12 Down, 12 Up

My right knee is 'in flare', that is, very painful (rather than just the 'normal' background ache), not reliable in bearing my weight, which in turn affects my balance, stiffer than usual with a reduced ability to bend and painful to straighten fully, feeling like the knee is on sideways and contains a ball of over-tightened rubber bands which break and twang painfully, and generally the cause of much swearing! It wakes me during the night, and between coping with it and not sleeping so well, I feel so tired and lacking in energy.

It's been like this on and off this year and then consistently since mid-August, when I twisted it attempting to stop a shopping trolley with a mind of its own in a blustery wind from wandering off to play with other cars and pedestrians.

I refuse to go back onto oral pain relief, relying instead on the various methods of pain relief I'd found, but even they are sometimes not enough. I looked for information on rest and arthritis and concluded that although 'sit down before you have to' is good advice, the other advice to get 'proper rest' needed a little more exploration. I was also reading about time-restricted eating - restricting meals to a 12 hour or possibly 8 hour window in the day, so I thought I would combine rest and time-restricted eating and see how that went.

The result was reasonably successful. During my 12 hours 'down' horizontal rest, I could do all my horizontal physio exercises, some yoga and mindfulness exercises, check some email and other messages and get some decent sleep and rest to counter nights disturbed by pain.

During my 12 hours 'up', I tried to get everything else done and feed myself.

I've been on this 12 Down, 12 Up for the past six weeks or so. Now, it's time to stop. My knee is better than it was, though still painful. The time-restricted eating has supported my gradual, imperceptibly slow weight loss. I feel well rested. But, I can't do as much as I need to in only 12 hours, things have slipped due to lack of attention and I'm starting to feel like I'm just being lazy (a sign, if any were needed, that my energy levels are back up!)

I didn't discuss it beforehand, knowing that many people who don't live with chronic pain and the resulting fatigue would not understand, nor be sympathetic. Even so, I found it difficult to give myself permission to do this, but I'm glad I did. It's joined my arsenal of potential techniques to manage and live with severe osteoarthritis.

Happy New Year 2016

Well, here we are again. Most of the people I know seem to have had quite an eventful 2015. Some had nice life events; engagements, marriages, babies, new jobs. Some had difficult or sad events such as surgery, deaths of pets or family members. Some had a perfect storm of horrible events; death, divorce, forced sale of their home, diagnoses of chronic and/or serious illness for themselves or family members, car accidents, multiple breakdowns of things like computers and white goods. I don't know what it was about last year, but many people are glad to see the back of it. It was a year of changes for me, but I feel like I got off relatively lightly. My house purchase and move went okay, despite coinciding with exams and a biopsy, the results of which showed nothing to worry about. Although I only managed to get one job interview and that was a 'no', and class attendance has been at an all-time low, the osteoarthritis has been relatively good; all the yoga, mindful movement and daily physio exercises have paid off. Things could be worse.

As ever, the time has flown by since I moved. I see I didn't blog much this year, probably because I would just be repeating myself about cleaning furniture, unpacking boxes, sorting things out. And yet I managed more beach time this year, even if it was less about lolling around with a book in the sunshine and more beach-combing in a chilly breeze.

As I mentioned in a previous post, a lot of the time has gone in problem solving. Working out how to fit furniture into rooms of a different size and shape. Moving bits of furniture and heavy boxes on my own (it's all about levers - I even managed to right my swing seat when the last lot of high winds tipped it over on the patio). Trying to fit things into a kitchen which has more cupboards than my previous one, but paradoxically, less space because the cupboards are all smaller. Drying washing indoors without my beloved laundry maid airer (no space for it in the new place, unfortunately). Getting the computer, TV and other bits of media kit connected. Trying to get the Christmas lights working. (Lay them out flat - a miracle, they all work! Fight with the metres of twisty wires to arrange them on the tree and switch on again, wow, all working! Switch on the next day, a set of 10 has gone off. Uttering my usual mantra 'Okay, I can do this, lots of people do it, how hard can it be?' Find the spare bulbs and set to work trying to find the one that's blown. None of them look as though they have blown. The instructions to 'just ease the bulb out of the holder' belie the difficulty of removing them. A couple of hours and wrecked thumbnails later, I have replaced all 10 bulbs in the loop which failed and not managed to fix the problem. Decided that I need to leave it otherwise I'll never get the tree decorated and add some sort of voltage detector device to the wishlist.)

What is it with me and heating systems though? Back at the beginning of the year, I had a freezing few weeks in my old place when the pump failed, the boiler tripped off and I couldn't get responses or sensible help from heating engineers to fix it. Now, the heating and hot water here have gone wrong. I already knew this heating system would need replacing, and the grand plan was to replace the back boiler with a new combi boiler vented through the roof, and replace the gas fire in the living room with a small woodburner. The quote I had from British Gas for the boiler and plumbing came to £6500, which was pretty much £2000 beyond my budget. I meant to follow through with other quotes, but as each job application was rejected, it seemed impossible that I could afford it in the short term.

In the meantime, the heating and hot water at least worked, after a fashion. I found early on that the timer controller in the airing cupboard didn't actually work, and was told by the seller that they used to leave the heating on 'continuous' in the winter and just let the thermostat switch it on and off. Once I started the heating for the winter, I found that in fact the thermostat didn't seem to work at all. Then, with an alarming whirring noise a few days before Christmas, the heating went off. Switched off and on again. Nothing. Switched on the gas fire - that works. Switched on the hot water, the water doesn't heat but the heating comes on instead. Rummaged around in the airing cupboard, failed to find a separate immersion switch. Gave the 3-way valve a tap or two with a hammer, just in case, but no difference. Called a few heating engineers - all calls went to their telco messaging services and I received no call-backs. Ditto a few calls made between Christmas and New Year. At least I have an electric shower, the washing machine and dishwasher are cold fill, and I can boil a kettle for other washing up, but it's a bit tedious not having hot water on tap when you're used to all mod cons*. I know, #firstworldproblems.

So, the year has turned a corner, the days are supposed to be getting longer (difficult to tell, as the weather continues mild, wet and windy) and in addition to the preparation for this term's classes and the looming tax deadline, I need to find a heating engineer who answers their phone and is willing to tackle an older system to restore my hot water.

Happy 2016! Let's hope it's a good one for all of us!

*Note for non-English readers and space aliens: 'All mod cons' stands for 'all modern conveniences', that is, things like electricity, central heating, hot and cold running water and an indoor bathroom and toilet; a phrase which used to feature in adverts for places to rent or buy and which you don't see any more, presumably because it is taken for granted.

Dancing Mindfully

Mindfulness is a bit of a buzz word at the moment, perhaps because it seems more necessary in our daily lives than ever. Or perhaps it's an idea whose time has come. It involves the deliberately focusing your attention on what's happening in and around you in the present moment, noticing and acknowledging thoughts, feelings and sensations without judgement.

It's been something I've been aware of since I was young, even though I didn't know it was called mindfulness, and didn't practise it regularly. I remember a lesson in primary school when I was six, perhaps seven. We sat quietly with our eyes closed and trying not to fidget, focusing our attention on the sounds of others in the room breathing, the class next door, birds outside, traffic, the warmth of the sun coming through the window, the feel of the wooden seat on bare legs. From time to time since then, I've been reminded how useful mindfulness is and each time, I wonder how I could have forgotten. Mindfulness practice is so called because it needs practice. It's so easy to go through life on auto-pilot, bouncing from one task to the next, planning and looking forward, or thinking about what you could, should, ought to have done or be doing.

Looking back on my year of yoga lessons (with Rose Thorn, Inner Yoga Trust and I thoroughly recommend her as a teacher), I realised it was something quite amazing. I haven't managed to clear a space yet to start my own daily yoga (and dance) practice, haven't found (and anyway, can't afford) another class and I'm missing it. It sorted out a worsening sacroiliac problem; I discovered that I had been unconsciously bracing myself by contracting my glutes and the resulting tension was enough to trigger some inflammation. I had probably started it as a balance strategy. Consciously relaxing and 'softening' the muscles as I was standing still was difficult at first, but seems to have paid off. I used to float out of class feeling great and wake up the following morning feeling as though I had been hit by a bus, so there was obviously a lot of work going on deep in the body. The significant and unexpected bonus was how much it helped me mentally, in terms of my ability to focus my attention inwards on my body, its movement, stillness, relaxation, feelings and breath. After years of twitching restlessly or just falling asleep when I tried to be still and meditate, I re-found my ability to do it and I love it.

The somatics workshops and yoga classes were part of my ongoing portfolio of ways to mitigate and counteract the effects of severe osteoarthritis in my knees and feet, relearning and changing the way I use my body. The new awareness of tension and alignment is allowing me to release tightness, especially in the knees, before the pain builds too much. The combination of range of movement exercises, knee supports, heat, massage, awareness and adjustment of alignment and plenty of rest mean that it's now several months since I needed to take any painkillers.

As a result, I can do more, and dance more, providing I remain mindful of the way I use my body. A carelessly aligned foot and leg during a turn could be enough to cause pain and loss of balance. I had thought I was quite good at listening to my body, but learning to sit down before I need to showed me how much I ignored messages from my body, and that's very much a dancer's thing. In dance training, you learn the technique for the steps or moves and learn to ignore the minor (and sometimes major) aches and pains involved in doing them, the tired and burning feet and muscles. Even as you block some sensations, you are practising some sort of mindfulness as you dance in the moment, in the music, but rely on muscle memory for the movements and choreography, and a sort of subliminal awareness of the space that you dance in and the other dancers around you. Is automaticity the opposite of mindfulness? It seems to me that dancing mindfully requires more practice than everyday mindfulness, as dance involves so many senses, it's impossible to give your full attention to all aspects of dance at the same time.

If you focus your attention on the movements themselves, your face can show that concentration. Breaking the movement down and then putting it back together is an essential part of learning it, but over-thinking can induce analysis-paralysis and tension in the body. Anyone who has learned to dance is familiar with this. Dance looks easy, good dance looks effortless (even if the dancer comes off stage pouring with sweat!). You know you can boogie around to your favourite tunes and you thought you were a pretty good dancer. So you start to dance in a given style and you find it's very difficult. You fight for the shape and the movement and become tense. The tension stops full movement and affects posture, which makes everything harder. You try harder to get it right and instead it goes even more wrong. You get frustrated and cross with yourself. Your mind starts to whirl with thoughts of how to get it right and make your body do what you want it to. You end up losing patience with yourself and with learning to dance. (I have a theory this is why many people like to dance but don't want to learn to dance, preferring dance exercise classes in which they can hide at the back and move any old how, without having to remember a routine or strive for correct movement technique. Following the leader, the movement goes in through the eyes and out through the body but bypasses the brain, a bit like copy-typing.) This is where mindfulness helps; another aspect of mindfulness is recollection, remembering to be aware of something. Remember to relax, stop over-thinking and allow the movement to flow.

Noticing without judgement is a difficult thing. When you are practising and are fully aware of how your body is moving, it's easy to be distracted when you do something wrong. Although you are actually making a judgement that your dancing or movement isn't as good as it should be, the ability to look more objectively at it in order to make improvements is positive and constructive, without wallowing in self-criticism. Part of mindfulness practice is to acknowledge the thought and move on. This is important for rehearsal, as you wouldn't stop and acknowledge a wrong move while performing.

Accepting that it might be impossible to be mindful of every aspect of dance while you're dancing, a good way to incorporate mindfulness in dance practice might be to focus on different aspects for different drills, dance pieces or practice sessions. For example, you might create or learn a movement phrase and repeat it several times, on each repeat shifting the focus:

• The movements themselves; the technical aspects and how they feel in the body
• The transitions between moves and shifts of weight
• Movement difficulties, finding ways to move more easily and reduce the effort required
• The movement dynamics - are they soft, sharp, floating, heavy, percussive, flowing ...?
• The expression brought by the dynamics and the music
• Your breathing. Are you forgetting to breathe, could you use it to assist movements (for example, breathing out on an accent such as a hip drop)?
• The space in which you move, the direction of your body in relation to that space and the movement pathways. (For further information on spatial relationships, see my blog post here.)

If all this sounds a bit too intense and academic, remember that dance can be experienced with all the senses. While dancing freely, try focusing your awareness on each of your senses in turn:

• Listen deeply to the music, its beat and rhythms, all its nuances, the different instruments, how the key/maqam/dromos makes you feel, and the jingle of your hip belt.
• Wear scent, spray a little on your veil or scent the room with a candle or incense stick.
• Feel the costume fabrics, their textures, colours, the glint and sparkle of beads and coins.
• Notice the way your clothing moves. If you're wearing a skirt, hold or brush it outwards so that it catches the air as you move.
• Feel the way the air flows over your bare arms as you move them.
• Look at the way your body is moving (if you have a mirror), or follow the movement of a hand, the colour, drape and float of a veil.
• Take a break, drink some water, feeling the moist coolness in your mouth.

I shall be giving a workshop in Cardigan on November 15th on Graceful Movement, which is something which can be learned and practised mindfully. I'm also planning a workshop (probably January) on Dance Dynamics, those characteristics or qualities of movement which bring contrast, variation and expression to dance movements and are important in musical expression. I'm also giving short sessions of mindful moving meditation at a free healing event at Haverfordwest Cricket Club on 21st November. This can be one-to-one or in small groups, seated or standing, and is great for stilling a whirling mind, relaxing and re-energising the body, so I hope people will come and take advantage as some of my friends will also be there offering reiki and massage, a little bit of personal relaxation time to go with the early Christmas shopping.

Rain Stops Play

Although I wish for higher numbers in class, I have a lot of sympathy for those who take one look outside on these dark, cold nights and decide that snuggling on the sofa with a mug of tea wins against going out to class. The other night while I was changing to go out to teach, I had to fight down the urge to change into my pyjamas and just go to bed with a mug of cocoa. It was windy, pouring with rain, dark and dismal, and it was only the thought of my dancers having to brave the same for their love of the dance that got me going.

I rarely cancel a class, or skip one myself, but sometimes the weather is just too much. Yesterday was a case in point.  Ready to go, I stood at the back door and watched soaking wet birds in the garden. The chaffinches and blue tits were irritable and squabbled constantly. The robin and blackbird were finding some tasty bits from the compost heap, and a couple of song thrushes were pecking at fallen crab apples. I meant to make crab apple, ginger and mint jelly this year, as the fruit set on the apple was very heavy. But it's been raining for weeks, turning the little golden apples from under-ripe to splitting and mouldy within a week.

I set off for yoga class at 4.00 pm, and quickly realised that the deluge I skipped through to shut the hens away and dive into the car had evidently been going on for hours. Ah, the joys of living in the country! There are a few miles of back roads in every direction before I can get onto a main (A-class) road. The roads were starting to resemble a series of streams and lakes. I had to turn back on my first choice of route, because although I have a Fiat Panda 4x4, it's still quite a small car in comparison to a Land Rover, and I met a flooded section I wasn't confident about; I knew the road dipped, but how deep was the water?

After 25 minutes' driving, I was still only 4 miles from home. The water on the roads was getting deeper, it was getting dark, if I did manage to get to class I would be quite late, and I knew the heavy rain was forecast to continue through the night. In the dark, with floods across the roads getting deeper and difficult to see, the return journey would have been a bit stressful, to say the least, even in my relaxed, post-yoga state!

I sent a text to explain and apologise for absence, then turned around and headed home. Already, there was more water across the roads, as it fountained up out of drains, poured off the land through field gates and overflowed the ditches, washing leaves, wood and stones out onto the roads.

Once home, I looked up the weather forecast, mug of tea in hand. The yellow weather warning for heavy rain was in place until 9.00 am this morning. Last winter was extremely wet, so I hope we're not in for a repeat. This is from the Met Office summary:

'Winter 201[3-201]4 was an exceptionally stormy season, with at least 12 major winter storms affecting the UK in two spells from mid-December to early January, and again from late January to mid-February. When considered overall, this was the stormiest period of weather experienced by the UK for at least 20 years. An analysis of pressure fields by the University of East Anglia suggests this winter has had more very severe gale days than any other winter season in a series from 1871.
The persistent heavy rainfall through the season resulted in this being the wettest winter for the UK, England, Wales and Scotland, and the equal-wettest winter for Northern Ireland in series from 1910. It was also the wettest winter in the long running England and Wales Precipitation series from 1766. There were more days of rain during the winter than any other in a series from 1961.'

Residents in the Somerset Levels, which were under water for weeks, may feel that this is an example of British Understatement.

The horrible weather has reminded me that I need to take a look at my severe weather policy for class cancellations. Out here in the Wild West of Wales, even a yellow warning can make road conditions quite dangerous.  I asked to cancel an adult education class back in February when there was a yellow warning, but with a forecast for wind speeds increasing to hurricane force later, and was met with a certain amount of scorn and derision. 'It's only a bit windy. You won't get paid, you know, and you'll have to make the class up at some other time.'  By the time the class members had been contacted, the severe weather warning had changed to amber, and the centre was closed because tiles were beginning to fall off the roof and there was a risk of being hit by flying debris. Only a bit windy.

Needless to say, if an amber weather warning is in force, the class will be cancelled. I don't want anyone to risk driving to class in severe weather like that. In those circumstances, snuggling down on the sofa with a mug of tea is fully justified!