Day 117

In an effort to keep on top of my wellbeing, I have tried out a few new activities over the past couple of weeks:

A “Shake It Off” session was invigorating and fun and I could actually feel myself loosening up and the energy rising. It was fairly gentle, exercise-wise, but I could feel my heart pumping that little bit faster. A great way to spend my lunchbreak, prepping me for the afternoon ahead!

“Mindful Eating” taught me to enjoy and appreciate my food with every bite. It just felt a little awkward participating in a group activity, licking and sniffing my morsel, when my food was a quorn sausage….

Meditation has been a lovely way to wind down and relax, which is perfect for an after-work segway into home life. It also doesn’t take a lot of physical skill or co-ordination, which I lack in volumes.

Hence my confidence to try a Zumba session from my living room, where no one else could witness the wanton flailing of arms and back fat (sidenote: is Big Brother watching through my laptop/ipad/Amazon Echo?!). It was so fun! I particularly liked the fact that the music changed up every five or so minutes, as I have a waning attention span when it comes to exercise of any sort. One song in and I was sweating and laughing at myself, completely knackered, so when the sound cut out after fifteen minutes, I took that as a sign to stop for lunch and cake.

And finally, today I visited the quirky and gorgeous Gaunts House, near Wimborne. I was lucky enough to gain a free place for a Gong Bath session and was very excited! I have experienced a gong bath before, but it was not the most enjoyable time: I was laying top-to-toe with a large group of strangers, packed in to a – albeit beautifully decorated with candles and fairy lights – stuffy room.  The acoustics were not ideal and the reverberations made me feel as though I was trapped underwater.

So, why put yourself through it again, you might ask. Well, this was to be a completely different experience! But first, let me tell you about my hellish journey….

I had spent a fabulous Saturday evening camping with friends – socially distanced of course – drinking gin, walking in the wilderness, chatting and playing games. I had purchased a couple of pre-lockdown games, one of which was called “Five Second Rule”.   This has nothing to do with eating food from the floor, I can assure you, you just have to name three things within the time limit. My friend picked a card and asked Darren to “name three shopping destinations” and he very quickly responded: “Paris” (impressive!) “Lakeside” (who knew?!) “and…Butlins!” cue laughter and confusion and absolutely no explanation.

Anyway.

The next morning, after a quick tidy and a breakfast bacon roll, Darren and I made our way home, allowing plenty of time to unpack the van and grab a change of clothes for our separate activities. My destination was thirty minutes away and I had planned to leave a few minutes earlier than I needed to.  However, we got chatting to the neighbours and so I ended up leaving at exactly 12pm, giving me half an hour to reach my friend. I got into the car and put the address in to my sat nav, which told me I was 47 minutes away. WTF? I hate being late and this was a double whammy – abandoning my friend AND walking into the activity late – I took a moment to regroup and then used Google Maps on my phone – breathing a sigh of relief when I was informed it would only take me thirty-three minutes.

That was until I got stuck behind a steam engine.

And three different groups of cyclists.

And then had to reverse down a twisty lane.

I could feel my anger rising and my anxiety was shouting “just turn back – don’t bother – you knew you would be late” and I fought back tears of frustration. I pulled over to send a message that I was five minutes away (according to the map) and then I drove to the end of the road.  Apparently I had arrived at my destination: a T-junction. Great.

I took a guess and turned left, which turned out to be the wrong decision (of course!) and drove through a pretty village.   I turned around, re-programmed my sat nav and drove back to the exact same place. This time I chose to make a right and was soon met with a hand-painted sign and a light at the end of the tunnel. HURRAH!

My car bumped down the gravel lane and I quickly parked up and grabbed my bag. The invitation directed me through trees, past a lake and out into a wide open space.

Beautiful. I felt like I could finally relax!

A brick house stood at the far end, not fancy, but it was clearly once a significant stately home. I passed a quirky green hut and made my way to a small marquee, heavily breathing and embarrassed, but welcomed by the friendly, earthy teacher.

I mumbled an exasperated apology to my friend, who was already nestled in her hammock, and she talked me through alighting mine. I reversed in, bottom first, and managed to swing myself into it without any worry. Relieved, I lay back and looked around, ten or so other people lying back in their individual blue cocoons, wearing sunglasses and snuggled under blankets. I kicked off my flip flops and covered myself with the towel I had brought, slowly adjusting myself in the hammock for fear I may rock it too hard and fall out. The journey I had just undertaken was fading into the distance as I tuned into the calm, meditative voice.

And then I panicked.

What if I am too heavy and the hammock thuds to the ground?! The gentle chime and drum of the gong continued, but I couldn’t relax, obsessing that every move I made would loosen the ropes. I studied the trees carefully and could see the knots were very secure. I rationalised that although I am overweight, I am not yet twenty stone – the maximum capacity for these particular beds – and after about five or ten minutes, I settled back into the sound and closed my eyes.

It was so peaceful. Birds chirped and the wind blew the leaves in the trees. The three gongs were very tuneful, like deep cymbals, the melody lulling me into semi-consciousness. I could actually feel the vibrations in my feet, coursing gently through my legs and into my tummy. Then a prickling sensation in my hands, similar to that which I feel when I practice Reiki healing, and I fully immersed myself in the sounds and peace.

I wasn’t quite ready for it all to end. I felt relaxed and energised all at once, and it was so freeing to be suspended in the air with no pressure on any of my aging body parts. The sun was dappling through the shade of the trees and my towel kept the light chill from penetrating my feet, and for a minute I forgot everything that was worrying me or playing on my mind – just everyday stuff really – and I felt like I had been cleansed and recharged.

Sometimes you just have to take some time out and look after yourself.