The value in the struggle of therapy.
That is perhaps the first struggle of any type of psychotherapy or deep internal work; the anxiety and fear. It is confronting to walk into a room knowing I am going to be asked to face up to my true self and explore my deepest reality. Sure I could hide behind the masks I have been crafting for years, but that would negate the reason for being there in the first place. Instead I have learned to see the anxiety for what it is; a positive. It is a sign that what I am doing means something to me, and is important. If I didn't have a sense of anxiety before being in a situation that evokes such powerful feelings of vulnerability and pain, I would say either the walls I have up are so thick I have even myself fooled, or I have somehow become so wise and content that I have nothing internal worth working through. Thankfully, I am years beyond my protective layer being thick enough to fool myself, but I am also many lifetimes away from having nothing internal I can do to improve my wellbeing.
When each day became a gift.
Total: 15.2km in 60 mins. 38 laps of a track. In the middle parts of the workout where the speeds were fastest, I hit an 18:25 5km split, a 38:19 10km split, and a 59:15 15km. 12 months ago my PB's over those distances in races weren't even that fast; let alone at 30 degrees celsius, 3000m altitude, at night, alone, on a treadmill. I lie back and shut my eyes, trying to take in the moment of again realising that after all the doubts and fears going into this session, I am again more capable that I realised. The only reason I now know that, is because I threw caution to the wind and had a crack. A tear comes to my eyes as the exhausted relief sets in, and I make the connection that right now, in my day to day being and doing, I am genuinely living the life my 8 year old self dreamed of.
A day in the life of a carer.
Some of the best advice I got was to speak of my child and the illness separately. Her illness didn’t define her, and it was the illness, not her, who was wreaking havoc with our lives. Our beautiful daughter Simone was still here. Our job was to love and care for her while we battled this illness together. It is a long journey and definitely a dirt road with many pot poles and dead ends. My hope and prayer that sustained me was that each day we battled through with Simone was another day with her still here, and another day closer to beating this damn thing!
The healing power of movement.
I feel the bay air across my body and the thud of my feet on the footpath. The way my breath naturally reaches a rhythmic equilibrium calms me. But the most amazing thing I have found about being in motion, is the way my mind is able to become more empty than I can ever remember it being in my entire life.