Feeling gratitude
As if this time of pause and reflection was not a blessing in itself, the universe bestows upon us too this most incredible weather! I’m just grateful that here on Guernsey we are permitted two hours of exercise per day, and us Es have certainly been making the most of this. We’ve enjoyed every moment of our time in the great outdoors both within the garden and beyond. Spring is most definitely sprung and the land herself is a blessing. The colours of the flowers!
I haven’t used the car for a good old while now, favouring the bike, and we’ve been heading out to the cliffs and to Petit Port mainly, down those 300 odd steps. The tide has been super low so we fulfilled a dream of walking/swimming between Petit Port and Moulin Huet, which was great. We’ve enjoyed running on the beach and swimming in the sea and I’m only grateful for the electric bike on the way back home, after traipsing up those steps!
We’ve managed swims at Saints and Fermain too, early morning, when the tide has been at its highest after that full moon, it was a 10.2m on Thursday, which was super high and ever so peaceful. There’s nothing better than having the beach to ourselves for a quick run around and then back home again, refreshed, ready to ‘stay home’ until we need a run around (or run off) again.
Staying at home hasn’t been particularly challenging though, we’re lucky to have a garden and I was excited to establish our raised bed so that we could plant on the waxing moon, literally hours before the full moon peaked. So far so good, with this sun the plants have been growing well. Even some of my medicinal plants have started sprouting, and I’ve had to re-pot the marigolds already.
I’ve said it before but as Mother Earth is allowed to re-wild herself, so too we have been re-wilding, not that we even realised we needed to. Eben removes his clothes at every available opportunity, he even pooed in the garden today, like it was the most natural thing in the world, and I suppose it is really. Goodness knows how we might try and tame him for pre-school, although I think it might be a while until the children return to school, but who knows.
If there’s one thing we are continuously reminded, it is that all life is uncertain. I’m reading a book called The House of Glass by Hadley Freeman about her Jewish grandmother and her grandmother’s siblings, and their life as Polish Jewish immigrants in the 1930s and 1940s in Paris, France. If ever there were people who had to live with uncertainty then these were European Jews in the 1940s, never sure when their life might be taken away from them, just for being born Jewish. But don’t get me started on that.
People are constantly persecuted aren’t they, for being born a certain way, or in a certain place. Just as people are always dying, regardless of Covid-19. I wonder if sometimes the media might have forgotten that. Children continue to starve to death on a daily basis. Refugees also die because no one cares and no one will accept them into their countries for fear of…presumably the same fear that found the Jewish people being refused entry into other countries all those years ago too. Who knows. I’m no expert.
I do know that it saddens me that no one cares, as if we do not have the capacity in our hearts to care for so many. One of my swimming friend’s made it quite clear to me that really no one does care at the moment about all the other suffering, about children starving and refugees dying from neglect, because Covid-19 has taken centre stage. This made me sad too. That lives are not equal. There is still so much inequality, still ethnic cleansing, and so much harm done. It’s out of sight and out of mind and I am only sorry to those charities trying to help, but now not receiving so much funding.
It was a defining moment for me though, being told this, as if some lives are worth more than others. We’ve certainly been there before, history is full of such stories. We’re just lucky some of us to have been born in Guernsey, where we don’t have to worry about our safety beyond the current Covid-19 risk. I suppose this is the reason it grips us. It’s the closest we’ve gotten to having everything taken away from us, not least our freedom but our life and the lives of our loved ones. I do understand the fear and panic this has created.
However that doesn’t excuse the blame culture, and the tale telling that we have seen, with some sending photos and videos of people on the beaches to senior politicians, who thankfully had the sense to say that they couldn’t understand the problem. It’s about being responsible isn’t it. Taking responsibility. Doing what is asked of us and leaving the authorities to manage it. I appreciate that underlying the tale telling is fear, and I feel huge compassion for those who are suffering with this, the fear that is, and the sense of being out of control, and worried for their lives, and therefore needing to blame everyone else.
But really, better to just enjoy what we can of this time, to shift the perspective, find the positives and focus on those. Life is always uncertain. It always has been and it always will be, we need to just settle into that, because we never truly know what tomorrow might bring. Thus me being sad serves no one. It certainly doesn’t serve my family. Me worrying absolutely isn’t going to help anyone either, it’s just going to waste my energy. This is the time to step into the uncomfortableness of the unknown and live in the moment.
Getting on with things and having fun where I can, doesn’t mean I don’t still feel compassion though, for those directly affected by Covid-19, who are losing loved ones and in the most traumatic circumstances. I am also sorry for the many other millions currently suffering, not only because Covid-19 has locked down the world making their lives increasingly difficult – Refuge reported a 25% increase in calls from those suffering domestic abuse last week in the UK, for example.
I’m forever hopeful that this disease will make us more compassionate, collectively. That the world will come together, not separate. That we might care for all beings, regardless of where they were born and when. That we might still learn to find the joy in the uncertainty, that we give each other a break and acknowledge that we’re all doing our best. Perhaps it is bold of me to ask this, but if there is a time to seek new beginnings, then it is now, in our own lives, that might feed into the collective.
This is what spurs me on at this time. To live life to the full within the guidelines given to us by those who know best at this time. No one really knows how this will unfold. But what we do know is that we have a choice in how we experience this time. Whether we focus only on the negatives and the potential for dying, or whether we embrace the positives and get on with living.
I’ve become increasingly thankful for my life and for all it brings with it, that I get to enjoy this weather and this island and my beautiful wild family, there is much for me to be grateful about and I am grateful, truly. I’m especially grateful that my children get to be wild, because I have never seen them happier. The wild suits them, it reflects their inner spirit, they are uninhibited and innocent; this too is a gift.
I know others are grateful too. Covid-19 might be dividing but it is also providing people with an opportunity to consider their lives, the before-Covid-19 and how they might like it to be following Covid-19. Some will no doubt be keen to get back to ‘normal’, while others will be happy to settle into a new normal, with some lessons learned from this pause. That too will be fascinating to observe, whether we soon forget or manage to maintain our gratitude.
Shifting from fear
We began lockdown here in Guernsey on the new moon and here we are now on the full moon, and with lockdown being extended for a further 10 days.
I’ll be honest, I’m in no hurry for lockdown to end. Admittedly I miss being able to be in the same room and touch students when I teach, and I long for a proper long swim and to hang out with my parents, but there have been many positives to come out of this last two weeks. I have a raised bed all of my own for example! This is a dream come true, it’s been on the list for years, but the opportunity just never presented itself until now.
There are so many other positives that I blogged about recently, even getting to spend all this time with the children has been such a gift. So there will be many things to miss when lockdown has finished, but the one thing I absolutely won’t miss is the fear that Covid-19 has brought with it. I was always taught that fear represents ‘false evidence appearing real’. Fear feels very real, but it is just an emotion, just a state of mind, just something that we have chosen to buy into, that will create our reality, because of the manner in which we allow it to control our thinking and the decisions that we then make.
It’s very difficult when you’re ‘in it’ to recognise that you have a choice, that it is your mind that is allowing fear to take up residence, that only you can actually decide how you might react to any given situation. Do you come from a place of love, or a place of fear? Because the outcome will be very different depending upon your perspective, and your suffering will be greater one way more than the other too.
It’s not dissimilar from the glass is half full/glass is half empty scenario. We get to choose. But like I say, sometimes we are so ‘in it’ that we don’t recognise this. We’re also so conditioned to respond a certain way that we are not even conscious of the manner in which we have reacted until much later, when something or someone makes us conscious of it and by then it’s too late.
Media doesn’t help. We are fed the negative constantly. I’ve had to stop looking at Facebook beyond yoga, because the negativity, albeit from many well-meaning, was becoming so draining. In this too, you see, we have a choice. We always have a choice about what we allow into our lives, from media, to people, to experiences.
E says Covid-19 has made me very opinionated and he’s right. I’ve had to look at that. Perhaps that’s my underlying fear, not of Covid-19 but of the detrimental changes to society because of the fear that has accompanied Covid-19 and the manner in which it has changed behaviour. I don’t like that people don’t want to breathe fresh air, that people virtually throw themselves into hedges when you run past them, and that others feel it’s their place to judge and criticise what people are doing with their two hours of exercising.
I’ve had to pull myself up on that, because in many respects that makes me judgmental and closes my heart to the world. I have had to reframe this, so that I don’t lose myself in it, to have compassion for the fact others’ fear is so great that they literally see you as the enemy in disguise. Perhaps it is this that I’m having to come to terms with. Perhaps this is my underlying angst with this whole situation.
Because I have recognised that there is some angst and it is this that feeds in to me being opinionated, as much as the extra yoga classes I am taking are taking me deep into the anger that has been stored deep in my hips all these years. None of this helped, or perhaps actually all of this has absolutely helped by the full moon that has shone a light into the shadows, that has highlighted the internal angst that has probably always been there but is now standing out.
Sometimes I feel sad, because I don’t want to live in a world like this, where I might be seen as the enemy. And then on the other hand, I feel incredibly happy because I see so much beauty in the world around me as I run around the lanes. All of this is OK. I know that. If there is one thing the Scaravelli-inspired yoga is teaching me, is the being OK with uncertainty, so that things are neither black nor white any more than they are right nor wrong.
Yet that’s so difficult when we have been conditioned to think that things have to be one way or the other, and that if they are not the way we want them to be then we automatically and quickly need to fix them or react to them or -tra la la- become opinionated about! This too I have had to work on and it has not been easy and is an ongoing process of letting go…
In our asana practice we thrive on a posture being practiced this way or that, we are attached to the form of it. Letting this go has not been easy. It’s also been totally mind-blowing to be guided to practice a posture in a completely different way to how I may have practiced it previously. I have been so conditioned over the years that I have to be so incredibly attentive to not move automatically and unconsciously in a way that I might have done so many times over the years.
I have been astounded time and time again to find that the very way I have always moved my body in postures has not only limited the range of movement and freedom of my spine in any posture, but has limited my mind too, made me stuck, fixed.. So now, my teacher showing me another way, has not only impacted on my body, but has impacted on my mind too, it’s been blown away. At times I’ve had to just lie there and let it settle in, thinking to myself, ‘my goodness, so in drawing the hand and foot together rather than pushing away from each other, I’ve actually experienced more ease and depth in that pose etc etc’.
It’s this perhaps that has been so mind blowing. The opposite of what we might have thought. How humbling is that to recognise that there are other ways than what we had fixed in our mind as being ‘the way’, and all this just from the way that we might practice a yoga posture. Again it comes back to perspective. Love or Fear. Do we practice lovingly, in towards the self, or do we push/pull away with fear outside of the self? I know which one has brought me the most contentment.
But oh so tricky to let go of what has always been and settle into the unknown territory that my teacher is taking me. And yet, I have recognised that the timing for this additional training has been a true gift, because if ever there was a time in life where we might need to settle into unknown territory then it is now. It’s not easy, it brings up all sorts of things, but what I have recognised is that it is a dance, a balance, a being OK with all the ranges and movements within it that helps us to step further into the heart and to compassion for self and others and to contentment.
I suspect compassion and contentment might be an antidote to fear. It might help to centre us and make us recognise that we have a choice about how we feel. I always remember someone telling me that even in prison, people cannot take away your freedom of mind, your freedom to choose the perspective that you adopt to approach your life. It’s not always easy, it’s very difficult at times, but it is insightful when we start to recognise the manner in which we are thrown off our balance, lose our centre and close down our hearts, so that we can become better at recognising it (the triggers) earlier the next time. Life is never certain.
I’m hopeful that as the sun continues to shine and nature continues to astound us in her beauty (now we have the time to recognise) the more comfortably we will be able to settle into the uncertainty that Covid-19 has brought with it, so that we may find our collective centre and let go of the fear that has been pervading society in recent weeks. Perhaps then we might find greater contentment. Personally I think reducing exposure to media, especially social media helps enormously with this!
The Blessings in the Curse
Now I’ve found my flow within this new reality that we find ourselves in, I have to admit that I am loving it. I appreciate that people are dying and are losing their jobs and others are unwell and separated from their families, yet I am grateful for this opportunity to shift how we are living and align to something slower paced instead.
In many respects I have been quite lucky as our lives were already lived relatively simply. I wasn’t going to an office and I wasn’t working full time, so being at home with the boys has not been a shock to my system as it would understandably have been for others – I am in awe at those attempting to work full time from home and school children all at the same time. It helps too that my parents are on hand by FaceTime to help with Elijah’s learning, and I have been grateful for their support.
But more than that, over the years of practising yoga, aspects of how my life used to be lived have dropped away, I don’t go out for dinner, or socialise with the girls beyond meeting for a sea swim, for example. I don’t go to the hairdresser regularly, or have my nails done. I don’t go shopping for clothes or for anything else beyond food if I can help it! I don’t go to the cinema or to the gym. I don’t really do very much when I think about it, beyond yoga, writing, cycling, going to the beach, and being with the children!
Of course there are things I miss, but the missing doesn’t feel as great as it did at the beginning, as I have let go a little of those attachments too. No doubt there will be more to let go of as this lockdown continues, but I’ve started to recognise more of the positives than the negatives and long may this continue! To be honest I have felt much more gratitude for all I have in my life, now, than I ever did previously and this in itself has been a positive, as are these:
· There is less rushing and for this I am eternally grateful! I have known for a while that I needed to slow my life down and stop with the rushing, especially rushing the children in and out of the door, and lockdown has achieved this for me. We no longer need to rush and life is so much easier!
· Time has taken on a whole new meaning. Aside from being on time for the yoga classes that I have scheduled, and the FaceTime sessions with my parents for Elijah’s home schooling, there is no need to be on time for anything else because we have no plans, we are able to just literally flow with where the energy takes us and that is extremely liberating.
· This means that we are able to drop more into the notion of there being no time or space, as we learn in Reiki Level Two, and I feel that this lockdown has allowed a greater lived sense of that. Time and space seems less of an obstacle as we connect over the internet regardless of space and time – one of my friends, Lottie, has been able to join some of the Facebook Live sessions with us from Australia, which is just wonderful.
· There has been greater connecting with people who are on my wave length, who I hadn’t had the opportunity to connect with previously. It’s as if a whole new world has opened up bringing with it lovely new connections. There’s also been a deepening in established connections, which has been wonderful too.
· The reduction in noise from the roads and the skies is a true joy and I can hear the bird song much clearer than previously and I’m slowly learning to recognise which bird song comes from which bird type!
· I also feel that I can see more clearly too, without all the traffic, and I actually stopped my bike the other day, when I was out cycling, to stare at the wonder which was someone else’s garden full of beautiful flowers blossoming.
· I feel like I can breathe more easily too, especially when I am out on my bike, the air just feels cleaner, like its filled with more prana, perhaps because it is spring and nature is abundant in energy.
· At times it feels as if the flowers on the hedgerows and cliffs and in the gardens are from another world as they look so stunning and so vibrant, with their bright colours, reminding me that nature is abundant in her beauty and is not scared to share with it others, so that we too can delight in it.
· Being more aware of what I am buying, and trying to make as many snacks as I can as well as cooking from scratch twice a day and having the time to be a little more adventurous than I might be normally.
· The opportunity to write - not least a little more time without the regular trips backwards and forwards to the school each day, but also the creative impulse, as if the time and the space and the extra yoga lessons that I have taken with my teacher have allowed me the opportunity to drop deeper into the creative.
· Extra yoga lessons with my teacher have been a joy as both of our schedules have eased and E is at home to help with the children.
· The time spent as a family. We were lucky as our lives allowed us a lot of family time previously, but now we have even more time together, and while this certainly brings with it its challenges (how can it not!), it has also been wonderful to be more involved in Elijah’s education, and witness more fully the mania of Eben!
· This has been another benefit, watching the children coming into their own, in their own ways. Elijah has never passionate about school and he is enjoying not having the pressure of that and he’s now stopped counting down to the weekend! He has enjoyed learning from home, and I have enjoyed being more involved in his learning so that we can celebrate his achievements together.
· While Eben has been a challenge at times because he just doesn’t understand the reason he can’t see my parents, and he misses his friends and pre-school, it has been lovely to see him thriving and wilding himself even more than usual.
· Watching the boys’ relationship develop. They are forced together for most of the day and they have thrived on this, playing in a way they have never played previously, and we are laughing more together as a family because of this. We’ve been grateful for the opportunity to walk a dog for another family, we love this dog and she has brought much joy to us as a family.
· This is the other thing, this wilding. The boys have always been a little wild and E and I too really, but now we can truly embrace this aspect of self, getting out into nature, wearing the same clothes more than once, and embracing the dirt!
· I’ve stopped being so obsessive about the cleanliness of the house. This is a big one for me as I am a bit OCD with cleaning as those who know me will agree, but I’ve let this go a little too, as I have re-prioritised my time, I’d rather be writing or playing outside with the boys than cleaning for the sake of it, hoorah for that!
· Creating a Reiki community, which is something I have always wanted to do but never had the time nor the idea of how I might make this happen. But it has happened all by itself and I look forward to the weekly Tuesday evening sessions so that we can connect through Zoom.
· Creating an online yoga community has been wonderful too, to stay connected and share yoga with others during this tricky time felt by many, especially those juggling a working schedule and home schooling children. It is a joy for me to teach yoga and I am grateful that I have been able to continue to do this and to share my passion to help and support others as yoga has helped and supported me enormously over the years and continues to do so.
· A depending connection to the Earth and to her ancient wisdom. I have even started planting seeds to attempt to grow medicinal herbs, something that has been on my mind for a while now, and I am hoping that they will be kind and grow for me and for me to share with you. A whole new world potentially awaits, let us see.
· Getting out running. I’m not a runner, I prefer swimming and cycling, but running has helped me to process my thoughts and all that is happening, it has given me the space to think about the book I am writing, it has helped me to notice the beauty of nature around me and to clear my head and enjoy some solitude away from the family.
· Having to face my long-held fear of IT and learning how to do online videos for myself, let alone sending out newsletters and doing minor updates to the website. It has been a teeny bit empowering and I hope I can continue to build on it. I am very grateful to Katie Bisson, my brother and Nicky Jenkins who have all helped in the background.
· I have had to face my fear of seeing myself on the screen! I employed Steph to film the videos on my website professionally, and so I have never watched them as she kindly did all the editing without needing my input, so I have avoided thus far seeing myself on them. However with Facebook Live and Zoom I get to see myself on the screen as they are recording and I have to admit that really it is no big deal, I wonder what all the fuss was about!
· I have had to look a little at my fear of my family getting ill or dying. I suspect I am still very much in denial about this as I comfort myself very quickly with thoughts of karma and our souls having their own journey. It’s a fear that I will one day have to overcome, but I’m hoping that now is not that time.
· I’m extremely grateful for my family and for my home, and for the land on which we live, and this beautiful Island on which I was born and the wonderful community we have. We are truly blessed.
· While it might sound as if it is all about me if my ramblings above are anything to go by, It is extremely humbling to recognise those who are deemed essential workers and those who are not. As a yoga teacher and Reiki practitioner, I am not deemed an essential worker, and nor would I have been if I had continued to work as a company secretary in the finance industry. There is a humility that accompanies this and it is my hope that greater respect is given for those key workers post-Covid, the ones who ensure that there is minimal disruption to the fundamentals of our ability to live, from those working at the docks, to those filling the shelves, from those caring for the elderly to those working in hospitals. Let us not forget.
· What I am loving the most is that this period is unprecedented, there is no guideline, no societal expectation on how we as a society or individually should behave or feel. I doubt there is a business model that can help guide businesses through this time with any certainty, we are all having to find a new way. This is extremely liberating not only in the moment, but also for the future of our society. We each have our own role to play in this, as part of the collective, to determine the kind of life we want to live post-Covid.
· My soul feels more at ease, it enjoys this gentler rhythm, the time to observe my breath, to feel a part of nature, and to be in the flow of it – helped enormously because it is spring time.
There are many other benefits too, in the wider world:
· Councils in the UK have been told to house homeless people, some are now even being housed at Heathrow.
· The population has renewed respect for health workers and those on the front line.
· Around the world, Seismologists are observing a lot less ambient seismic noise – meaning the vibrations generated by cars, trains, buses and people going about their daily lives has decreased. This means that the Earth’s upper crust is moving a little less and overall the Earth is currently a much quieter place to live than it was.
· There has already been a noticeable decrease in air pollution in some of the world’s most polluted cities.
· I read that even the Ganges is looking a little bit cleaner!
· People are coming together and helping their communities and especially the vulnerable within them.
· People are connecting across the internet, there is a sense of global solidarity.
I appreciate that there are many suffering because of fear about poor health and losing those they love, others fearful for the loss of the life they had previously enjoyed as more are made redundant or otherwise lose their jobs. Yet I know that every burden carries with it a blessing, it is the natural lore. So while it might feel chaotic and mad, once the turmoil has eased, the bigger picture will become much clearer.
We each have the opportunity now to re-assess our priorities and to really live and embody them, not just think about them, and then put the list back into the drawer until we have more time in our lives. That time is now. If ever there was a time. It might still feel crazy and messy, but every ending feels this way, and we should take comfort in the thought of the peaceful and more aligned new beginnings ahead, we just have to trust and keep letting go into the flow.
I hope that this time is kind to you and that you are able to be kind to yourself too. If ever there was a time for kindness and compassion then it is also now. Every now. But especially this now.
Lots of love xxx
The letting go into the flow
It’s funny the things that tip you over an edge that you didn’t even realise was there.
A few days before the Sark retreat, which was a week before we started social distancing, which was a few days before lock-down (funny how dates have lost all significance, I just think of life in chunks now, this chunk before this happened and that chunk before that happened…) the boiler overheated and boiling hot water burst through the system and caused some hot water pipes to split.
There we were, the boys and I eating breakfast, aware of Ewan moving upstairs when all of a sudden there was a tremendous noise and steam coming down the stairs and through the ceiling in the hallway, closely followed by a whole heap of water pouring out too. This set the smoke alarms off and all this, the noise, the steam and the water before 7.30am on a Wednesday morning.
A few hours later, the plumber trying to fix the problem, the water switched off, the last of the water now trickling down one of the kitchen’s walls, and stuff everywhere, I escaped into our small wing to make a cup of tea and try and get some peace. Here I opened the door to one of the cupboards to get a cup only to find myself staring at a mouse. I don’t think I have moved so quickly in my life!
I leapt onto the sofa and screamed for Ewan. A mouse! Our lodger who stays in the wing from time to time had told us only days earlier that she thought she’d heard mice. We had tentatively placed some humane traps in the wing, hopeful that she was confusing the noise of mice, for the noise of seagulls on the roof. But alas not. We really did have mice. This on top of the ants which move in each equinox, twice a year, for a few weeks of distraction, before they totter off again.
There was a lesson in all this though, one of preparing us for what lay ahead, with the ability to live within chaos (and me with my OCD for cleaning!) and go with the flow. Also, to reflect on killing, which makes me so uncomfortable with the whole non-harming, ahimsa thing, and having to face this, and embrace the aspect of self that is OK with killing, when it comes to not having mice and ants living in the cottage, and yet knowing that ideally I’d live to find a way to live harmoniously.
This followed a few days later by the Sark retreat, which was wonderful in its usual way, Sark holds us so gently and energises us and makes us feel whole again. Yet this retreat challenged a little by all the last minute cancellations, as people quite understandably explored what felt right for them with the Coronavirus looming over us, and the fear so great. If ever there is a time to respect other’s decisions then it is now, only we can ever know what feels right for us, our families and our interaction with society – it’s a shame that our opinion is challenged though.
The fear felt very real that first night, it was hanging in the yoga room, and yet this eased enormously as the weekend continued and we connected increasingly so with the heart and the self, deep inside, and the sense that ultimately, on some level we might never truly understand, all is well. That was, until the Sunday morning and the preparations to return to Guernsey and the fear returned as word came that we might have school closures and lock down ahead. We, as a family, decided to stay on, to make the most of the freedom of Sark and I’m delighted we did.
Back home, life was a different normal, both boys had runny noses so no school, and just as I was about to teach the Friday morning class, word came that the schools were closing so with that the decision was made. It was time to adjust. I couldn’t face the thought of not teaching at all, I wondered how that might affect my sanity, being that teaching yoga is one of my favourite things in the whole wide world, beyond my family and swimming and lying in a bath. So I adjusted and went online and hoped that this may help others as much as it might help me, to just keep going.
All was well. The home schooling. The steep learning curve of how to run online classes and make people aware that they are happening. The embracing of the fear of IT and doing it anyway. The adjusting to life lived mainly at home and more time with the children without parental help, which is lovely on the one hand and slightly maddening on the other. The getting used to never having quite what you need in the house and no longer being able to just nip to the shops. Longing for a swim at the Grande Mare but knowing that summer is not far away and more sea swimming ahead, and yet it’s not quite the same.
It was all going OK. I was doing OK. A few wobbles. Shopping has become uncomfortable, not for me the risk of contracting Covid-19 but the manner in which people are so edgy and some friendly and others just really unpleasant. Then the time away from home and the exercising being OK, the children needing to run off some steam, but should we be on the beach, but knowing we might all go mad otherwise without the sea energy cleansing us. Not being able to see my parents and explaining to the children the reason they can’t see Ganny and Baba either (“will we have the bug for long” my 3-year old asked, which almost broke my heart. “It’s not you sweetie”, I tried to explain, “there’s nothing wrong with you…”).
The sleep deprivation and wilful moments continue anon with the 3-year old, while the 6-year old is enjoying the break from school and trying to get him to do any school work is tough, but it’s like this normally, we’re used to it. This all carries on. The washing, the cleaning, the shopping, the endless requests for snacks, the endless tidying of the house (why do we bother?). It’s all just going on. But there’s something going on out there too. In the bigger sphere, beyond our cottage that had me a little edgy on Saturday.
I awoke that morning with an underlying feeling of anxiety, which comes only occasionally, when something is shifting and I can’t quite put my finger on it. Even a swim in the sea wouldn’t clear it, so I concluded that it must be in the collective, that others would likely be feeling the same. So I decided I would teach an impromptu short class because if there’s one thing I need when I feel like this, it’s yoga!
Before then I had a class by zoom with my teacher, which was stressful initially because the WIFI kept dropping out, but we found a way, using my phone, which worked. And it was reassuring and beautiful and eased some of the agitation, as we dropped into the breath and into the idea of contentment, that is neither happiness or sadness but something really rather different. This was a spin though, the practice itself affected me, made me think about things differently. The idea that we should find contentment in everything, is this part of the lesson, the awakening, the shift occurring?
I’m pretty sure it is, because as if to test it, I was forced only a few hours later to see if I could find contentment when things didn’t go the way I intended. During the impromptu class that I desperately wanted to teach, to connect with others and come together energetically, the WIFI kept dropping out making me realise that I had no control over anything, not the WIFI certainly and therefore not the ability to teach either.
This saddened me and tipped me to an edge. If there’s one thing that triggers me it is IT and it is feeling out of control with it. My response is always to get angry at myself for not understanding the world of IT better, and yet I know too that this is such an old pattern that it is laughable, as it achieves nothing. But triggered I was anyway. I desperately searched my mind for another way, how could I overcome this obstacle of the WIFI dropping out all the time. There was some grasping that’s for sure, I just couldn’t let it go, there had to be a way.
But this was just the test of the awakening that we are all being forced to go through. The patterns are popping up left, right and centre. We are being encouraged to let go, and let go all over again. Let go of the life we were living, let go of the idea of the life we want to be living, let go of dreams, let go of plans, let go of knowing what lies ahead, let go of any sense of being in control of our destiny and our day to day reality.
It wasn’t until later though, that I saw the bigger picture and recognised what I had been doing. That in my effort to maintain some semblance of normality and in my quest to do what I felt I could to help people, and to help myself in the process, I was holding on very tightly to the idea of teaching, having found a way to continue doing this. The trouble was I was holding on too tightly, as if my very happiness depended on it, and in the process, when things didn’t go my way, like with the WIFI, I was suffering.
There is only one way and that is to go with the flow of things. I learned this with both of my boys’ births. There is no other way, because to try and push against the flow is just futile and exhausting. And yet letting go into the flow of things is always so tricky, because it involved a surrendering of everything that’s been and a trust that the flow will take us where we need to go instead. I’ve no idea why we doubt this though, because where else can it take us?
Yet it wasn’t this that caused me to lose it, not really. It was the bit that led me to the edge so that later I might see my patterns more clearly, of the pattern I create around not feeling in control and not getting my own way. The manner in which this allows me to buy into feelings of hopelessness and helplessness and gives rise to a momentary depression.
It also wasn’t my youngest’s manic behaviour that found him uncontrollable and E and I resigned to it, triggered in our own ways, it wasn’t even realising that I had given the humous I had intended to eat for dinner away to my Mum in error and that I couldn’t just nip to the shop to buy a new one, it wasn’t even the weather and the fact I was so cold because this really does feel like the never ending winter. If truth be told it was the bath. Yes, the bath.
The bath tipped me over an edge that everything else had helped prod me towards the moment where I just gave up and just felt desperately sorry for myself! I wanted a bath! More than anything else. I’m sorry that this makes me sound really selfish when people are dying and others are making huge sacrifices to look after those in hospital, and there are those putting themselves on the front line to serve us in shops and make sure that we don’t go hungry (I do get a lump in my throat every time I thank them when I have finished my shopping).
But the truth is, sometimes it’s the little things. I love a bath. I love lying in the bath reading a book, lying in the bath to warm up after a swim, lying in the bath with the children at the end of the day, just lying in a bath to process things. It was like the final straw and I can’t even really blame it on Coronavirus, other than the fact the plumber needs some parts to re-install it post flood, and the virus has complicated that. It’s just the simple fact that having a bath makes me feel better and I really miss it.
It was this that caused me to finally succumb to all the holding of, of not letting go of what had been and of trying to control things. It was the little old bath that helped me to release all that I had been unable to release and to see more clearly patterns that no longer served me. Phew.
But I know this is not just about me and it is for this reason that I am sharing. I am aware that we are all going through this. We are all being triggered and asked to dig deeper and see more clearly that which we no longer need. We are all feeling the loss of the life we lived, all missing something, however small and seemingly insignificant. We are right in it. In the shift. Where it is desperately uncomfortable as the old has to drop away and yet we don’t know where we are headed or what the new life might offer us in terms of security and protection.
It’s like the leap of faith, we are all being asked to make. Without any future certainty. It’s scary, and yet those of us who have leapt previously, know that it is always lighter on the other side. But the process, the surrendering is always messy and there will always come a tipping point that will cause us to – finally – surrender into it.
I don’t know where it is all going, or when I will next get a bath, or whether I will be able to continue teaching yoga online with the WIFI as it currently is, but today I’m OK with that. Today I feel as I have weathered a storm and come through the other side, less attached to trying to control the outcome or control which direction life may unfold. Because none of us are in control and more fool us for thinking – ever thinking – that we are.
This is a time to stay strong in our faith that everything happens for a reason, that we need to just keep on keeping on with the being, come what may. That it is OK to feel whatever we are feeling, to embrace all the range of emotions as they move through us because this too is part of the collective awakening. There is a bigger picture. We are not in this alone. We each have a role to play, and we will find a way. It is in our hearts. We already know this.
My beautiful friend sent me this poem today that is absolutely appropriate:
Always we hope
Someone else has the answer…
At the center of your being
You have the answer,
You know who you are
And you know what you want.
There is no need
To run outside
For better seeing.
Nor to peer from a window.
Rather abide at the center of your being;
For the more you leave it, the less you learn.
Search your heart
And see
The way to do
Is to be.
- Lao Tzu
Surrendering to Yoga
Yesterday I was in overwhelm. Overwhelm at the thought of not being able to teach yoga or share Reiki. Overwhelm at the thought of not being able to touch anyone. Overwhelm at the idea of not being able to earn any money to help support my family. Overwhelm at the idea of home schooling/unschooling my children and at the sheer volume of people sharing home schooling content (thank you but enough already!). Overwhelm at the fast pace in which events are unfolding, and not being able to keep on top of it or process it properly. And overwhelm at the effect on children/loved ones and the wider community.
I wanted to understand and I had questions that couldn’t be answered, about the approach being taken by government and exit strategies and the manner in which decisions impact on everyone. I wanted certainty, of outcome, of knowing. I found myself reflecting, for example, on the irony, of how, in an effort to protect the vulnerable from suffering, many more end up suffering and feeling vulnerable – but this I know is karma in action, every action has a consequence, even well intended action.
I was torn on my perspective and feeling both compassion and anger all at the same time. It was like being in a washing machine of shifting emotions. Needless to say I went to bed last night with both a heavy heart, grieving all that had been, and feeling exhausted from trying to stay positive when there is so much fear pervading the world. I also felt helpless to do anything positive to help and a little purposeless as a result. There was a real sense of endings, with no clear idea of the new beginnings and my role in this.
Today I feel very differently. The Spring Equinox has ushered in a wave of clarity and positive energy, and there has been a surrendering to, and acceptance of our current situation. I am very aware that we are all facing the collective shadows, of fear of dying and fear of not having enough money to survive. It’s our survival that is being tested on every level. Yet what have we to lose?
For many it feels that we are losing everything we have ever known, our jobs, our businesses, our homes, the life that we had created thus far. Yet there is the concept of Samsara, first expressed in the Upanishads 3,500 years ago, the idea of the cycle of reincarnation, a continuous spin of birth and death as the soul completes its time in one form before taking on another.
Whether or not you actually believe in reincarnation, there is a lesson that can be learned from the concept of samsara itself – everything is continuously changing. During the course of our lives we will birth/create and let go of many identities, stages of life, relationships, ideas, beliefs and goals. We are continuously coming into new forms and ways of being again and again. Understanding and appreciating samsara as a natural and necessary process can be comforting at times like this, when we go through periods of (intense) transition.
In theory these are the periods of illumination that encourage us to grow. The more we settle into these moments of great change and uncertainty, the more comfortable we can become in the big-shift feelings that accompany them – albeit the feelings of anxiety, fear, sadness that accompany the letting go into the unknown and uncertainty can be utterly overwhelming.
I am reminded too of Isvara Pranidhara, the last of the five niyamas, or inner practices of Patanjali’s Yoga Sutra, meaning ‘surrender to a higher power’. This is not a process of defeat or of mindlessly submitting to another’s will, but the act of giving ourselves over to a higher purpose. It is about accepting what cannot change and acknowledging that we are not entirely masters of our own fate. In surrendering to something greater (of which we are a part – the collective consciousness), and letting go we open ourselves up to the potential of greater peace, love and freedom of mind.
I realise that yesterday I was very much stuck in my own ego and false sense of loss, whereas today (and long may it continue) the shifting energy has helped me to recognise that this is absolutely not about me! We are all affected and we all have a role to play. This is dharma, another of the concepts discussed in the Upanishads. Depending on our innate disposition or nature, each of us has been assigned (or has chosen) a role to play in this lifetime. It is our duty and responsibility to play our role to the best of our potential, getting on with it, uncomplaining, without hankering after someone else’s.
Life will never be quite the same again. Just like the body gives us signs before dis-ease manifests as illness, so too the universe has been prodding us, trying to get our attention. There have been financial crises encouraging us to live within our means, changing weather patterns showing us that all is not well up there in the atmosphere, and our own collective loss of mental wellbeing, indicating that as a specie we are not well either. We need to pull together to find a new way forward, living our dharma!
I feel that it is more important than ever to keep sharing yoga and Reiki with you and I am proposing this schedule next week:
Sunday 22 March 2020, 9.30-10.30am - Free Yoni Yoga for the ladies. This is a deeply nourishing and feminine approach to practice, with a guided Yoga Nidra, perfect for Mother’s Day. Facebook Live.
Monday 23 March 2020, 10-10.15/20am – Free Children’s Yoga. Let’s give it a whirl, Elijah might help me! Facebook Live. Depending on how the children find it, I’ll offer more.
Monday 23 March 2020, 6.15-7.30pm – Free Hatha Yoga class with Yoga Nidra. Zoom. You will need to sign up as a participant for Zoom, which is free. I will post further instructions, this will be a learning curve for me too!
Tuesday 24 March 2020, 8.30-9pm – Free group new moon meditation/Reiki share. We’ll try and do this on Zoom. We’ll breath together and prepare to sit and meditate on new moon energy, while sending distance Reiki for those Reiki attuned, and to each other within the group.
Wednesday 25 March 2020, 7.30-8.15 am – Free Hatha Yoga class. Facebook live.
Thursday 26 March 2020, 6-7pm – Hatha Yoga class, Zoom, £10 to join the session, email me to join and I will provide the link and payment details. You will need to sign up as a participant for Zoom, which is free.
Friday 27 March 2020, 9.30-10.45am – Hatha Yoga class with Yoga Nidra, Zoom, £10 to join the session, email me to join and I will provide the link and payment details. You will need to sign up as a participant for Zoom, which is free.
This is all subject to change, if there’s one thing we are learning, it is flexibility and going with the flow.
Love Emma x
P.S. Please do check the blog and Facebook for updates!
The light is never far away from the dark
If ever there was a time to settle into the light then it is now; as so many are overwhelmed and suffering, being forced to face their deepest fears.
It is a turbulent time of change and upheaval on Mother Earth, and I feel it is more important than ever to hold space for those who wish to connect to their inner light and wisdom, pouring love out into the world and raising vibration through yoga and Reiki classes.
I’m writing this while on retreat on Sark, where the energy of fear has yet to appear and we are able to settle into our centre more easily. While others may feel differently, this is a heartfelt choice for me right now, although may well change as events unfold.
On Saturday, I was cycling down Sark’s high street, trying to think what I might write to those who attend class when I felt an overwhelming need to visit the local charity shop, which I’ve wanted to do for years. In here, I was immediately drawn to the book section where a book, “The Game of Life and How to Play It” by Florence Shinn caught my attention. I opened the book by chance on page 51 and there in front of me were written these exact words:
“Perhaps one’s fear is of disease or germs. Then one should be fearless and undisturbed in a germ-laden situation, and he would be immune. One can only contract germs while vibrating at the same rate as the germ, and fear drags men down to the level of the germ”.
Then later, at class, a particular poem caught my attention that I felt absolutely had to be shared:
The Choice for Love
What does the voice of fear
Whisper to you?
Fear speaks to you
In logic and reason.
It assumes the language
Of love itself.
Fear tells you,
“I want to make you safe”
Love says
“You are safe”.
Fear says
“Give me symbols.
Give me frozen images.
Give me something
I can rely on”
Loving truth says
“Only give me
This moment”
Fear would walk you
On a narrow path
Promising to take you
Where you want to go.
Love says,
“Open your arms
And fly with me.”
Every moment of your life
You are offered the opportunity
To choose-
Love or fear,
To tread the earth
Or to soar to the heavens.
If ever there was a time to accept the universal order, which only appears to be chaotic and ever-changing, then it is now. Regardless of what life throws at us, individually or globally, the dance of the universe is a happy one. We should nor fear the change or the loss – from darkness comes light.
This is an opportunity to put into practice all we have learned on our spiritual journey thus far:
To stay centred through great confusion.
To go with the flow, not sweating the small stuff.
To develop a forgiving heart if someone has caused us harm.
Accepting life as it unfolds, however uncomfortable.
Finding the courage to live from our hearts and our deepest truth, even if that goes against what is expected of us by others.
Letting go of judgments and feeling compassion instead for those who have made different choices to our own.
Sending love and light to all those suffering, especially those who judge and criticise us for the choices we have made.
Love Emma x
Ten years of sea swimming - the joy!
As I approach the ten year anniversary of all-year around sea swimming, I can’t help thinking how much life has changed, so that sea swimming has become normalised (as has chakras and crystals), which can only be a good thing.
Even doctors are nowadays prescribing sea swimming for depression as a friend of mine recently discovered. It was a bout of depression and anxiety that initially brought me to all-year around sea swimming. Depression was familiar, but anxiety was new to me and I was gripped by a ridiculous fear of leaving the house and was weepy and emotional, slightly paranoid too.
I’d been overworking, teaching too much yoga and channelling too much Reiki without protecting myself properly or establishing good boundaries. It was a lesson learned. But nonetheless at the time, it was a little traumatic as I wasn’t familiar with the intensity of the feelings of anxiety and fear of leaving the house.
I stopped working, I had no choice, and took myself off to the doctor who referred me to the local mental health service for CBT. She prescribed Prozac too, but as with previous prescriptions for this drug, I knew that the pharmaceutical route was not for me, depression in my experience is a depression of the soul and this was a wake-up call; I wasn’t listening to my heart, or honouring my soul; my spirit was low.
One of my friend’s, who had a history of depression, invited me to join her sea-swimming, she said that it has really helped her when she was feeling low. I was aware by then of the healing power of nature, and E had encouraged me into the garden, and at the advice of my Ayurvedic doctor I was getting my hands in the earth and weeding – as if weeding out the weeds that were causing my depression, my inability to access the light. I was keen to try sea swimming and appreciated my friend’s support.
I’d been an avid surfer during my teenage years so was frequently in the sea all-year around, albeit in a wet suit. During my twenties, while I had stopped surfing by then, I hung out with a group of friends who were passionate about the sea and we’d frequently do the ‘weaver run’, often on our walk home late at night from the Rockmount, either at Cobo or Vazon. This involved removing our clothes and running as fast as we could into the sea at low tide, risking a weaver fish sting!
We’d also meet regularly after work during the summer months to swim at ‘Barnacle Point’ off Albecq or from the rocks near Fort Houmet, eager to connect with the sea after a day spent sat in soul-less offices. Towards the end of my twenties, I started travelling regularly, to Australia mainly, to undertake my yoga training, and I’d swim every day in the sea. Back home in Guernsey though, I might go a few times during the summer, but I didn’t make a habit of it.
So now I was keen to see how connecting with the sea might make me feel. My friend collected me one mid-morning and drove us to Petit Bot, where we were the only people on the beach. It was this that positively affected me as much as the sea swim. I was so used to working during every hour that I had available to me, that I rarely took time to get out during the day time, and it felt odd, like a whole new reality was presenting itself to me – one where you allowed yourself to go to the beach during ‘normal’ working hours and do something for yourself, namely swim!
The swim itself was amazing. For the first time in days I wasn’t pre-occupied by the stomach churning anxiety and emotional sensitivity that this brought with it. Instead, I experienced myself very much in the present moment, of being shocked awake in the freezing cold sea! I couldn’t believe how much better I felt afterwards, as if something had literally been awoken in me; my mind calmer, my body more grounded than it had been for a long time, my energy cleansed, and my soul nourished by this interaction with Mother Nature.
I was hooked almost immediately and haven’t looked back since. I took a few months off from working, and went sea swimming daily, either with my friend, and the other ladies who swam at Petit Bot at that time, or with E watching from the beach. My mental wellbeing improved significantly during this period, and I always accredit sea swimming for this.
Not only did the physical act of getting in cold water help to ground me in the present (and therefore ease the anxiety and depression) but it also helped me to look at my life and re-prioritise the way that I was living it, with daily sea swimming becoming an essential part of this. It created a shift in my perspective too, and I started to feel joy again, how could I not, as I took in the beach and the sea and the sky above; a true blessing and I started to feel gratitude again – my thoughts became more positive.
It took him a while but a year later, in the following March, E started swimming regularly with me and hasn’t stopped since. This began our mutual love of Petit Bot and we have swum there regularly ever since, sometimes daily depending on our schedules and the extent of the shore break, which seems to have gotten worse over the years!
I swam in the sea throughout both my pregnancies, swimming the day before both boys were born. I was back in the sea as soon as I was out of hospital too, albeit I wasn’t able to swim as I had to have Caesarean sections for each of them. I wasn’t meant to be submerged in water, but I just needed to cleanse my energy and stand in the sea up to my waist, feeling its coolness and hearing its sounds; grounding and soothing after the trauma of birth!
Both our boys, Elijah and Eben, have fairly much grown up at Petit Bot! I remember the first time we took Elijah, fresh out of hospital and both of us going into the sea at the same time, as we’d done so many times previously, him in his car seat sat up on the pebbles at the top of the beach. We suddenly realised that this probably wasn’t appropriate, a helpless baby left on his own on the beach. It was just such a bizarre concept for us both, and this began our tag team effort, taking it in turns to swim ever since.
We’ve many photos of the boys on Petit Bot in various stages of development, car seats to crawling, toddling to running, and now climbing the rocks! We’ve seen the beach at all stages of tide, in all weathers and all times of the year; we know it well and love it dearly, there’s something special about knowing a beach. Our favourite time of year is October, when the summer visitors have left and the dog walkers are yet to arrive; we’re pretty much guaranteed to have it to ourselves. But we do have it to ourselves a lot of the time, especially early in the morning, and we’re always grateful for this.
We were tickled last year to be gifted, quite by chance, a Guernsey calendar, and were quite surprised to find a photo of us for the month of January (the person who gave the calendar to us didn’t realise this!). I contacted the photographer and she said she had met a friend at Petit Bot the previous January and had seen us walking down the beach, me carrying Eben in a car seat, and Elijah and E walking beside me, about to go for a swim, and thought it looked a lovely family scene. She kindly gave us a copy of the photograph, which I’ve posted above.
Growing up on the West coast of Guernsey and spending much of my time on Vazon beach, knowing that beach like a second home, it has been lovely getting to know more of the South coast of this stunning Island I’m lucky to call home. More recently I’ve been swimming at Saints with a small group of ladies, perhaps three or four times a week, on the way to drop Elijah to school in the morning – he loves it as he can climb the rocks and get some fresh air before going in the classroom.
This has added a whole new dimension to sea swimming, allowing me to connect with another beach, and one that needs to be approached on foot (or bike in our case) so is even more private than Petit Bot, attracting a couple of other sea swimming groups; the sunrise can be spectacular in the winter months. Also, it has caused me to develop a beautiful relationship with the other ladies, brought together by our love of sea swimming and spending time outdoors in nature.
We might swim at Fermain sometimes too, especially on a full moon, where we howl at her rising ahead of us, sometimes skinny dipping, sometimes not. I have to say though, that this is my favourite way to sea swim, it doesn’t get more natural and uplifting than skinny dipping and winter is the best time for this, at least you’re less likely to bump into anyone else coming to the beach!
I should make the point though, that these days I’m rarely in the sea for long. I used to swim maybe 5-10 minutes or so in the winter months, but a few years ago I started to get really cold afterwards, not helped because I was in the midst of sleep deprivation and just found it was taking me all day to warm up, not so pleasant. These days, especially in February, I might only be in for a minute or two at most, but even this makes me feel better, and well worth the traipse down to the beach and back up.
I can’t imagine our lives without sea swimming now, it’s become a part of our life, something that we make time to do, which will often determine the rest of our schedule, especially on the weekends. It’s the first thing we do when we have been away from the Island, getting our fix of Guernsey sea on our skin, and a definite if I have been working energetically with people and need to cleanse. It’s amazing and I’m always keen to introduce others to sea swimming so they may feel the benefits for themselves.
The benefits of sea swimming for me:
· Cleansing my energy;
· Grounding me in the moment - you don’t think about much else when you’re in the sea, other than how cold it is, how long you might stay in and whether you’ll get caught by the waves.
· Energising me.
· Connecting me to nature so that I notice the tides, sunrise and sunset, and seasonal and moon cycles.
· Feeling like you’re getting away from the rest of the world.
· Slows life down, you can’t possibly be rushing or stressed on the beach.
· Listening to the sound of the sea and watching the waves, both of which I find soothing for the soul.
· Shifting a bad mood!
· Raising the spirits and easing any depression
· Reducing anxiety by the connection of feet literally to the earth (well sand really, but you know what I mean) and the sensation of the cold water on skin, getting you out of your head and into your body.
· Strengthening your immune system – I’m not sure how that works, but I’m pretty sure that sea swimming plays a role in me rarely being ill, I’ve not had a single cold yet this winter (touch wood!).
· The special relationship you create with other sea swimmers as you share this mutual love for the sea.
· It’s free, and the very act of getting onto the beach and getting into the sea and having a little swim is good for your general fitness.
· It has strengthened my connection to Guernsey and helped me to feel extremely grateful for living on this beautiful Islands.
· It makes me feel alive and happy.
The electric cargo bike and my increased wellbeing!
Investing in our electric cargo bike was a life changing moment for me towards the end of 2019, because little did I realise at the time how much I was positively investing into my general wellbeing.
2019 was a tough year, and I wasn’t feeling my most positive in autumn, when a bright orange electric cargo bike caught my attention from the window of our local bike shop.
I had been cycling my eldest son, Elijah (who is 6 years old), to school on my non-electric mountain bike, pulling him in a trailer behind me, but this was becoming increasingly hard work physically. We live at the top of a hill, and while the school is only 6 minutes away by car, or 10 minutes by bike, I was growing weary of the journey, sometimes repeated three times a day as Elijah comes home for lunch.
As the weather grew colder, drearier and wetter, the less inclined I was to use my mountain bike and trailer, and the more I started driving instead. But this made me miserable, not least because parking around the school can be challenging, and the traffic is sometimes a little testing too (by Guernsey standards!), but because I missed the fresh air and exercise. I’m also conscious of the environmental impact of using the car and this depressed me!
The electric cargo bike seemed to call to me from my car every time I drove past the bike shop, and before I thought about it too much, I booked to hire it for a few days, to see how it might work for us. It worked well! We loved it! I was amazed how much better it made me feel, and now that I had the electric motor I had absolutely no excuse not to use it regardless of the weathers – the wetter the better, because it made the experience even more fun!
Despite the cost, I therefore had no hesitation in ordering one and I haven’t looked back since! I think everyone should have one, especially here on Guernsey, because they are almost made for Island living.
These are the other reasons I love our bike:
They help you to get really fit. For me the bike is a mode of transport as opposed to an opportunity for ‘exercise’ and yet the by-product of using it all the time is that I’ve gotten fit. Some people believe electric bikes are just for old people and don’t think you have to put in any effort. Wrong! You can make it as challenging as you like, you just turn off the electric motor, but even with it on, you still have to peddle!
We can easily nip down to Saints Bay for a play on the beach/sea swim before school, without having to worry about parking, before zooming back up the hill (yes, all three of us up Saints hill, no problem) to the school, and again no parking issues.
I feel even more connected to nature than I did previously, and on the days that I have no cause to use the bike, I try and find any excuse I can to get out on it, even if it is just to nip to the shop, to get some fresh air and have the opportunity to notice the changing skies and landscape.
Talking of which, we shop on the bike too, because it has huge paniers than we can fill with a whole family’s worth of shopping. We can also fill it with a plethora of beach toys when we go down to the beach.
I can even use the bike to get to yoga classes, filling the panniers and the cargo bit with bags of props and mats, absolutely no problem.
The front and back lights are really strong and I have no qualms cycling at night, with or without the children, I’ve done both, and it’s really rather lovely because we look for owls and watch the stars and the moon, and we’ve even cycled at night in the pouring rain too.
In the long run I have no doubt it will be saving me money. It doesn’t cost much by way of electricity to charge the battery (you’ve just got to remember to charge it otherwise it is a challenging cycle, especially with two children on the back!) and I am saving myself my previously weekly petrol bill.
I use the cargo bike on journeys I might not have used for my non electric bike previously. I think nothing of using this one to whizz to my parents, or down into town, or out to the cliffs. I now choose the bike over the car. I used to love driving but not anymore!
My stress levels have reduced significantly, not least from the exercising and fresh air (and being in nature), but from not having to drive (this elevates my stress levels!) and not having to get my children into their car seats, especially my youngest, which used to be a daily battle and often meant that we were then rushing to get to school or appointments on time.
My overall sense of wellbeing has increased. I feel so much better within myself because of the manner in which it has positively affected my mental wellbeing and lifted my previous depression (at the thought of the school run). It’s like sea swimming, just makes you feel better, more positive somehow.
Peace! It’s peaceful on the bike. No radio, no Dirty Bertie or Percy Park Keeper audios, no children bickering or moaning. You get to hear the sounds of nature, the bird song, water in the streams on the way down to Saints or Petit Bot, for example. Admittedly there’s still the sounds of the traffic, but when you get off the main roads this quietens.
The bike is better for the environment than using a car and is teaching my children about other modes of transport available to them.
Using the bike helps to calm the general traffic so other road users benefit (studies have shown that bikes on the roads help to calm the traffic and make the roads safer for cyclists to use).
We notice the litter much more now and have started going wombling to collect the litter. I never used to notice it when I was in the car, or at least, I might notice it but do nothing about it. Now I feel a need to do something about it. [Look out for details of our next collective wombling session by the way, let’s clean up this island together, collectively!]
It’s so much fun! We absolutely enjoy going out on the bikes. The boys will choose the bike over the car. Using the bike makes us all happy and there is no doubt that it increases our general sense of wellbeing.
The reasons we don’t like the bike:
None! We love the bike!