I’m generally a positive person. Most of the time I’m optimistic and hopeful, but not always. Sometimes my negative mental chatter dominates and it can really bring me down. It makes me worry too much about things. Even though I know worrying is a waste of time and energy, even though I know it can make me unhappy, I’ve still been guilty of doing it. I’m sure I’m not the only one who does. Worrying is like a bad habit I haven’t been able to kick – that is, until now – and I wanted to share this blog post about my recent experience in the hope it helps others. Last year, I realised just how much I was worrying and how detrimental it was to my wellbeing. With all the challenges I was facing, which I’ve written about in this blog series , I eventually realised the negativity was causing me added stress. It was bad enough I had two chronic injuries to deal with, I didn’t really need more on my plate. However, many of my worries and fears were actually related to my injuries. I had lots of concerns, like how I could continue teaching, how long I’d suffer, what treatment I should have, what would happen if I took a prolonged break, if I’d manage financially and would the business recover. Gradually, it wore me down. It all just became a bit too much. I felt overwhelmed. I didn’t feel like my usual bubbly happy self at all. Finally, I reached a point when I knew I had to do something to change the downward negative spiral that I was on. One of the first steps I took to turn things around was to try thinking more positively. I realised I had to stop thinking about the worst-case scenario and all the possible things that could go wrong, but instead tell myself that everything will be alright. I wrote a series of positive affirmations, which I read daily, many of which related to the worries mentioned above. Pretty quickly, I started to feel a bit happier. Soon after, my sister recommended turning these affirmations into Conscious Questions – an approach she’d learned from author and international speaker Nicholas Haines (founder of the Five Institute). With this exercise, I realised that telling myself to be positive was not as powerful as believing deeply that good things would happen. By asking questions, it made me really consider the possibilities. As an example, I’d been worrying about taking a prolonged break from teaching and whether all those attending my classes would return afterwards. My positive affirmation about this was that I needed to let go of the worry about my classes and trust that everything would work out okay. But, by turning it into a question – Why should I not worry about my classes? – and writing it down, I then considered all the reasons and wrote them down too. It was so interesting to observe the thoughts that came to me. I remembered all the lovely supportive messages from my dancers and how understanding they were about my needing to take the time out. I felt reassured a large number would return, when I was able to – after all, they enjoyed my classes and had already returned after the Covid pandemic lockdowns. Plus, I knew that if numbers were low and some people had moved on to other classes, I could advertise again and build the class numbers back up gradually. With a little time and patience, I felt more confident my business would recover eventually. Going through this process with the things that worried me, across all areas of my life, was so insightful. But, more importantly, it helped to build my confidence. I was feeling so empowered and positive by the end of the exercise. It was the turnaround I needed to help me along my path to recovery. The tricky part was making sure the positivity lasted! Throughout my life, I’ve been motivated to better understand myself and others by observing, reading and analysing events and people and the ways they’ve impacted me. It’s something I enjoy doing, even if it can be emotionally challenging at times. I’ve often turned to self-help books because I always find them to be so beneficial and last year was no different. There’s usually plenty that resonates with me and I’m always thinking positively whilst reading them. However, when I’m getting on with living my life, challenges always seem to come along and it’s never quite so easy to maintain that positivity. I invariably slip back in to my old ways. But, last year was different. When I finally took a break from teaching, I had a lot more time. My hunger to learn, about my mind and my body, meant I devoured books like there was no tomorrow. Each book I read led me to another, and so it continued. I felt sure this was the key to my physical and emotional healing and I wasn’t wrong. Even though each book I read had a slightly different focus or approach, they were all more or less saying the same thing. The common thread was basic and easy to understand. Think positively. Be positive. It’s the key to happiness. There were two books that had a significant impact on me with regards to understanding my negative mental chatter and why I worry so much – The Secret and The Greatest Secret by Rhonda Byrne. The first one I’d even read before, nearly 20 years earlier. This time, it resonated with me in different ways. It’s funny how that happens. I love it when I read or hear something at just the precise moment in time when I need to. It’s like a little sign guiding me forward.

By the middle of 2022, having been coping with the loss of my stepfather and two chronic injuries and all the stress those bring, I’d done quite a bit of reading and tried a few emotional exercises, as outlined in my earlier posts in this series. As a result, I was generally feeling much more positive about life and the direction I was headed in. However, this didn’t translate into reduced pain in either my foot or shoulder. I was less concerned about my foot, as I’d seen a podiatrist and I felt reassured that things would eventually improve, if I kept to my daily stretching regime over the summer. It was my shoulder that felt like the bigger issue. Whilst I could’ve had a quick fix steroid injection, instinctively I knew this would not get to the root of the problem – why my frozen shoulder had flared up in the first place. Plus, I was aware of the same early warning signs that were starting to develop in my left shoulder too. The next significant part of my emotional journey was as a result of reading The Journey by Brandon Bays – an American author and motivational speaker. It was Caroline Kremer , the Bowen technique practitioner I’d visited, who had mentioned the name to me. I’d never heard of Brandon. Having looked her up online, I watched a few YouTube videos in which she talked about her experience. Her story was fascinating. It wasn’t even recent. She published the book back in 1999. I wondered how I’d never heard of her before. But, sometimes, things come into your life at exactly the point it needs to and I felt compelled to read her book. So, I ordered a copy and when the time was right, I read it – in one day! I couldn’t put it down. This was a few weeks before my stepfather’s memorial. In The Journey, Brandon wrote about her life as a motivational speaker and how she had to overcome some pretty major challenges in her life. The most notable being a basketball sized tumour that was growing in her uterus and how she managed to cure herself of it without any medical intervention – in six weeks. It sounds impossible – suspect even, to those a little more sceptical. But, bear with me, the theory behind what she achieved is fascinating. Her premise for attempting to clear herself of her cancer was based on the theory that the cells throughout our body have the capability to hold on to emotional memories. Even though our cells are regenerating all the time – for instance an eye only takes a few days to have all new cells – they do so retaining these memories. In fact, there is a growing body of scientific evidence to support this theory. I found myself asking, Could it really be possible? I might not understand physiologically or biochemically everything that’s going on within my body to the same degree as a medically trained doctor, but I know the body is made up of cells, even the brain. If memories can be stored in the cells of the brain, why not the cells in other parts of the body? I’ve heard anecdotal stories about transplant patients who’ve developed tastes for things they didn’t previously like, only to discover the donor had liked those same things. This would suggest that the emotional memory was connected to the cells. Having read about how inextricably linked the body and mind are, the theory really seemed plausible to me. We know that stress has been linked to many illnesses and diseases. It isn’t a huge leap to consider that it’s entirely possible our negative emotions and memories might also manifest in our bodies in surprising ways. At the very least I was open to the possibility there was truth in this theory. That was all I needed to do…just be open. Brandon’s discovery was that in order to be happy and healthy we need to clear the negative emotional memories from our past and let go of them. That by delving deep inside yourself and releasing such negative emotions, feelings and experiences, you will find your inner peace, your essence, the core of who you are. Your soul. She shared her own personal journey and trauma that needed to be released and the freedom that followed. It all sounds very spiritual and new age, and for many that might not sit comfortably. All I can recount is my experience and what a profound effect reading her book had on me. Because, as I read her story, it awoke deep emotional feelings and memories for me at very specific moments. I realised I had my own pain to let go of. What if this is the reason for the inflammation in my shoulder?

It feels appropriate to be writing this blog exactly a year after my stepdad passed away. I wanted to write about visualisation and how it helped me in the lead up to his memorial. My mum had asked me to read a poem on the day and I wanted to be sure I could deliver it without getting emotional. In preparation, it wasn’t enough to just read the poem over and over daily for about a week. I had to visualise myself reading it inside the church on the day. I imagined standing at the lectern in front of the rows of people, all dressed in an array of colour and not the usual drab black. I made a point of imagining myself reading the poem slowly and calmly, with confidence and composure. Every day I practiced and went through this same visualisation. During the spring, I’d read several self-help books and in the week leading up to my stepdad’s memorial I finished another, ‘The Secret’ by Rhonda Byrne. All of these books were more or less saying the same thing. I was reminded about the importance of being positive and seeing things positively. I was really feeling it. I was so energised and much happier. Literally, the day after finishing ‘The Secret’, I picked up the sheet of paper to practice reading the poem and suddenly, I had a light bulb moment. Even though I’d been reading the words repeatedly several days before, the meaning behind them instantly became clear. The poem was all about viewing death positively and celebrating life. It spoke volumes to me. No longer was I just reading the words, but feeling them. It wasn’t easy, but definitely easier. I was sure I could deliver the poem on the day with confidence now I believed and embraced the words and their meaning. But, just to be sure, I continued to visualise and practice daily. There’s a slight drawback with visualisation. Not everything is as we picture it. On the morning of the memorial, ahead of the service, I went to the church with my mum. I discovered the interior was nothing like I’d imagined it. There wasn’t just one nave, but three, and I’d be standing in the middle. This threw me! Where would I face? Where would the lectern be positioned? Thankfully, there was time to consider everything, and I was able to practice the reading. I felt happier after that. The challenge for me during the service was that my reading of the poem was to follow on from my stepsister’s reflections. I’d at least had the foresight to suggest to my mum that we have a hymn in between us. I was very grateful for that on the day. I have no recollection of which hymn it was. I don’t even recall singing. I just remember wiping away the tears, taking some deep breaths and repeating to myself, ‘You’re confident, calm and composed’. The moment of truth had arrived and it was time to read the poem. He Is Gone by David Harkins You can shed tears that he is gone Or you can smile because he has lived. You can close your eyes and pray that he will come back Or you can open your eyes and see all that he has left. Your heart can be empty because you can’t see him Or you can be full of the love that you shared. You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday Or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday. You can remember him and only that he is gone Or you can cherish his memory and let it live on. You can cry and close your mind, be empty and turn your back Or you can do what he would want: smile, open your eyes, love and go on. I was pleased with how my reading went. I wasn’t quite as calm and composed as I’d imagined, but that didn’t matter. The visualisation exercise and positivity had helped. Thankfully, no one could see that my knee was trembling beneath my skirt! For me, the most touching and memorable moment of the service came right at the end. My stepbrother played ‘The Last Post’ on his cornet. It was very moving. As the music filled the church, I imagined my stepfather sitting at the helm of his boat, setting off to sea. He was smiling as he waved goodbye. Tears rolled down my cheeks, but I felt a sense of peace and calm. I was letting him go.

I’ve been on quite an emotional journey this year, which I’ve been writing about in my blog series Living The Best Life Possible . The most recent post was about Symptom Dialogue , an exercise I’d read about in The Mind Body Bible by Dr Mark Atkinson. The idea was to look beyond my physical injuries and tap into my deeper wants, needs and emotions. As a result, I gained greater awareness and clarity. From this starting point, I began to deal with other issues that were affecting my emotional state. I was ready. So, just one week later, I tried another exercise outlined in the same book, Emotional Trauma Release. As Dr Mark Atkinson outlines, emotional trauma can mean so many different things and in this context mostly relates to abuse, bullying, heartbreak, accidents, phobias and witnessing a disturbing incident. It isn’t just about the event, but how we respond to it, which may continue long afterwards. It may be hard to process if we go into denial, shock or feel overwhelmed. ‘The painful emotional charge generated in response to the event gets lodged and trapped inside of you.’ How we respond to emotional trauma will also vary hugely from person to person. Some of the possible effects are depression, insomnia, anxiety and addictions, with ‘health, relationships, work and confidence being the most badly affected.’ If you experience distress, upset, anger, irritability, numbness or any negative emotional state when you think about a specific person or event, then at some level you’re still affected. I knew this was true for me. Just over six months earlier, my stepdad died of cancer. I was still traumatised by the last time I saw him – the day before he died. He didn’t look like the man I knew. I’d never seen someone so close to death before. Whenever I’ve thought about him since then, it was that unwanted memory that always came back first and brought with it the tears. The emotions. The sadness and pain. With his memorial only a few weeks away, it was time for me to let go of the sadness. I was starting to feel positive about the road ahead and I wanted to have happier memories of him instead. I felt sure that it would help me gain some sense of closure. In the book, there were two exercises outlined, and I ought to stress that the recommendation was to do them with an experienced practitioner, especially if you feel overwhelmed as you go through the process. As I was already in a more positive mental space and sufficient time had passed since the event itself, I figured I’d manage alright on my own. I tried EmoTrance, which was developed by Silvia Hartmann . It was a relatively simple and short exercise, which is why it appealed to me so much. Following the guidance in the book, I sat down and thought about the memory I wanted to release, then wrote it on a piece of paper, placing it faced down on my lap. I took a few long deep breaths and then turned it over. Slowly and purposefully, I read the words again. A wave of emotion washed over me. Tears were streaming down my cheeks as I fully gave in to the sadness. I placed my hand on my chest. That’s where I could feel it. The idea was to try to get a sense of which direction the energy wanted to go, where it wanted to exit my body. Almost immediately, I could feel a tightening in my throat, as if the energy was stuck there. I scarcely knew if it was real or imagined. Very gently, I massaged my neck with my fingers. Instinctively, I opened my mouth and kept it open for a minute, hoping I was letting it go. I’ll admit, I felt a little foolish. But, it also felt like the right thing to do. I wasn’t sure if it had worked, so I went through the whole process again, just slightly modifying what I wrote on the paper. Afterwards, I definitely felt better, but wasn’t really certain whether it had been successful. However, later that evening a friend called me for a catch up and I ended up telling her about the memory and the exercise. No negative emotions emerged at all when I was talking to her. Absolutely none. I couldn’t quite believe it. In fact, the following morning I decided to take a moment to check in with how I felt again, just to be sure the trauma was cleared. I let my mind wonder back to that last day once more. The sadness didn’t return. It was gone. I couldn’t quite believe how such a simple exercise had been so effective. It was amazing. I felt so empowered because I now had an exercise I could call upon again, should the need arise. Around the same time, I’d been reading about how important it is to stay positive in all aspects of life. I guess, in many ways, because I set the intention to let go of the sad memories, because I was ready, it happened. I didn’t want to be sad anymore. It’s amazing how a simple mind shift can work wonders. It’s impossible to feel sad when you’re thinking happy thoughts. I decided to replace the old memory of my stepdad with a happier one. I pictured him having fun dancing. He had his own unique style, which made me smile. I brought the memory back to life by remembering what he was wearing, what the room was like and the lighting. I could visualise it all like a colour movie, full of movement. I could even hear his voice. I remembered how I felt on the evening and the smile returned to me once again. Hopefully, in the years to come, it will be one of the memories that will stay with me.

After a difficult year, including a family bereavement and two chronic injuries affecting my ability to work, I reached the point when I realised I needed to listen to my body and find out what it was telling me, which I mentioned at the end of the previous blog in this series, Holistic View of Health. Essentially, I knew I needed to look more closely at the emotional issues affecting me and try to understand what was going on at a much deeper level, and not just focus my attention on treating the injuries. So, I decided to give the Symptom Dialogue exercise a go, which was outlined in The Mind Body Bible by Dr Mark Atkinson. The exercise can even be used to address a disease or situation and not just a symptom. I decided to first focus on my foot problem (plantar fasciitis) because this was the primary injury mainly affecting my ability to teach my dance classes. I felt it was important to be in the right frame of mind and be clear of any mental chatter, so I went through the process first thing in the morning. As well as it being the quietest time of the day, I’m also more creative and productive then, and I feel fresh. To make sure I was undisturbed, I set aside well over an hour of quiet time with my phone on silent. I even avoided using my computer despite the fact it would’ve been quicker for writing down my thoughts - instead, I went old-school and used pen and paper. It felt more organic and natural that way. I took a few long and slow deep breaths and relaxed. The book recommends not treating the symptom like “the enemy, as something that needs to be removed or eradicated” and I realised that was exactly what I’d been doing, like I was fighting it. Instead, the aim was to explore the potential positives or opportunities that may be arising as a result of the symptom. Essentially, it was time for me to change my perspective. I needed to accept what was happening, be open to what I may learn and be grateful for the opportunity to know myself better. The next step was to think of my symptom as an object, to make it easier to explore what it was trying to reveal to me. The idea was to accept the first thing that popped into my head. Immediately, I saw a ball. Then, at the top of a blank piece of paper I wrote, ‘If this foot pain could speak to me what would it say?’, which I know sounds a little odd. But, I was amazed at the random words and thoughts that came to me. I scribbled it all down and even wrote some words more than once, when there were recurring thoughts. The main thing was not to try to figure out the meaning behind it all, but simply let it all flow out across the paper. Initially, my thoughts were all centred on when I'd first noticed the pain in my foot, at the start of the Covid pandemic and the first lockdown. Unsurprisingly, freedom, loneliness and frustration were the words that came to me more than once. Then thoughts drifted to the present day and feeling tired – everything was getting too much. I wanted and needed more time. Time for things other than work. No pressure. Less Stress. Time to be. Space. Time to reflect. Time for me. Time to write. Time for doing the things that make me happy. Eventually, I felt drained of thoughts relating to my foot pain and I moved on to the next stage, which was looking at the downsides and upsides of the symptom. I was supposed to have an equal number of both. On the face of it, it might seem as though thinking of positives might be difficult, but after letting all my thoughts out, it was surprisingly easy. I think there are always positives that can be gleaned from our experiences when we look for them. The positives for me were having time out, slowing down, reflecting, listening to my body, going with the flow, not planning and basically giving myself some rest. When I reflected on the object I’d associated with my symptom – the ball – it seemed so appropriate. At first there was this feeling of literally being stopped from moving, then of not moving forward, figuratively speaking, and then later, the realisation I was always on the go and seldom stationary, hardly resting or giving myself time to reflect. The sense of clarity I’d gained from going through the whole process was remarkable. All that remained was to come up with an action plan for moving forward. I knew I had to give myself the time and rest I so sorely needed. In fact, I’d already addressed that, because a week before completing this exercise I'd made the difficult decision to have a complete break from teaching during the summer, but, I also needed a plan for the future, once my classes resumed. I had to look at my work-life balance and figure out how I could change my workload so it was physically less demanding on me and sustainable in the long term, plus allow me time for other creative pursuits. By the end of the exercise, I felt so much better and more positive. I felt the joy of having the time and freedom to do what I needed to do in order to move forward. It felt truly liberating. It was also just the start. Now I’d opened the door to my innermost thoughts, over the course of a few days, I repeated the exercise whilst thinking about different issues and each time new insights were revealed. I even focused on the stress one time, as I knew I had so much tension in my neck, shoulders and back. I wrote so much more on that occasion than any of the other times. Curiously, the object that came to me was a life ring and at the start I had a visual of it in the water and then of me holding on to it, but by the end of all my thoughts, it had grown in size and I was actually sitting on it, floating on the water, feeling fully supported by all those around me. What was really apparent was the shift in the narrative from negative to positive as the flow of thoughts lead me to a much better place. I felt like I was letting go of certain negative thoughts about the future and fully appreciating all the good people and things in my life. I felt a sense of calm and found an inner peace. Whilst I certainly believed that anything was possible moving forward, there was much I had to let go of and it wouldn’t happen overnight. I’d been holding on to a lot of pain and hurt from the past, in ways I’d never even realised, which had resulted in creating a protective shield around myself, gradually growing over the years. Only now I was realising how this barrier was blocking me from starting a new relationship with someone special. Aside from this, I also felt burdens, pressures and responsibilities that came from the different areas of my life, which weighed heavily on my shoulders. I realised I had to learn to relax and let go of the worry, frustration and tension because it wasn’t helping me at all. My aim was to go out in nature more, without my camera – for a change – and experience it in different ways and really feel the benefit of mindfulness. But, perhaps most significantly of all, my desire to write was reawakened. For one thing, I felt inspired to write about this year. However, something more important to me was sitting on my computer waiting to be read by someone other than me. In 2020 I’d completed writing a non-fiction book. Finally, it felt like the right time to fully embrace what I wanted to achieve and that was to have it published. Awareness is such a gift. It’s been enlightening. After completing the Symptom Dialogue exercise several times, it helped me realise what I really want in life, also that it’s within my control to make it happen. I’m not sure even my words here can convey how empowering that feels. It’s like I’ve seen inside my soul and I’m learning to be my true authentic self. I’m letting go of fears and barriers, anything that’s been inhibiting me from chasing my dreams. I’m excited about what lies ahead and I feel hope and optimism is radiating through me. When I think back to the pain I experienced at the start of the year, I now realise how true it is that difficult times help us grow stronger. This was just the beginning of my emotional journey. It feels like now, this year, is the time for me to face my past and work through my issues, so I can fully and completely embrace the future.