As I watched the geese preening themselves this morning – all standing on one leg as they did so, I was filled with admiration. Having had both encephalitis and viral meningitis in the past, my own sense of balance leaves much to be desired. Despite having practised yoga for more than a quarter of a century, my Vrksasana – or Tree Pose – is less like a mighty oak; more like a reed in a howling gale.

But finding it difficult to hold my balance one one leg doesn’t impact hugely on my life. What did impact my life, however, was the reason I ended up with two different brain viruses (in the space of 7 years) in the first place: my entire life was out of kilter. I was working as a teacher, looking after my three children. Running them to their: ballet, drama, netball, tennis, gymnastics, parties, play dates and everything else involved in raising kids. The object being, ironically, to support them to become `well balanced’ individuals.

I was also supporting my parents and brother through illnesses that would turn out to be terminal – 200 miles away. All my energy was going between my children, my parents and my job. No space for me anywhere. So what did my body do? If the brain is the control centre of the body, mine pulled the plug. It shut down! Forced me to stop and focus on myself.

And it was shortly after recovering from viral meningitis that I began my journey with Reiki. I firmly believe that no experience in life is wasted and, certainly, my brush with these two crippling illnesses led me to my life’s purpose – for which I am eternally grateful.

Some years ago I had a client who worked like a man possessed. He was up early, worked late, went in at weekends and hardly took any holidays. On the rare occasions he did take time off, he was ill: flu, chest infections, shingles, vomiting – you name it. Once, when I asked him if he had any idea what his body was trying to tell him he replied, `Not to stop working.’ Doh! Wrong answer!

The late Dr K. Bradford Brown says,

`Life keeps turning up the volume until we hear the message.‘

My client simply wasn’t hearing the messages. But, being totally honest, how many of us do hear what Life is telling us until our bodies shut down or, worse still – die!

The phrase work/life balance is widely used these days but, within that, there must be space for us. It’s no use balancing work, kids, parents and housework if we don’t add ourselves to the equation. We are the linchpin of our own lives and the lives of those we support. Taking time for ourselves is NOT being selfish: it’s the very opposite. It’s enabling us to keep doing the things we want – and need – to do in life: put food on the table, pay the bills, raise the children, care for the elderly and, most importantly, enjoy the company of those we love for as long as possible.

Work + rest + play + ME = a balanced life.

Simples!

The mist on the lake this morning carries it’s own magic. The colours are more muted than usual; the sounds slightly softer. It’s an altogether more tranquil place when mist shrouds the water. I love it. And, I remembered to take my phone with me to capture the moment today!

Yesterday was an altogether different start to the day. It was bright and sunny – and warm for the time of year – but I left the house in a huff and forgot to take my camera or phone with me. In fact, I didn’t even meditate – I just sat and brooded – for a while.

The trigger was an inconsequential moment: a gesture intended to be helpful that went awry and I got cross. Not, blow-a-fuse, scream-the-house-down, slam-the-door-so-that-the-whole-road-know-about-it cross; just annoyed enough for it to spoil my sacred time at the lake.

Most of the geese at the lake are Canada Geese, a few Greylag Geese but, for me, the most beautiful of them all are the Egyptian Geese. Their plumage is vibrant and their eyes are beautifully contoured – hence the name. While I was sitting on the bank (purposefully NOT meditating) two Egyptian geese swam up, paddled out of the water to within a few feet of me and began a magnificent mating ritual. They stretched out their wings and bobbed their heads to each other, circling and honking in a moving display of courtship. I was mesmerised.

Of course, I couldn’t record any of this because I’d stomped out of the house in a strop without my phone!

The Dalai Lama says: anger is what we do to hurt ourselves when others make mistakes. And yesterday demonstrated that to me. To compound the situation, after the geese had swum off together side by side, a wren, normally timid little birds, hopped down and began pecking the ground nearby. Another missed photo opportunity – all because of my irritation.

I’m not saying that all anger is bad. I believe that anger about some injustices can galvanise us into taking action. But getting het up about the minutiae of life, when it’s just other people being themselves and not behaving the way we want them to, is a total waste of energy. Energy that could be far better spent creating loving gestures, or sharing magical moments at the lake with others.

And, of course, nothing lasts forever. Moods pass, mists fade, the sun comes out and life moves on. The tiff was forgotten by the time I got home filled with awe and humility at the scenes Nature had allowed me to witness. Another lesson learned – hopefully; don’t sweat the small stuff!

No lakeside meditation for me today – gardening instead, which I always think of as very meditative anyway. Meditation doesn’t have to be sitting cross legged on a special cushion chanting,`Om‘: it can be anything that clears our mind of the everyday chatter that goes round and round. Sitting knitting and being absorbed in creating a garment is very meditative, so is painting, angling, sewing, swimming in fact, any act that stills what the Buddhists call the chattering mind.

We all have it, that inner dialogue. Some people call it a`monkey mind‘ constantly on the move, jumping from one thought to another, never settling: some organisations such as More 2 Life, a personal development movement started by Brad Brown and Roy Whitten, refer to it as Mindtalk.

I have a recollection from childhood of Popeye with an angel on one shoulder and a devil on the other. A very graphic representation of his inner dialogue. That devil was his Mindtalk.

It’s the way we sabotage ourselves. The chattering mind is always critical. It tells us that we can’t do something because…. and then fills in the blanks with any number of negative thoughts that have plagued us all our lives; we’re too old or too young; too short or too tall; too loud or too quite, boring, useless, stupid …. on and on it goes like a turbine, generating more and more self doubt.

When I was thirteen, a boys said to me, in front of several other teenagers, `My mate said you were pretty.’
Having a grandmother who always referred to me as `handsome’ (which in my book meant masculine!) I glowed with pride and allowed myself to take in this complement – and from a boy as well! I was over the moon. And then he followed it up with `Yeah, pretty ugly!’

He laughed. All the others laughed. And I wanted to crawl away. The belief that I was ugly was planted in my chattering mind and came out every time anyone paid me a complement – for decades!

When I saw a photo of myself, I saw a nose that was too big, lips that were too thin, teeth that were crooked. That chattering mind just wouldn’t shut up. Apart from the fact that physical beauty is subjective, it’s also superficial. Real beauty comes from deep within us – and it’s based on authenticity and truth. And, truth telling is the only way to silence those chattering minds of ours. Telling the truth is the angel on Popeye’s shoulder, counteracting the devil on the other.

I am much older now and, hopefully, wiser than I was at 13 and have spent years working on myself and my demons. I attack my chattering mind as I attack my garden; weeding out the dross, getting rid of the dead wood and self criticisms. Instead, I nurture the plants – and thoughts – that I want in order to create a place of peace and beauty.

But gardening, like self improvement, is not a one-off job. We need to be constantly alert for those naughty little weeds that will keep coming back and sabotaging us: the couch grass of our minds. We need to dig deep and haul them out by the roots – again and again and again. It’s a lifetime’s work.
But, even if you do keep cutting out the dross, don’t expect it to be all sweet smelling roses. The loveliest gardens will have barrows full of manure heaped on them regularly in order to bring out the best blooms.

So be prepared for shed loads of shit in life – it will make you stronger and you’ll grow more beautiful as a result!