mind that I would breastfeed my second baby as well, but just five days in I gave up. They were five of the most physically and emotionally distressing days of my life. I wanted to hand him back. I remember thinking I had appendicitis and secretly hoping I did so I could go into hospital and be looked after.

This time the pain of feeding my baby wasn’t simply an excuse to cry. It acted like an instant time machine, catapulting me back to my dad’s death, forcing me to relive the entire experience, as if watching a rerun of a highly emotive film.

I couldn’t stop focussing on everything that had followed my dad’s sudden death, from the call I received from my sister at 9.05am when she would normally be teaching her primary school kids, to the subsequent process of booking flights to Ireland, packing a bag – tasks that are so far removed from where your mind is after receiving such mind-boggling news.

No longer was I laughing at the ridiculousness of hiding my bump. The impatience of waiting on a plane, waiting on the hire car, waiting to get home to my family came rushing back. The anxiety about the house being full of people when I got home again churned my stomach, and worst of all, being totally gutted that I’d posted his birthday card late meaning he never received it.

I even started reliving the harmless comments from well-meaning people who said things like ‘well your baby will have a guardian angel to look over them now’ or ‘someone has to die for another to be born’. The latter of these comments is a corker. Way to go making me feel responsible for his death! And now, two years on, I was feeling this pain as if was yesterday.

Invisible pain

The physical pain I felt when trying to feed my second son Freddie stirred all the emotional pain it had helped me keep at bay when I fed Finn. Emotional pain, which grief ultimately is, may be invisible but is very real. Its lack of visibility can also cause it to be very lonely. So many kind people sent cards and flowers and expressed their sorrow in the immediate aftermath of my dad’s death, but it doesn’t take long before people never mention it again. It soon becomes like it never happened. But it lingers in and around you wherever you go, whatever you’re doing, whoever you’re with, but very often with no outlet.

Candice Pert, a neuropharmacologist, who seems to have been an incredible woman and scientist with regards studying the connection between our emotions and our bodies said that:

“The body is your subconscious mind. Our physical body can be changed by the emotions we experience”.

I’m no scientist or expert in any field but I can completely relate through my own experiences. It also explains why people can have such emotional responses to treatments such as reflexology (see more about reflexology here). As a reflexologist, clients have often fed back about unexpected emotional outbursts following a treatment, generally about things they have subconsciously been trying to repress, such as grief or unhappiness in their current life circumstance.

We all know that our minds carry emotional stress and it’s a fairly familiar concept to most that we hold stress in our necks and shoulders when we’re carrying a heavy burden at home or work, but all parts of our body can hold stress. According to Pert the physical clues we experience could be tell-tale signs of emotional memories.

This might be a bit too ‘sciency’ for some, but I think it’s fascinating.

“A feeling sparked in our mind-or-body will translate as a peptide being released somewhere. Organs, tissues, skin, muscle and endocrine glands all have peptide receptors on them and can access and store emotional information. This means the emotional memory is stored in many places in the body, not just or even primarily in the brain. You can access emotional memory anywhere in the peptides receptor network, in any number of ways. I think unexpressed emotions are literally lodged in the body. The real true emotions that need to be expressed are in the body trying to move up and be expressed and thereby integrated, made whole, and healed.” (Pert, C )

Emotions are energy in motion. Energy cannot be created or destroyed but it can be transformed. An easy example to explain this is water. It can be frozen to become ice, melted to become liquid and evaporated to become water vapor. At no point is it ever destroyed.

Therefore, the emotions that we hold in our bodies do not have to remain painful. They can be transformed. The pain we try so hard to avoid and look away from needs to be lived through for us to transform it from something that is causing us harm. Sometimes we need help with this. I most certainly did following the birth of my second child.

Meditation, almost as good as a holiday…

In an attempt to acknowledge my pain – both physical and emotional - my endlessly patient partner suggested I do some mindfulness.

I used to practice mindfulness daily, ever since my solo cycle tour through India and Nepal in 2012 (read about that here). I hadn’t been able to bring myself to sit purposely with my thoughts since my dad died. I wasn’t ready to look directly at all the sadness, anger and fear that it created. But now, after the birth of my second child, something had to change. I had two young children to look after and very little reprieve from it thanks to Covid-19.

And it didn’t take many days of reconnecting to my mindful meditation practice for me to notice a sense of calm, which was accompanied by hope.

It was a bit of a ‘wow’ moment amidst a feeling of having been trapped in chaos, and such a relief to no longer be feeling so highly strung ( read about meditation benefits here). It really allowed me a break from my minds erratic chatter and turmoil and acknowledge the pain that I am still suffering. By no means is meditation a quick fix or is becoming mindful a destination. It is very much a journey that does not always take the quickest or most direct route.

I am still on my journey and some days I crash into the ditch and feel like the world is collapsing in around me. On those days, I do my best to go for a walk. But I don’t walk ‘mindfully’, I stomp. I stomp as fast as I can until my thoughts begin to untangle themselves and allow some steam to be released, like a kettle when it comes to the boil.

Mindfulness has enabled me to acknowledge the pain I have suffered, both physical and emotional, and, instead of repressing it, adjusting to it.

You can join me on my journey at . . . www.mindfulbynature.com