James Ballantyne

Tag: Breathing

  • Overthinking: A Tale of Three Walks

    Overthinking: A Tale of Three Walks

    The best way for me to describe this is to tell you a story.

    Last Sunday morning I had fun with my camera.

    But. I had to make a choice to do this.

    Because, the previous Thursday I went out, hoping to have fun, a relaxing walk, mixing some bird watching and photography. But for some reason it wasn’t fun. I had got to a point of digesting a few days worth of new knowledge about photography skills and practice and then went out armed with this knowledge.

    On a grey uninspiring day. I also went to go nature walking.

    There wasn’t much nature, and there wasn’t much of interest. It was a bit bleak.

    Here’s a few examples from the day. Grey light mostly.

    In short, I got back and felt as though I was trying to do too much.

    Rushing. And over thinking.

    Was I enjoying the walk..? No.

    Was I chasing a bird or moment of nature? Yes

    Was I trying to use my camera and look at scenes , sometimes..

    Was I trying to practice a new skill, walk and find places, or see nature?

    Too much going on. Over thinking.

    Anyway. A few moments of fun in the sunset. Nothing is wasted, absolutely.

    But I got back and thought id wasted a day, frustrated.

    But on Sunday things were different.

    I went to a place I had only been once before, HedleyHope Fell, just outside Tow Law, last time I was there it was wet and cold and looked like this:

    Though I also realise that this photo doesn’t give any indication of how wet it was that day. Its just a tree. But trust me it was wet here in November.

    On Sunday I went, the sun was hazy and out, and I decided that I would solely use the space to walk and try taking interesting photos, try some different angles and settings and just have some fun. I also thought I would take seriously the suggestion that I would tell a story, and the simple story of my photos was that it was me going for a walk.

    So, in 8 photos, here’s me going for a walk at HedleyHope Fell.

    Im not going to write this 4 days later and make out that I was gliding around the setting, in a beautiful flow of human with camera making beautiful art.. but I can say that I was having fun.

    I was lost in the moment, yet present in the moment. Observing landscapes, light and scenes in front of me, trying to look, feel and sense the place.

    Being present.

    Enjoying myself.

    And, I could tell what happened to take me out of this.

    A text message , just as I was about to climb up the hill to the car.

    A message that took me away from the place, the fun and the enjoyment.

    I should have turned off my phone, but I dont do that for emergency sake, and text messages are so rare…so, I

    was into thinking again. Panic even.

    In that moment I lost presence.

    Even breathing and trying to ‘slow down’ I had gone. Only my body remained in the fell, my mind was elsewhere, panic anxiety or whatever it was.

    I did have plans to go to a different nature reserve after this one, but instead I faced the challenge, knowing that avoiding it would only make me worry more. Though I had resolved that on my drive back home that the worst case scenario was unlikely. And, it was unlikely. It was and is something I can deal with.

    So its all ok.

    So in a way I am proud of myself for how I responded and reacted calmly to a situation..eventually.

    But what im also aware of is how easy it is for the fun and enjoyment I was having to burst like a bubble.

    My flow went, my mind raced, panic, but then gradually logic and calmness did return.

    I did go out again later, and I did enjoy an afternoon of sunshine, but what I did on this occasion at the nature reserve, was focus on recovering calmly from the minor stress, walking, breathing and doing the nature thing. Doing one thing at a time. So just outside Darlington at the Burdon Community Woodland, I got these photos.

    Maybe not the best photos. But that wasn’t the point.

    But it was important for me notice that I had to focus on one thing.

    Walking and being in nature is good for me for slowing down, for appreciating connections with the earth. It was what I needed to restore myself. Sitting and waiting for an owl, or the movement of birds slows me down. It was one thing to focus on. It wasn’t the time for me to learn a new skill, a new toy. I needed something different for myself, than I needed in the morning.

    Fun in the morning, Slow speed in the afternoon. Nature in attendance.

    So, that’s my slightly unwieldy story about overthinking. Im kind of over thinking whether I should even share it, because its probably not that interesting, or enlightening, just me going out for walks and realising when I’ve been present in them or not, and I would imagine that’s just like any one of us.

  • EMDR and my Anxious Mind

    When I got triggered by something a few weeks ago I went into a bit of a spiral.

    Downwards.

    And I forgot.

    My mind went into overdrive

    The words, fears and punishments from my childhood got relived into my present.

    Thats what trauma, childhood trauma, any trauma feels like.

    Mind whirlwind.

    Anxiety.

    Thinking.

    Over thinking.

    And in the midst, I forgot.

    I forgot because I had got consumed.

    I forgot who I was, I became the frightened child, the frightened me, hiding and scared.

    I didn’t even realise I was doing it.

    I needed my fiancé to keep checking in and asking me.

    The Trigger.

    Did it matter what it was? No – but it was big one.

    I spiralled downwards for at least 5 days. But tried to keep going and pretending.

    During that time wrote a bit – publically

    And wrote a bit privately – a lot of emotions out, alot

    But I was still on edge. Even after beginning to realise myself in the present.

    Beginning to regroup and rebuild

    Telling myself, that I am safe, that I am enough, that I am stronger than I realise.

    I did a great job of telling others too, but I needed to hear myself.

    But ultimately, it wasn’t what I wrote, what I read

    The things I needed to know.

    I had to learn again, and again that I didnt have to suffer alone – and my lovely Christelle sat with me on times, affirmed that I was having a trauma reaction.

    Affirmed that what I was going through was trauma anxiety.

    Taking me back to the past, unable to rest in the moment

    Unsettled.

    I forgot and also I resisted, I resisted to do the very things that I knew would help

    So I did all the other things, like comfort eat, excessive cleaning, distractions.

    Part of me was anxious, so I listened to that part

    Part of me was also resistant to and didn’t want to get rid of the anxiety, it was loving the attention

    Two weeks of the swirl, back and forth, heart racing, forgetting to breathe.

    Forgetting my safety

    Forgetting the journey to this point

    Forgetting and being over taken by mymind racing

    Forgetting my power

    Forgetting myself

    Yet in the midst of last Thursday, in the afternoon, I somehow did something that I remembered.

    Yes I had began to regroup the preeceding few days. Get myself out of the swirl

    I remembered EMDR.

    Something my therapist taught me.

    Something I had barely needed or used for a long while.

    So I sat down

    Breathed

    Closed my eyes

    And for a few minutes listened to my breathing

    and tapped either side of my shoulder blades, first quickly, then slower.

    Breathing too.

    Why had I forgotten EMDR? In the midst of a severe trauma reaction, I forgot a lot.

    The part of me that wanted pain to remain dominant raced – Tolle calls this the Pain-Body -the ego.

    Anxiety induced forgetfulness

    And what happened.

    Since I did EMDR, my brain completely stopped the anxiety patterns. And it has done ever since.

    The descending of calm on me.

    Calm. Utter calm.

    A reordering of the neurones and programming, that no amount of writing, eating or other externals would have changed. Almost miraculous to be honest, and virtually instant.

    Incredible. Its as if my entire mind has shifted. To a new place. One that isn’t racing.

    I can breathe.

    Literally 5 minutes of EMDR. After 2 weeks of trauma responding. Panic and Anxiety.

    On one hand I could be annoyed I didnt do EMDR within a few days, on the other the trigger did give me the opportunity to work through some things- part of me that needed to heal.

    Maybe I need to have mental notes around my flat – remember the good practices. Remember EMDR, or Yoga, or other good trauma healing practices. Especially when in the midst im likely to forget.

    Recognising that recovery from a lifetime of abuse is seriously hard work, so im not beating myself up, but noting what trauma and anxiety does to the memory in the present, and how it created in me resistance to wanting to, and conscious memory of what I needed to do in response.

    How a trauma reaction caused me to forget – and highlight what I might need to do to remember in the future.

  • Responding to hard things

    I write this as I’m on the train to London from my new home in Darlington, having moved in 6 days ago. Today I say goodbye (professionally) to my FYT colleagues on a first team day in over 2 years.

    But yesterday I realised that I could breathe.

    It was the first time I could breathe and let my body relax since at least 9th December. 3 months of feeling the underlying ache of anxiety and having to respond well to it.

    It was on 9th December that I got the news I was being made redundant from a job I loved. The rest of the month was spent dealing with that.

    It was also spent looking forward to spending Christmas with away in the USA and dealing with all the flight paperwork, permission, covid tests and travel. The time away was glorious by the way, and the break I needed, and I got engaged to my beautiful love Christelle.

    But I knew whilst I was away what I was coming back to, looking for work.

    Nope. Not quite.

    For, on 9th January my letting agent called, I thought it wasn’t a normal time for them to call, to say that the landlord was selling the flat I was in,I had two months to move out. Yes, I know it was longer notice than usual , but it was nice that the date of my birthday this year was also written large on my eviction notice.

    So, now I had to find somewhere to live and somewhere to work. Breathing took on a whole new dimension. Breathing to cope. Breathing to stay regulated.

    Trying to respond well in the midst, meant living it, not necessarily writing about it. It meant accessing the therapy homework, journalling feelings, breathing.

    My rational brain said that my flat was just bricks and mortar, but given the role it has played in my healing, recovery and rebuilding, it had become so much more. I went through feelings of betrayal when I saw new flats. Even though I knew I had no choice but to move, I still didn’t want to.

    My rational brain also wondered how I’d find a new flat in a competitive market without a job that was more than a few hours per week. Thats a rational thought..isn’t it?

    I kept reminding myself that through all these life circumstances that they were just that, life circumstances, they weren’t all of life. I tried to tell myself that I am the sky, not the clouds. Life is bigger and I am more than these circumstances..even if these circumstances are challenging. They will pass.

    Even if the Sky/cloud thing is a good metaphor, doesn’t mean that I didn’t struggle with dealing with the emotions of everything. I could sense myself trying to say ‘Im ok’ when I wasn’t, and avoiding wanting to face the emotions of frustration, shock, grief and loss. I could say that I was a model patient of myself , noting my emotions and being present to them. But that wouldnt be true. Even after sitting in the emotion, noting it, breathing and working through it was a good thing each time. Didn’t always mean that I wanted to face them every time.

    And everything I didn’t it lurked in the background a little bit longer, chipping away as I avoided it.

    I may have re read Eckhart Tolle during these last three months on being present and learning acceptance, but I had to do it. Accepting, going with the flow, offering less resistance. Opportunities may be waiting, but feeling acceptance, trusting the present was a hard gig. By the way also read both of Kishimi and Koga’s books on courage during this time. Maybe life circumstances like this are a good time to read Adlerian psychology. Or to do a counselling course at college. Maybe pain is where more is revealed. Maybe pain and change is a time for learning and digging deep. Or maybe just self help books are my current drug. Then again, as I remember, Richard Rohrs book Falling Upwards started all of this 4 years ago and that was read as I was made homeless and jobless then too.

    Just heading through Doncaster. If anyone is here for the travel update. Talking of trains, they, and nature have been places of calm in the gaps. Being mesmerised looking at life through binoculars forced the present to be more aware.

    Looking at nature in its pattern, regular trips to cowpen bewley woodland park to watch kingfishers, swans, and owls have been hugely grounding.

    The space that was my safe grounding place was now a place of tension, as the boxes began to be filled, as shedding happened, as the date loomed. Outside breathing space was more required.

    But then I’d see sunsets and nature changing, and it remind me of my own situation. I would be my own metaphor. Yet I was trying to stay present an see what I could see for what it was. Then I’d remember to breathe again.

    Positive news of changes emerged, new job and flat were found, I had been accepted and affirmed by others. Now I needed to continue to accept the changes, to accept and make the move into new things. It is now a week since I said goodbye to my old flat and I’ll write more about that soon. But as the removal men left having unpacked my stuff, at 4pm Thursday I clenched my fists and exclaimed ‘Yes’ I did it…I’m home.

    I did two hard things at once. More than that, it was a myriad of many tiny hard things, making choices, viewing flats, interviews, travel, whilst also staying alive, cooking, resting, shopping, self care during it all.

    And saying goodbyes. Which I hate doing. This was also something revealed to me. One of many things.

    I’m now nearly at Peterborough, and the WiFi signal on the train is fluid and maybe a sign to end this piece. Reflecting on my last 3 months. Noting how the last 3 days have felt peaceful and calm in comparison. Noting how practicing breathing in the cloud gaps is different to when the sky is clearer.

    As for metaphors this piece might be a cork piece. I was dealing with too many things to write much here, writing this piece and now that I’ve moved, I’ll have more head/emotional space to do more writing. There’s at least 10 drafts started in the last 3 months that didn’t get written. I’m grateful too for those who have offered presence during this time, sitting , listening, and understanding as Ive worked through all this change, especially to my love Christelle.

    Breathing clean calm air after facing and doing hard things. I feel light again, I can breathe…

  • Gap the Mind

    Gap the Mind

    Mind the Gap

    Between the train and the platform edge

    Mind

    the Gap

    Step over the gap

    But what about Gap the Mind?

    Yes, your Mind – Yes, my Mind

    Is it locked onto overdrive?

    Whats its thinking about today?

    Locked in past?

    Locked in future?

    Locked in sideways news?

    Tied up in a current drama?

    Relentless thinking

    All. the . time

    What do you think might happen if it stopped?

    Scared of the gap?

    A thinking mind is a safe one? is it?

    Because Im not thinking about the thing that gnaws at me

    What would happen… if there was a gap?

    Listen to the now of your mind

    Stand to one side of it

    notice – what is it thinking

    What is your mind thinking?

    Is it heavy – the thinking load?

    Whilst you are thinking – you are not here

    You are somewhere else

    Somewhere else …in time

    Somewhere else..in thought

    But not here.

    So stay here a moment.

    Sit..and notice the mind churn

    Take a moment from your mind – to look

    At something

    Anything

    Take yourself from your mind, to your eye

    To your hands

    To your nose

    To your body

    Feel it as it moves

    Especially slowly

    like a pen on paper

    a pencil on a card

    Create a gap

    Gap the mind.

    Nothing has disappeared.

    But you created a moment

    A gap, when you controlled your mind, and it didnt control you

    For a brief moment

    Try it again

    Gap your mind – and see what happens

    You are not your mind

    Make a Gap

    Feel the space between

    Let it flow

    Ill do it then

    If not when – what about now?

  • Healing is possible – when we walk

    Healing is possible – when we walk

    The day started like the last 3 on my summer camping trip to the Yorkshire dales.

    Grey. Drizzly. Wet

    But, after breakfast and tidying up, the smallest semblance of blue sky emerged. Just the tiniest bit.

    The tiniest blue in a sky full of grey, after a day of mist and cloud.

    Sometimes it just takes the tiniest speck of blue.

    Sometimes, we can barely see it

    Sometimes we have to walk, even in the midst.

    Sometimes our tiniest blue is something that we cling on to to keep going, it might be our children, our faith..just something that tells us that walking is just about possible, and worthwhile.

    The tiniest blue

    Do I walk?

    Will I get wet? Hurt? Where will I go? Who will be there?

    How many questions to overthink before making a move. Thinking is the enemy of flow. Life is for living, not watching others live it.

    So I started.

    Walking.

    The map looked flat. But then again walks aren’t maps.

    When walking, the path gave me decisions, like above, 3 splintered off routes, often a muddy one, rocks or gravel, and what I realised some were better for downhill than up. They got me to where I needed to be, but I still had to choose

    Some paths were so worn down they’d been replaced, laid in concrete or wood to stop me from slipping, outside help to aid the walker.

    Clouds gathered in the distance, sweat pouring from me. Breathing becoming difficult. Hard work. But I was walking.

    Every now and then a moment to stop. Take off layers, it was warm, drink and eat.

    Signposts that told me how far I’d come. A mark to say, 2 miles done.

    We need that don’t we. Someone to say, it’s been hard to walk, but look at where you are, and how far you’ve been. Even if you’re drenched in sweat and there’s walking to do. Stop and notice.

    You got this far. Be proud of yourself …..Keep going…

    Other things to stop and notice, purple heather, a buzzard in the sky, and somehow energy returns when something natural and beautiful takes our attention. Gratitude moments.

    Walking along. Walking alone. Listening.

    A flicker of unexpected brightness, a surprise, universe conspiring, something new to focus on for a split second, watching the flight and beauty of something so graceful as the Wheatear, a moment to feel treasure, to see, to hear that chirp. An unexpected gift.

    A warning ahead. Previous walks have had bulls in fields, cows even, and even this week I had to avoid a herd right by the gate. But this one had to be walked past. There was only one path. No way to avoid. Must walk through. Keep walking.

    Breathe, I can do this one. I know what I need to do. Im less scared. Its been tamed, by many other walkers as they’ve been past.

    In the vastness of the landscape, and the pursuit of the climb, small details can get missed, the thistle, bumblebees and wild flowers are scattered around. Ancient limestone rocks strut out from the peat and grass, and attract balls of bright green moss, their intricate weave capturing all the nutrients they can, a myriad of depth perched on the rock

    How long has this moss been here for? It looks fresh, but could be weeks, months, years old, and that’s the thing, on the walk, ancient, recent and new knowledge and ideas can help to shape our path. As we look into them the myriad of depth gives us life, encouragement to walk on.

    Climbs up to gates that seem hard work, and then a view of the next section, the next climb, and a gate and stile to climb over, and another moment to pause, to take it in, to see how far you’ve come, and also the destination ahead. Legs getting ever more tired, steps hard work, even if they’ve been easily laid out, one foot in front of the other. No going back.

    Every now and then a guide present, that map, or someone descending or going faster and slightly ahead. We all go at our own pace.

    Another stop, another drink, a moment to learn, a moment to take it the surroundings, a moment to breathe before the next climb. Another decision to keep going, with 4 miles of walking in me, 1 more to go and it’s steep, the last bit. But it’s the bit I’m here for.

    The Summit in sight, still shrouded from view, steps to take when walking, ive got this far, how far to go, and will this tired, sweaty body make it up the last bit. How tired am I? How long shall I rest for? What do I need to make the next step?

    Its water, a trail bar, and a banana time.

    Every step I’m taking
    Every move I make feels
    Lost with no direction
    My faith is shaking

    But I, I gotta keep trying
    Gotta keep my head held high

    There’s always gonna be another mountain
    I’m always gonna wanna make it move
    Always gonna be an uphill battle
    Sometimes I’m gonna have to lose
    Ain’t about how fast I get there
    Ain’t about what’s waiting on the other side
    It’s the climb

    Miley Cyrus, The Climb

    Life at the base of the mountain.

    In an amongst the rocks, a circular pool. A swamp of vivid colour.

    Dragonfly dancing around, and rock pipits flutter.

    Views await as I get to the edge of the mountain, a valley comes into view. The other side.

    Ribblehead Valley, and the glorious Ribblehead Viaduct. Until now hidden by the mountain itself. And still hidden by the clouds, which I’m now almost in.

    A moment to recognise that there are sometimes many paths to get to the same destination, some snake the valleys, some tantalise on what seems the precipice, some, seem like more of a slow long gradual walk, but paths towards the summit none the less.

    But these clouds need walking though, to get to the top, as there’s not far. Encouraged by the new view, and within reach of the summit, one more steep push, one more step in front of the other, one more decision per step, which rock, which gulley, which position shall I put my foot, what’s going to grip, on those last few steps, steps to the summit, and then…

    Not a peak, but a large platform, a flat space, with views of other distant heights, Pen-y-ghent peeking in the clouds and others far off.

    So I made it, to the top, to the summit, 723 metres up. And that is there the sun came out. For virtually the first time all morning. The first blue sky, since the blue sky when I started. A space to sit, and gather with other fellow climbers, compare notes of the directions they took, their starting points, their perils and journeys, to admire the view, and take selfies with that most important of markers. The trig point at the top.

    Elation

    Relief

    I made it.

    And then the descent. Realising the difference of gravity on the tired limbs, its as if the earth calls me back down, pulling me down the mountain. Lighter feet, but careful feet on the rocks, mud and paths.

    Almost free flowing back down. Light. Free.

    Even as the rain really did come.

    Walking feels light. Less in the bag, more in the stomach. Every step the possibility of another, but much quicker, easier.

    The climb worth it for the climb. Worth it for the views. Worth it to have the free walk back. Worth it to have seen, lived, felt and overcome.

    We make the road by walking

    Horton, Friere.

    Some paths have already been made.

    But we still need to walk them.

    Live them, one step at time.

    Starting from the first.

    Sometimes we need to walk.

    The tiniest blue sky in the mist at the base.

    The tiniest blue sky at the top.

    The journey in-between

    Freedom, achievement and energy on the way back down.