by Jane Morris
Jane Morris is the pseudonym for a South London based counseller. This is the first of Jane’s regular series on Dulwich OnView with tips and thoughts on well-being to inspire you.
Each day I try to make a date with myself, it’s a space when, however tempting it may be to invite someone along, I spend time alone, reflecting on how I feel. This to some, may appear selfish or lazy behaviour…..what about the housework, what about earning more money? but to me it feels like a safety valve, without it, the other parts of my life would suffer and become diluted.
My ‘date’ mostly involves a walk in what feels to me like the jewel in south London’s crown – Brockwell Park. Walking in this beautiful place, I feel connected with myself again. The very act of walking mindfully, noticing how I’m putting one foot in front of the other, how the breeze feels on my face and hands is a meditation.
Being in nature supports this feeling of connectedness, noticing how the trees change their colours, the vibrancy of the spring leaves, changing into the branches that hang heavy with the scorching leaves and fruits in the heat of the summer, into the heart-breaking colours painted all over them before falling into the mists of autumn, and finally into the crisp darkness of winter.
Noticing how the seasons – the journey of nature – affects my mood. I know that in autumn I feel at my most creatively intense, somehow the quietening down of nature brings me to a place of deeper connection.
How easy, in the busyness of life, it can be to become distracted from the essence of being alive. I realise that in order to honour the part of me that gets forgotten, I need to keep this date with myself….to allow myself the space to breathe again.
As Pablo Picasso once said “Every child is an artist, the problem is how to remain an artist once one grows up” and for me part of the answer can be just remembering. It may sound simple and obvious, but remembering that I have the choice to be who I want to be is fundamental to making a change. And knowing I have the choice is an important first step.
Working as a counsellor I find that this realisation is often the key to change, the key to beginning to make ones life a more satisfactory place to be.
I often hear people fearing that by allowing themselves this choice they may be considered selfish, how sad that the very act of making ones life suit you more, can be put off by the fear of what others, or even yourself, may think.
If you don’t allow you to be yourself, how will anyone else?
I invite you to book that date with yourself today. Begin to be guided by the positive….and begin your journey back to yourself.
Photo: thanks to oobrien on Flickr.com (CCL)
Ways to reflect: I used to knit skarves while working out my life. The longer the skarf, the more problems there were to sort. I would cast off when I thought the problem was resolved.
I now make dates with myself at classical concerts. Wonderful music washing around me, eyes closed, thinking positive!
I invite others to say where they make dates with themselves.
A journey back to ourselves. I think it is a vital necessity for everyone, and in particular for those whose path seems to be lost.
I use to make dates with myself when I find the time, the moment and the pleasure to read a book.
It does not matter when and where it happens. The important thing is that I’m not running after my children, I’m not at the mobile, I’m not planning anything.
I’m in the perfect silence and I can concentrate only on the red, magic line that connects my eyes and my brain with the inky world that I have in front. This helps me to remember and to deeply feel that I am a creature in continuous development.
I’m now reading “The Agony and the Ecstasy” by Irving Stone. I recommend it. It is just what I was looking for for my dates with myself in this period. A book which brings you immediately in a parallel world of its own. It is about the life of Michelangelo Buonarroti. It has the merit to recreate under your eyes the real life of real men and women of the XV-XVI centuries, as if you can touch them with hand, as if you can walk on their streets, sleep in their beds, see the world with their eyes.