Why? It’s a question I’m often asked by clients. Why have I got: cancer? Or arthritis? Or ME? Or whatever other condition they’ve come to me for. You name the illness, people are usually looking for a reason as to why it’s developed in them.

Of course, if they’ve smoked 40 a day for the past 50 years and developed lung cancer, then the reason seems fairly straight forward. Although, surprisingly, even carcinogenic substances like tobacco have differing effects on different people. I knew a man who started smoking at the age of 12 and regularly puffed through at least 2 packs a day until he died in his late 80s. (I’m not recommending this by the way.) Alternatively, a friend of my father, who had never smoked a cigarette in his life, died of lung cancer in his 30s. There is no,`one size fits all’ on illness. Every single human body is different and will react differently.

Many years ago I worked as a volunteer at The Samaritans, a `listening service’ for people who had reached the end of their tether and wanted to end their lives. The training was rigorous and one of the abiding memories for me was that we were taught never to ask why? Asking why has a subtext of making someone wrong: they shouldn’t be doing it. And, when someone has a noose around their neck or a bottle of pills in front of them, making them feel guilty isn’t going to support anyone. So, like `should/n’t‘, why is a word I try to avoid if at all possible.

So, what I say to clients is: does it matter why you’ve got whatever it is you’ve got? Because trying to find a reason for illness is often a way of blaming ourselves or others for what has happened. It was the fault of the cigarette company for getting me addicted! Was it? Did they really hold a cigarette to your lips and force you to inhale? But, in the US people have actually sued tobacco companies for compensation and won! It’s the fault of all the X-rays the doctors/dentist/my parents made me have as a child. Well, perhaps – in my childhood, every shoe-shop had an X-ray machine and our feet were X-rayed each time we got new shoes – but not everyone of my age has contracted cancer (yet!) It’s the pesticides in our food; the chemicals in the drinking water; the pollution from car engines…. the list of toxins in modern living is endless.

I heard a story by a Zen master recently. It went something along the lines of: if you’re shot by an arrow, you don’t waste time asking who shot you and why they did it; you get on with the business of removing the arrow. And that really resonated with me. We are all human. Our bodies are frail and susceptible to illness – at any age. Instead of using energy to try to find out why it’s happened, how much more productive to get on with the business of unblocking our energy channels and allowing healing energy to flow into us so that we can, hopefully, recover again.

So, a more pertinent question is perhaps not why? But how? How can I get well? There are the NHS guidelines of course:

• eating more fruit and veg
• cutting down on red meat
• getting more exercise
• avoiding smoke and fumes
• reducing stress

And there’s an additional recipe for healing that some people find harder to embrace: acceptance!

Accepting one’s illness doesn’t mean surrendering to it and giving in: it means being pro-active rather than re-active. Accepting that this has happened and exploring your options: a change of diet, resting more to conserve your energy, seeking complementary treatments, avoiding certain substances – and people – who are harmful to you and your condition – rather than railing against your illness and trying to blame yourself or others. And, even if we’re not ill at the moment, we can always ask, how can I improve or maintain my current good health?

So, as I am struggling to accept a particularly persistent chest infection myself at the moment, I shall just go and take a spoonful of my own medicine and self-administer some Reiki. After all, there’s no point in having it if I don’t use it.

Here’s to your, and my, good health!

Summer time! I didn’t see any high cotton this morning on my trip to the lake but the fish were certainly jumping.

The sad thing is, when fish come to the surface of the water, it’s usually because there’s not enough oxygen deep down. So, as mesmerising as it was to watch this fish today, I suspected that it might be in some distress and finding it hard to breathe. I’m no expert on fish but, from its size (at least 45 cm long), shape and long dorsal fin, I think this was a carp but don’t hold me to it. It was wonderful to sit and just watch it meandering its way around the lake and I sent it Reiki, along with everyone else on my list, just to be on the safe side.

The last few weeks have been bonkersly busy for me. (I know that’s not a word and the Rt Hon. Member Esq. will be going apoplectic if he ever reads this – which is highly unlikely, so let’s not waste any more energy.) It’s been full of wonderful moments with family, friends, love and laughter – which I relish – but it’s refreshing to have a few moments to myself and just be. Not doing anything: simply being.

For many people, including me, it’s extremely difficult to switch off from doing things. And while we’re busy doing: the cooking, shopping, working, going to the gym, changing nappies, decorating, planning Christmas (Aaagh! The C word in July!) and the rest of the things that we do to oil the wheels of modern life, what happens to us? We get so caught up in what we believe needs to be done for the future and what was missed/forgotten/done wrongly in the past, that we lose sight of the present.

In Buddhism, there is a saying: the past is over and done with; the future is yet unknown but the present is a gift. I might have paraphrased that a bit but you get the gist. Every single second that we are present in the moment is a blessing. Because it means that, if our minds are focused on the now, then they can’t also be worried about what might happen tomorrow, or next week, or even in an hour’s time. And it can’t be running through an endless list of things-past that shouldn’t have happened or should have been different. Living in the now is a very powerful place to be. It eliminates anxiety and resentment. And who doesn’t want that?

Because as long as we’re being in this very instant, and then this very instant, and then this very instant, the living really is easy – just as Gershwin suggested.

Try it, only for a minute at first and then extend the time. Simply sit and switch off your inner dialogue: focus on your breath, or the sounds around you, or a flower. Your chattering mind will, inevitably, chip in with a couple of judgements: you shouldn’t be wasting time or that flower’s not a flower: it’s a weed – the human mind has a list of criticisms as long as the Amazon. But thank it for its input and draw your attention back to the present moment.

Try it when things are getting tricky. When the person in the queue behind you rams their trolley into your ankle, or the bus driver closes the door on you and it’s raining, or your child/spouse/friend spills a litre of milk on the clean floor. Take a minute to flip the off-switch and just behold what’s happening right in that moment. Be with the painful ankle. Feel the rain on your skin. Observe the shape of the liquid as it spreads across the tiles. See if it makes a difference to how you handle difficult situations. And, if it doesn’t, try again next time. Our lives are an endless lesson and if we don’t learn things the first time, just keep practising.

I’m going to leave you with an image of storm clouds from last week as a reminder that nothing lasts forever: not the hot weather, not the storm, not the pain in your Achilles tendon where the shopping trolley hit you and not the milk on the floor – not if you’ve got a pet anyway.

Enjoy being in the moment!

It was a glorious morning as I cycled over to the lake to do my daily mediation and I was immersed in the magnificence of Nature. All along the cycle path were meadow grasses and wild flowers: cornflowers, campion, vetch, buttercups, mallows and they were teeming with butterflies and bees. A green woodpecker flew along side me for a (very) short while as I approached the lake and I saw numerous ethereal damsel flies fluttering by. Could my day get any better? And then I came to my favourite spot for meditation!

It was strewn with the remnants of someone’s swimming party the previous evening. What amazed me was that someone who is clearly conscious enough to colour coordinate his towel and blanket, is unconscious enough to just leave them in a place of such natural beauty. In fact, leave them anywhere for that matter, other than his own washing basket at home. (I say he because of the swimming short abandoned by the lakeside.)

When I use the words conscious and unconscious, I not talking about eyes open but on automatic pilot as opposed to comatose: I’m referring to a state of awareness. Noticing everything – how we’re feeling within ourselves, the sounds around us, the colours, nature, other people, our words, actions and body language: being present and aware in the moment. Being fully alive!

It saddens me that people discard things in the street, in forests, on the beaches, up mountains, and I know I’ve had rants about leaving litter before. But it is absolutely beyond my comprehension what people tell themselves to justify this behaviour. Apart from the fact that there are signs everywhere banning barbecues because of the risk of grass fires and more signs warning people not to swim because the water contains Weil’s disease or leptospirosis, which can be lethal, who do these unconscious beings think is going to clear up their mess? Do they think the Waste Wizard will come in the middle of the night and magic it away? Hey ho!

However, despite the mess, I did manage to stay in the moment and I managed a wonderful meditation, keeping my mind from drifting into resentment and judgement. In a perfect world everyone would take responsibility for themselves and their debris but, our world is far from perfect and we can’t change other people: all any of us can do is to change our selves.

I shall leave you with a couple of pictures of the cycle path in all its midsummer glory. Have a wonderful day and, please, take your litter home with you!

You can Google talking is good for you and endless websites come up about talking therapies, or the importance of talking about your feelings: the results are in the gazillions. But try Googling listening is good for you and all you’ll be offered is why listening to music is good for you. Not that I have anything against listening to music. But I could find nothing about listening to other people. And, in my opinion, listening is just as important as talking. I mean really listening.

Conversations are two-way interactions. When was the last time you sat with someone and focused entirely on what they were saying without letting your mind wander off onto what you might be having for dinner, or your work schedule for the next day? Maybe some fleeting judgements about what you or they are wearing, or their new hair style flashes through your mind and you lose concentration? How often do you find yourself wanting to chip in with your own story, or contradict what they’re saying?

And, conversely, how many times have you been talking to someone and realised that their mind is elsewhere, or they’ve cut you off mid-sentence and you’ve lost your thread? I would suggest that it’s frustrating at best, downright annoying at times and positively hurtful at worst.

And, if you, or the person you’re talking to, isn’t fully engaged with what’s being said, then their words are open for mishearing and misinterpretation. Even worse, if you’re distracted by the match on TV or what the people at the next table are having to eat, you lose out on the clues in their body language too.

In 1971, Professor Albert Mehrabian came up with the theory that communication  is only 7% verbal and 93 % non-verbal: the non-verbal component being body language (55 %) and tone of voice (38 %). I do want to point out that this has been disputed by many academics but I still like to think of it as a handy rule of thumb. Conversations involve far more than just words. Try having a text or email dialogue with someone and see how long before someone takes offence because, even with a smiley emoji and an exclamation mark (or perhaps because of it!) your `funny comment’ is interpreted as an insult. Just look at the problems caused by senior politicians tweeting their thoughts rather than conversing with their counterpart. How many wars might be avoided if world leaders really listened to the opposition and found out why that land was important to them and their people and found some way to compromise?

There is no real substitute for face to face talking – and proper listening – in all our relationships: partners, family, friends, even the bloke on the checkout at Tesco. It might not be appropriate to stand and ask him about his health, hobbies, children etc as the queue builds up behind you, but making eye to eye contact, smiling and saying thank you can go a long way to making him feel as though he’s human and not an automaton.

Simply smiling and acknowledging people improves your mood – and theirs. There’s all sorts of gumph talked about how it takes more muscles to frown than smile but regardless of that – smiling simply makes us feel better. Try it. Frown; then consciously turn it into a smile. See? No medication and it’s free.

So next time your partner comes home tired and irritated or joyful and excited, or a friend calls round to let off steam or share important news, listen to them – fully. Really hear what their words, facial expressions, body language and subtext are telling you. If you’re not sure you’ve fully understood them, clarify, then validate them. Empathise by saying that must be hard for you, or you must be thrilled. Explore their options, what do you want to do now? But take care not to get into collusion with them by saying things like – oh, you poor thing. All that does is serve to perpetuate a victim mentality – and that never helped anyone to do anything other than be a victim.

So, forget Elvis and all of his a little less conversation, a little more action please: let’s try: a little less texting, a little more conversation please!

It’s one of my least favourite words in the English language: should. That, together with phlegm and diarrhoea! Eugh!

It’s petty obvious why I don’t like phlegm and diarrhoea – apart from the fact that they’re appallingly difficult to spell – they are words for rather disgusting bodily gunk. But should? Why `should’ should be eradicated from the English language, exiled to Room 101 and expunged forever from our vocabulary?

Firstly, because it’s a denial of reality. In an ideal world, there are lots of things that shouldn’t happen: crime, abuse, murder, rape, assault, torture, corruption, pollution, climate change….. You can add just about anything that’s hurtful, antisocial or unpleasant to the list. But, the problem is, we don’t live in some Utopian society: we live in C21st Britain. Unpleasant things do happen. Saying that they shouldn’t happen is about living in a dream world where we wish things were different. I could say: my parents, brother and best friend shouldn’t have died so young. But they did. Saying that they shouldn’t isn’t helping me to accept reality,process it and move forward in my life.

The second reason to avoid should is that it’s about living up to people’s expectations – including our own. Should(n’t) makes people wrong. Every time you say: such and such shouldn’t have happened, or you should’ve done so and so, or I should have gone to the gym/work/shopping etc etc you are putting yourself or someone at fault. The subtext of the word should (or shouldn’t) is that something has been missed or forgotten. There is little room for understanding or compassion when people, including ourselves, inevitably miss the mark. We are humans: not robots. We err by our very nature.

Should(n’t) is saying that we know how things should be: setting ourselves up as judge, jury and executioner. It’s a heavy burden to carry – knowing how everyone and everything should behave. The word should sets us in the concrete wellies of resentment – drowning in bitterness and anger. Because, of course, we know how the world should unfold and it isn’t unfolding the we wanted it to!

A much softer, more forgiving word is could. Could gives us choices. I could have done yoga this morning but I chose to do the washing instead. S/he could have scored a goal from that position but s/he missed. (I’ve noticed that the world of sport is very heavy on the shoulds.) Of course, choices come with consequences so we need to take responsible for how we choose – but that’s part of being an adult.

Changing our vocabulary from should to could requires consciousness but it is possible. And it makes life a lot less harsh and a lot more flexible. Have a go and see.

So right now, I’m going to access my inner Mary Berry and make some cordial from the elderflowers I picked last week. I could have made it when they were fresh. (See what I did there?) Instead I chose to freeze them until I had more time.

Cheers!