Getting back into a life of structure

Photo by Alain Pham on Unsplash

I’ll be starting a new role in September. It draws a line under a rather chaotic period in my life.

What started off getting signed off for a week of sick leave in February 2024 turned into an 18 month descent into executive dysfunction and existential crises. It wasn’t all bad, but it was pretty rough.

The more obvious downside of burnout is the descent of being able to do basic tasks. There were periods where I would struggle to get out of bed until the afternoon. I remember one time where a single trip to the supermarket for food wiped me out for the rest of the day.

Over time, these got better. Although I still had lower energy, I had enough to actually do things again.

Honestly, the toughest part was having nothing to do. The emptiness during the day has felt harrowing. People I know are working. Most social activities happen during the evening. So what do I do for the next 8 hours, sitting here, all alone?

It’s a real eye-opener to see how disjointed our way of living has become. Either you must be working, or you have nothing to do. There seems to be little space in between.

The easy answer is simply to say that we should simply just get more people into work.

But time out of the system makes you realise how overly simplistic an answer that really is. Outside of the mad rush, you actually get space to think, and to feel. Time for yourself isn’t some crazy luxury.

It also ignores how many people are marginalised in society. Some have health conditions that prevent them from working. Others have the audacity to care for others, whether the elderly or a new born child. The capitalist system seems to have ignored that these people also exist.

For me, I had pretty much lost hope in getting back into a meaningful job. I now rue the fact that I picked working around politics. I wish someone had told me when I was younger that the rhetoric about equality and that ‘you can be anything you want to be’ was a lie.

The jobs I’ve had thus far have been mired with messy (sometimes illegal) working practices. I’ve also faced my fair share of good old fashioned implicit racism. If only someone had told me that you’re allowed to be a minority, so long as you’re too junior for anyone to notice. I made the mistake of having career ambitions. I then compounded the error by holding on to my beliefs and values.

Sometimes, I wish I worked in something like IT. There, people are used to seeing faces like mine and having to take their advice. Perhaps there I might be able to just go about my job, and have a normal career in peace.

In contrast, I’ve lost a lot of faith in actually making change. Navigating something like the Brussels EU bubble oft means toning down your voice, following the old white guy in the suit’s (oft erroneous) opinion. Throw out all that training that you did to get the role in the first place. Oh, and all that work you did to become a better, more rounded, accountable and responsible person? Best throw that out of the window too – taking ownership often puts a target on your back.

Some people may feel that us minorities make too much about race. But what they don’t understand is that it is our upbringing that shapes us as people. Why is it that I worked in a place that can outcry Russian’s aggression in Ukraine, but at the same time only describes the Palestinian genocide taking place as ‘the situation in the Middle East’? Why am I the only one who seems to notice or care?

Such things only become clearer with the benefit of perspective. I think it’s why we need some level of hardship in our lives (even if I probably got more than my fair share of it). It helps us grow, and reconsider the way we do things.

I plan on using the experience of the last 18 months to grow, rather than to shrink.

I’ve seen more about the world than I ever would have if I simply stayed on the ‘straight and narrow’. And that can only make me a better person.

On dealing with the unfairness of life

Photo by Tingey Injury Law Firm on Unsplash

I woke up a few days ago. But when I got out of bed, I had a shot of pain. Putting weight on my right foot hurt a lot. I could barely step without wincing.

I thought that this might be morning stiffness. Reality had other ideas. Two days later, I’m sitting with an ice pack. I’m currently doing my best to move as little as possible.

What caused this grand injury? I’m not actually really sure.

The night before, I did a dance class and walked around without problem. Before going to bed, I had zero pains.

I must have somehow rolled my ankle while sleeping. I went to a festival last weekend where I walked around a lot, so I suppose my tendons were extra susceptible to injury.

I’m feeling quite bitter about this. I feel like I’ve done nothing to really provoke such an injury.

In the past, I’ve rolled my ankle because I wasn’t paying attention. At least then I had someone or something to blame.

One weird quirk about the human experience is dealing with unfairness. There is an innate sense of justice within us that sparks when something unfair takes place.

I don’t really know what hurt my ankle, but I’ve got little choice but to deal with it. There’s little to do other than heal.

I can try to put a positive spin on it too – this happened when I’m at home, and whilst I may have to cancel a few things, it’s taken place at a relatively convenient time. If this happened a week ago, I’d be stuck in a rented tent, unable to enjoy a festival I travelled 10 hours to get to.

The reality is that there is a duality to unfairness. Looking at it more broadly, I’ve suffered from extra levels of discrimination because of how I sound and look. These are important things for me to recognise and to make peace with. If nothing else, it helps me navigate the realities of my life more effectively.

And yet, there are far more unfair things happening in the world right now. If I were born in Gaza, I would be starving – assuming I was still alive. There is a genocide taking place. The people living there are powerless to do anything about it. This is about as unfair as it gets. Meanwhile, people in places of power would rather ignore these realities, rather than doing what is right.

Some people get so caught up in the unfairness of others that they choose to minimise their own. Because what is happening to them is less intense than the worst atrocities of the world, they feel selfish for ever raising an issue. These folk, whilst well-meaning, are the ones that often get walked over. If you are not able to stand up for yourself, you are allowing other people to take your power. Chances are that these people will end up using such power to cause evermore harm.

Other people choose to see their own experience of unfairnesses as the worst thing in the world. Blinded by their emotions, they fail to see anything outside of their plight as worthy of attention. I’ve worked in many activist spaces, and this is something I often have seen. There is little regard for anything else apart from their cause. Such folk can get so single-minded that they sadly end up emulating the problematic behaviour that they fight so passionately against. It’s why many NGOs I’ve seen end up exploiting their own workforce.

Then some people prefer to ignore that unfairness exists. By simply pretending that the world is perfect, it is far easier to ignore the injustice. It can then absolve us from responsibility, because to us, the system works. It’s easier to say that people who are suffering do so because they somehow deserve it. Such an approach is devoid of reality. It is both inhumane, and it also means living in a delusion. It is impossible to be truly happy if one is ignoring the hard facts of life.

To exist in this word, we need to become comfortable with the fact that unfairness exists. It’s how we deal with it that allows us to flourish.

Doing a diagnostic on our daily anxieties

How often are you feeling anxious during the day?

For me, that number has turned out to be a lot higher than I realised.

I came back to Brussels on Monday after a visit to my parents in London. When I’m with my parents, a lot of my daily responsibilities are put on hold. I’m privileged to have a space where I don’t have to cook or clean.

But I had a slight anxiety attack the moment I came back into Brussels. On the floor, I saw a letter in my name, without any obvious sender. Cue a sense of panic.

I haven’t had a scary letter in years. Yet a mix of scary Belgian administration and general internalised fear of being a migrant has taught me to fear these things.

I’ve heard people describe these thoughts as ‘irrational’. But honestly, I don’t think that’s particularly helpful. Saying that our thoughts are irrational puts the blame on ourselves. The reality is that I have had scary letters before come out of nowhere. When I first registered in Belgian I one day got a scary red tax form, and at the time it was extra confusing with the mix of Brexit and a COVID pandemic.

A few years back, I received a separate threatening letter on the morning of my birthday. I even had to sign to prove I received it. It put a real sour note on that day.

It’s no wonder that my brain associates a mysterious envelope with bad news. So to call these thoughts irrational is only to gaslight myself into believing that my feelings are wrong.

Instead, the solution is to rewire the brain. I haven’t had any mystery angry letters for years, and so I can tell myself that I can slowly let go of the worry. I’m following the procedures as best as I can, and no one can suddenly throw me out onto the street. Once I can process why the emotion is arising, I can see that my anxious reaction is no longer required.

In this instance, this letter was actually nothing scary at all. In fact, I misread the name – it was actually for my neighbour anyway. So no need to worry.

I realised that this anxiety check was worth doing on a whole manner of different things in my life. Basic tasks like tidying up have become an anxiety inducing episode. Having gone through a burnout where small tasks feel tough, I lost a lot of confidence around my ability to deal with the most basic of things around the house.

When I’m feeling particularly down in the dumps, simple things like social occasions or even eating can be stressful. So without realising, I’ve built up a lot of worry that can hit me at any time.

Often the solution is simply to just do the thing. Regular tasks like washing clothes or cooking can become very stressful when we spend too much time worrying about them. So sometimes giving ourselves a little push just to get the thing done is worth it to have the relief afterwards.

Other times, we can give ourselves a break. I’ve been doing some language lessons for a while now. I ended up just giving myself a week break from my dutch class because I was feeling pretty walled in. Evidently, doing this too often can start to have a wider negative effect, but sometimes it’s necessary. That extra week took the pressure off.

And sometimes, we have to reevaluate what we said we were going to do. I signed up for some e-learning courses, including one that would be for the next 8 weeks. I realised that I didn’t actually want to do this enough to justify the additional stress it would bring. So I pulled out. Whilst I don’t advocate flakiness, I’m also learning that blindly doing things that aren’t right for us isn’t a good way to go either.

I think it’s worth regularly doing a diagnostic around the things that are bringing us anxiety in our lives. Particularly when we’re going through a period of stress or wider tension. Sometimes. it’s worth stopping with the grind for a while.

But remember, the key thing not to forget is where the anxiety is really coming from. Many people get trapped in the idea that the anxiety is being caused by some magic force outside of us. It’s not. It’s us. Our brains, and the way we interpret the things happen to us.

Doing the deeper work to rewire our brains is what’s really going to set us free.

Avoiding the trap of constant negativity

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I’m back for a visit in London. I’m here to see my parents. Partly to do my familial duties. Partly to get a free birthday meal. Partly to get the rest of my mum’s cooking back to Brussels.

My last trip here left me feeling pretty bitter. Not for any reason. Instead, it was because of me being angry at UK politics. The issues that had come up felt raw. Left wing politics turned out to be not particularly left wing. Apparently, benefits need to be cut, immigrants are problematic and trans people are bad. Oh and Genocides are apparently not taking place either.

I noticed myself getting into a spiral where I felt quite sour around the idea of coming back. I’d remark of returning to the ‘sinking island’. I’m totally justified in having such an opinion. Indeed, we’re all entitled to one. Yet what I need to be careful of is falling into the negative spiral of seeing everything so negatively. If I’m not careful, it will turn any trip I have here into one of misery and anger.

Our minds can be very powerful tools. They have the power and elegance of a master painter. We can quickly completely change our opinions on things based upon how we now feel.

Does a relationship become less meaningful once we know it is over? We can be tempted to fall into that thinking. ‘Don’t look back in anger’, as a certain Manchester band touring right now would say.

One of the challenges I’ve found in hanging around marginalised groups is how negative they can become. What I first found as a sanctuary, quickly became evident as a breeding ground for negativity. Whilst this is understandable, it is also a trap. The comfort of finding people to complain with is that it further cements you down in your own feelings of negativity and loathing.

I’ve lost people because I disagreed with the way they saw things. Someone once told me that ‘why bother, the world is s**t anyway’. That’s not healthy energy. Nor does it drive us towards a happy life. Bonding over trauma lacks any real depth..

It’s important to realise that if we constantly remind of ourselves of the negativities, that these will also be the creations that we see in the world. The more I focuss upon the things I am angry about, the less space I had to actually enjoy the nice things. And there are nice things.

Being back in the UK, and particular London, is one of the few places where I see more people who look and speak like me. Everything just feels so easy as well. There’s a part of British, pragmatic culture I’ll always miss – especially in contrast to the bureaucratic behemoth of Brussels. I want to enjoy these things.

Yet I’ve also learnt that we can go too far with this as well. Because if we do not see the negatives, we are deluding ourselves to ignoring the real problems of the world.

I’ve been in many different coaching spaces where this approach often bothered me.The answer to the pain of seeing things like a genocide taking place in front of our very eyes was simply to ‘rise above it’. Which is a sophisticated, mental gymnastics way of essentially just ignoring what is happening. It’s all fine if you’re children aren’t starving.

I do believe that there are some enlightened approaches that can be at peace with the hardships and unfairness of the world. Things like the 10 day Vipassana meditation I did earlier in the year felt rather balanced with this philosophical approach.

I’ve come to the perspective that we must not cut ourselves away from the pain. This pain is what tells us that something is amiss. If we do not get angry, we are not driven to make a change.

But we must also not dwell too long in anger, lest it cloud our entire existence. The world does not need another miserable person destroying themselves over a cause that they cannot singlehandedly change.

And so, we must enjoy life. We can honour our feelings by experiencing that anger, sorrow and betrayal. But we can also allow ourselves to move on and live our life.

Another year of revolving around the sun

Photo by Vivek Doshi on Unsplash

Each year, I write a reflective post around the time of my birthday.

This year, I’m not really sure what to say. It is as if my mind has become even more fogged in confusion than ever before.

One of the ironies of life is that the more we learn, the less we seem to understand.

I feel better equipped than ever to explain the phenomena that I see. I’ve observed, learnt, studied. And yet, I seem less about to comprehend it than ever.

As an example, I volunteered to work at a bar the other weekend for an event. It was nice to use my hands and just fulfill people’s orders.

I took one order of four long drinks (a spirit and mixer). The total was 40 Euros. The person didn’t blink an eye. They simply tapped their card.

In relative terms, I know that this wasn’t even that expensive. There are places which charge hundreds, if not thousands for a drink. The same drink that you can buy at a fraction of the price at the corner shop just outside of the venue.

It’s at this point that my logical brain kicks in. There’s all sorts of rational explanations. Social pressure. Inhibited decision making ability. A desperation for ‘letting off steam’ and worrying about the bank account later.

Well, all I can say is that I realise that my brain doesn’t work like that. I’ve been at a festival this weekend and I would rather go hungry than feel the anger of getting ripped off for a 18 euro pizza (that will also probably not actually fill me up either).

Knowing this is helpful. It is progress. But it also feels isolating. I suppose it’s better to know why I don’t fit in than simply always feeling an outsider but wondering whether I am just worrying too much (spoiler alert: I’m not).

My birthday was yesterday. This year, I’ve spent it going to Rock Werchter Festival. Partly because it sounded nice. Partly because it was an easier thing to organise. The idea of hosting a birthday party sounded too complex.

I’ve spoken to friends about how the 30s are going to be better than our 20s. These days, 20s are years of struggle, constant change and financial struggle. 30s have more stability and independence.

I still think this is true, but my early 30s have been pretty rough. So far, most of this period has been filled with a burnout.

For the first time, I have no idea what the next year holds. I have some plans, but I’m making little attempts to look ahead. I’d like to pretend that this is due to some deep wisdom around ‘staying in the moment’. The reality is that I’m too tired.

I have some restrained optimism that it will go better, and – dare I say it – actually well.

But I’ll simply return to the mantra that has served my well in recent history. Let the Universal Law of Nature do it’s thing.

It’ll guide me to where I’m meant to be.

When you can’t seem to ‘have fun’ in life

I’ve noticed recently that my life has been lacking pleasure. I don’t really seem to be having much fun.

That’s not to say that I don’t have access to fun things. It’s more that I don’t end up feeling like I am enjoying myself. And over time, I’ve lost the desire to even try.

Since my burnout, the idea of doing something pleasurable feels fraught with risk. Unhealthy indulgence? That’s bad for you. Nice time with friends? You may not see them again for months. Going to a party? I may end up feeling out of place.

Somewhere along the line I’ve apparently trained my brain to stop giving me pleasure signals. I haven’t been out to a restaurant in months, and I don’t really want to either.

To be honest, eating right now feels like a chore. My ability to understand my hunger signals is very mixed, and I am often very confused whether I should eat, and how much it should be. Right now, I eat for sustenance. I guesstimate what I should eat to stop me crashing.

Getting an autism diagnosis has led me to reevaluate a lot around the way I function. Many neurodivergent people have real challenges with eating. For me, I often have numbed feelings around eating, followed by intense, insatiable hunger pangs. I don’t think I’m particularly sensitive to sugar, but I do have a very sensitive stomach.

For a while, I had accepted my current way of living as the way it will be for the rest of my life. But I also have reflected that I didn’t have such difficulties before. I could eat in restaurants without a problem, and I used to enjoy food far more than I do now.

The idea is dawning within me that I don’t have to be this way. If I could do something before, I can do it again. But that requires me to retrain the brain. I think I need to unlearn my pattern of suppressing feelings of joy and happiness.

It’s interesting because I’m also seeing that there’s different facets to fun. My sense of satisfaction from a ‘job well done’ seems to have returned. It’s what’s driving me to continue with writing my articles here. It’s also what’s getting me to pick up more activities over the last few months. This is probably the one that has persisted despite the burnout.

I also have generally felt better through exercise. I feel healthier, and generally have a boost to my day after a gym workout from the endorphinal rush. I also am far more confident with my body, which means that a lot of worries and concerns have disappeared.

But my ability to enjoy simple, more hedonistic pleasures seems to be eluding me. I don’t seem to really get much joy in the things that I do. Even the idea of a walk in the park or going to the beach has felt more a thing I ‘should’ do, rather than one that I actually want.

For a while I went on antidepressants. The aim of this was to increase my serotonin and effectively ‘snap’ me out of a rut. Yet it became obvious that these weren’t really helping. Although I had a burst of energy, I didn’t really have much desire to do anything with it. And so, it probably compounded the issue rather than helped.

I think the solution for me is quite a simple one. ‘Have more fun’. The challenge is doing this in practice, and doing it in a way that actually really feels fun.

I’ve been to parties, but I wouldn’t describe myself as enjoying them particularly. It then instead becomes about attaining a goal – whether making more friends or instead seeing it as a cardio session to burn calories.

I’ve been spending quite a lot of my spare time playing video games. Yet I’m not sure whether this is really to do with having fun, as much as just distracting my brain by giving it lots of sensory inputs to focus upon.

I don’t really have an obvious solution. If I did, I probably wouldn’t be facing this problem still. So this is definitely a work in progress.

But my instinct is telling me that I’m better off letting the universe take the lead with this one. I’ve found that the more I let go, the more the Law of Nature will take over.

Ironically, such struggles end up working themselves out when we stop fighting them.

Answering the call of leadership (in Toastmasters)

I first attended the Claddagh Toastmaster’s club in early 2022. Fast forward to three years later, I’ve now been elected as the club President for the 2025-2026 term.

I had never heard of Toastmasters until I came across it in a personal development book. It highly recommended as a space to improve yourself, particularly around public speaking. Having spent many years doing Model United Nations during my youth, public speaking was already rather up my street.

Since coming to Brussels, I’ve tried many different clubs and social organisations. Yet Toastmasters, for one reason or another, has been the one that stuck. Perhaps it’s because meetings have a particular focus on structure and timing – this made it feel a lot more conscientious and efficient than other organisations (and no powerpoint either!).

But I think it also is because I’ve felt a consistent opportunity for growth, and a wide variety of ways to do so too. Whether it is to get better at doing ‘table topics’ (unprepared quickfire speeches), completing a new speech project, entering contests or taking up a meeting role.

Often with clubs, we first come with a specific goal in mind. But what keeps us coming back is whether we feel we belong. Fundamentally, Toastmasters brings in people looking to improve themselves. It makes for a gathering of people who tend to be more open. I’m also privileged that the club I attend gets people of different nationalities, ages and walks of life too.

Over the last few years, my Toastmaster club has been a refuge in a sea of political chaos and radical personal shifts. It is one of the few in-person meetings with a regular schedule in my life.

I’ve taken up several committee roles over the last few years. So it’s no great surprise that I ended up President. Indeed, I’d already been asked last year, only for my burnout to wipe away any chance of that being a practical reality.

But this year my energy has returned, and it’s felt the right time. The outgoing President basically started to speak about the next year saying ‘when you’re president’. Sometimes we need these little nudges in life.

From a spiritual perspective, it also feels very much in alignment. I’ve been focussing on living in line with the Universal Law of Nature.

When things feel too difficult, it’s probably a sign that something is not in alignment. But when things flow, they come together so naturally, it’s as if destiny itself has created each step in front of you. Your only job is simply to walk forward. That’s basically what it has felt like with this position.

In all honesty, I’m not nervous about this responsibility. I’ve done other leadership positions before, and I know I have a wealth of experience to draw upon. From a rational perspective, there’s no reason I cannot do it well.

But at a deeper level, I know there is no reason to be worried.

I’ve had months of facing myself at the deepest, most painful and rawest level. My life has fundamentally changed. The past version of me is gone. It’s something I’ve had to also mourn.

Facing myself has been the hardest challenge I could ever go through. And it still feels a challenge today. So, in comparison, any particular challenge in the material world feels relatively minor. Be a club president? Sure, why not.

Some people may label this as having ‘confidence’. But I’ve also heard this as having a ‘knowing’. I know that I’ve faced far greater challenges, and that I have a wealth of skills and abundance for this. So, barring any aberrations beyond my control, I know I’ll do a great job at it.

As long as I stay on the path hat life has set for me, through discipline and diligence, wonderful things will follow.

Feeling the pain of a world in conflict

Photo by Mike Setchell on Unsplash

I’ve been feeling low rather regularly in the last week. It’s really been at odds with what’s happening in my life. Broadly speaking, I’m actually on the up.

Yet as I regain my connection with the world, I also regain my connection with its pains. And right now, the world is in a lot of pain.

Seeing what is happening right now in Gaza is devastating. My soul has been longing for some space for sadness. After a period of time, perhaps I’m finally giving it.

I’ve lived in a political world for most of my adult life. I’ve gotten used to being up close to the messy realities of life. That’s meant a mixture of needing to build a thicker skin, and to some extent desensitising myself to what is happening. This was necessary, otherwise I simply wouldn’t function. But it also means that I can get overly protective of ourselves for fear of feeling the pain so deeply.

My career has been injected with messy politics. I was a European Commission trainee when the UK voted to leave the EU. My first few years on the career ladder was working on Brexit within the UK Government. The next few years we’ve witnessed Black Lives Matter, COVID, the war in Ukraine, and now Gaza. I know there’s more that doesn’t get the attention either: Congo, Sudan, Yemen and others. Then of course there’s US politics, but that would require its own political essay.

There was also the changing regime in Bangladesh. Student protests turned into greater civil unrest. This eventually led to the unseating of the long term Prime Minister, Sheikh Hasina.

I was very anxious last year as to whether the situation would deteriorate into a military style dictatorship. For now, things have stabilised, but we will have to see how the elections go next year. I felt a fool for not knowing how authoritarian things had gotten under the last government. Political opponents were sent into a jailed ‘House of Mirrors’. People would simply disappear to be tortured and starved. The state would deny any knowledge of them.

I’ve also felt betrayed by British politics. A shift from a supposed left-wing government to one against workers, migrants and trans people leaves me feeling disgusted. Not only is it a failure of following ones own principles, it’s also politically dumb. People who vote Reform are not going to suddenly shift to Labour. Meanwhile, previous core voters like me are wondering whether I will ever vote for the party again, let alone at the next election.

This is probably the first time I’ve acknowledged how much political anger I have, and how much this has been weighing down in my body. I’ve had a pain in my throat for a good number of months. It’s a sign that I’ve not been able to truly express myself.

I believe that there will be big social change coming. It may not happen right away, but the increasing amount of societal friction will inevitably lead to a big change.

But in the meantime, it’s important that we take care of ourselves. For some of us that will mean becoming more vocal – going out and protesting and being more active. And for some of us, that will mean withdrawing, reflecting and observing.

I’m certainly more in the secondary category. The idea of attending protests honestly frightens me. Not because of violence, but because of the amount of overwhelming emotional energy. I’ve had to learn to accept that I’m a more sensitive soul, and my skills to make change are better placed elsewhere.

I do wish that this was valued more. There is an implicit expectation, particularly in activist spaces, that supporting causes means needing to be at public demonstrations. If you don’t turn up, it’s because you don’t care. Yet real societal change has required some of us to do the quieter, less vocal and visible work to really implement things.

Alas, I’ve also learnt is not to get too caught up in these details either. The Universal Law of Nature demonstrates that there is a higher working to this all. We do not need to fix the world’s problems on our own. At the same time, at an individual level we still can do good things. And good actions will lead to good outcomes for us and the world.

Truly letting go to something higher means accessing a deeper belief that we will reach a happier, more united society in the end. Many key activists who fought for equality never even saw these things realised in their lifetime. But that did not deter them from action.

So even in times of strife, we can live feeling happy and hopeful. We can both be connected to the pain in the world but still choose peace and contentment.

In many ways, this is the greatest form of protest.

Riding the emotional downs without guilt

Photo by Alexas_Fotos on Unsplash

For the last few weeks, I’ve been waking up feeling pretty ‘ugh’.

The film Inside Out 2 introduced a new character to personify this. The character was called ‘ennui’, with a stereotypical French manner of ‘bof’.

Ennui is essentially a feeling of disinterest and melancholy. It’s a good description of how I’ve been often feeling in the mornings and late in the evenings. (Although I preferred the first film better)

What’s been jarring about this is how much I’ve actually been doing recently that has felt positive. I’ve been feeling healthier. I’ve had some job interviews and progressing with my other projects.

Yet despite this, I often wake up with little energy to start the day. It’s hard to logically explain, because a few hours later, I can feel completely different. I get going with my life. Things feel in flow, and I’m enjoying my existence.

If I spend too much time thinking about it, I can end up getting super frustrated. After all, how can we have so many emotional shifts within the space of a single day?

When I’m back to feeling good, I end up forgetting about the harder moments. This is generally a good thing. After all, there’s little benefit in lingering on unpleasant emotions when they’re in the past.

But I can also be quick to pretend that I’m ‘fixed’ now. I can ignore the general sense of dissatisfaction and fatigue because I’m not feeling it at that time.

This works, until it doesn’t. The tougher moment comes back. I feel low again. But now, I also start feeling guilty. After all, didn’t I just tell people how things are going well in my life?

The more we get frustrated, the more end up spiralling into negativity. We end up asking ourselves rather dramatic questions: What if there’s something wrong with me? What if this is some form of clinical depression? Perhaps I’m broken, and am doomed to feel like this forever more(!)

With a bit of space and perspective, I can see that such thinking isn’t particularly helpful. After all, we can have a very flowing, calm relationship with our emotions. In fact, we all are pretty good with doing so. But we seem to be much better at practicing such a relationship when the emotions are pleasant ones. It’s a lot harder when they feel uncomfortable.

The moment we start feeling bad, we start to analyse ‘why’. Why do I feel bad? What must I do to shift this experience as quickly as possible?

It’s important to give space and time to experience the emotions, whether pleasant or not. I’m feeling life’s shifts. There are changes going on in my life. Some of these are internal to me. My perspectives on life are shifting, and my physical body is evolving. I also exist in symbiosis with the world. The shifting weather is challenging, and let’s not even mention the political climate.

An important part of life is finding ourselves in challenging situations. This truth is no different for me.

So when I feel in a rut, I usually end up returning to the same conclusion. Trying to force myself out of it rarely works. Sugarcoating my emotions with some ice cream is only a temporary fix. In fact, the idea of that doesn’t even appeal to me, because I know that it could end up making me feel worse after the sugar crash (and the guilt of it too)

And so, instead, this is about letting life be. Emotions come and go. But we persist. I’m proud that I can continue with the things I need to do in my life, even if I feel tired or down.

I used to get quite caught up in the idea that I’m meant to ‘figure out’ what’s going on. But I’ve become a lot more relaxed about that. After all, if there’s something big that I’m meant to be seeing, life has a way of showing it anyway.

What the human body teach us about healing

Photo by Yoann Boyer on Unsplash

A few days ago I went to the Osteopath for a pain in my left shoulder.

The pain is nothing new. I’ve had this pain whenever I do a few sessions of yoga. It’s come back ever since I’ve restarted classes a few weeks ago.

The pain itself is not too bad. I can carry on with my life, as long as I ignore it long enough.

And yet, this didn’t seem like the best way to deal with the problem. Perhaps now was probably the time to actually fix it, rather than just constantly managing the situation.

Essentially, my shoulder muscles have gotten bigger than those in the rotator cuff. If I do certain movements such as a plank or downward dog, this causes an unpleasant compression, which pinches the nerves.

I injured myself when I was 16. Like any adolescent in the gym, I didn’t really know what I was doing. I did some behind-the-head lateral pulldowns and at one point felt a tear in my left shoulder. I’ve since learnt that movement is apparently not recommended because it can cause shoulder injuries. Well here I am 15 years later with that exact issue!

This isn’t the first time I’ve looked into the problem either. I actually was getting it looked at before by another osteopath in London. But then COVID struck, and I stopped going. That was five years ago. The problem didn’t magically disappear.

And so, my new osteopath has just given me exercises. This will strengthen that area and hopefully I stop getting my nerves pinched. If it works, I’m hopeful that I can actually sort out this issue.

What was really interesting about the session with the osteopath was learning how much tension I have – both in the area and in my body in general. I can’t say I’m particularly surprised that I’m tense. Having a year of burnout in the midst of political crisis does that to a human. But what is interesting is how that has a direct effect on my body, and more specifically on my muscular system.

The osteopath asked me to ‘let go’ of my left shoulder. I found it very hard to do so. The concept of letting go control just felt alien. To the point where I didn’t even know what she meant.

So apparently, I spend most of the time tensing my left shoulder. I haven’t even noticed I’ve been doing it. It’s funny, because now that I see it, it’s really obvious. I can directly compare it to my right shoulder, where the muscles are working in ease.

This point around letting go was fascinating for me. It’s quite a different way of looking at it than trying to fix the problem.

For example, whenever I feel pain in the area, there’s a few stretches that I do. But I realise that I’m actually overcompensating with these too. It’s as if I’m stretching everything to somehow pull the body back into it’s place. But the aim rather should be to relax the muscles back into their own groove.

When muscles are working well, we feel pretty relaxed. These intricate, incredible internal systems work like clockwork. We have little idea that they even exist, let alone how they properly work together.

But when something goes wrong, it’s only then that we start to analyse the problem. We poke and prod, looking for a way to fix it. If we get frustrated, we start poking harder. But constantly poking can actually just make the problem worse. It’s like an itch that we keep on scratching until we start to bleed.

True remediation is guiding things back to their natural flow. We focus less on the pain, and more on fixing the actual problem so that we can return back to our base state.

This is as true for a physical injury as it is an emotional one. True healing is when the problem no longer arises. A trauma – whether physical or emotional – is no longer felt. It has vanished into the black hole of the past. It no longer becomes a reference point of how we need to act.

But true healing requires more dedicated, deeper work than sticking a plaster over the problem (In my case, I’ve literally been putting tiger balm on my shoulder).

It’s taken me 15 years to finally deal with the issue of my shoulder.

How long will it take you to deal with yours?