For the past few years, I have been brooding over the issues of volunteering and the widespread perception that the arts should be free. A while ago, the Universe delivered three items for consideration within the same week: a dancer friend had a well-deserved rant over yet another person who wanted her to put on a show for free, and two Radio 4 discussions, one about whether we have a moral obligation to give a percentage of our income to charity, over and above volunteering or donations to charity shops, and another on whether we owe the arts and artists a living (which was primarily about taxes used to subsidise the arts).
Of
course, as a dancer and crafter, I consider the arts as essential and
life-enhancing, although I am aware of a few people (mainly men) who are
all about sports and couldn't give much of a stuff about anything else.
Don't get me started on the emotional blackmail inherent in most charity campaigns, especially those where you are asked to take a no-make-up selfie or film yourself being deluged in a bucket of iced water, and then post the resulting film/photo having paid a contribution. They raise a lot of money, but I notice many people are doing it under peer pressure, to avoid the adverse judgement of their friends and acquaintances. When I become a multi-millionaire, I shall take great pleasure in
subscribing to all of the charities which tug at my heartstrings and
will buy lots of arty, crafty presents. In the meantime, I mainly give
in kind - I source some materials from charity shops, and give the occasional
workshop or performance for 'free'. I admit, I do enjoy the 'feel-good' factor brought on by a spot of altruism, and charity events are often very sociable and fun. However, I earn very little and am not eligible for any benefits. Warm
feelings are lovely but they don't pay the bills. A girl's gotta live on
something, and to give back, you must first have received.
My brooding was originally triggered by another set of three events: there was a fresh round of waffle about the 'Big Society' in the media, I attended a presentation by the Ceredigion Association of Volunteers, at which they stressed that volunteers should never be left 'out of pocket' but admitted that many charities, understandably, did not pay travel or parking costs if they could help it, then I received a flurry of requests for belly dance entertainment, none of which would pay even travel costs ('we can't afford to pay you but please bring your dancers, you can do it for the exposure/experience and advertise your classes', etc). I expect all dancers and musicians are familiar with this one. It seems that artists are not the only ones - writers and speakers are also expected to be willing to work for nothing.
Why do people think entertainment should be for free? Answer: Because they can usually find someone, somewhere, who will volunteer to do it for free. Occasionally, that includes me. But there is a difference between someone who wants work done for free because they don't really value the training, skills and experience which lie behind it, let alone the costs incurred in terms of travel, equipment, costume and so on (and when it comes to entertainment, don't regard it as work because, hey, you do it for fun, right?), and the third sector charity and not-for-profit organisations who rely on volunteers to be able to get things done.
It's amazing just how much voluntary work goes on and, in some cases, is utterly taken for granted. Last year, I saw a local charity advertising for a qualified accountant to be a voluntary, unpaid, full-time financial and administration officer. I suppose they might have got lucky and found someone qualified but retired and looking for a new interest in life. I also saw a job ad for a full time volunteer for another charity which would involve a lot of local travel, in your own car, for which they paid rather less than the current tax-allowed expenses rate of 45p per mile. Considering the poor state of many of the local roads and the increased wear and tear this causes, it hardly seems fair.
In fact,
many people pay for the privilege of volunteering as they incur costs which are seldom, if ever, repaid. You may give your
time for free, but transport between home and a primary place
of work is not an allowable tax expense, so you wouldn't usually get travel costs if you are based in one location such as a shop or office. You make some cakes or biscuits
for a charity event for free, despite the costs of ingredients and fuel
to cook them. You might perform at a charity event, but have to pay a concessionary ticket price for the evening on the basis that you'll be watching the other performers. If you organise an event, you may make phone calls and
extra visits to a venue, create posters to advertise it and print them -
for free. Perhaps you buy cheap yarn or fabrics to make stuffed toys
or little hats for premature babies. Most of the data collected on
wildlife such as birds, butterflies and moths is done by by volunteers,
giving their time and expertise, buying their own equipment, paying their own fuel and parking
costs. Sadly, all of this support is not generally considered as 'giving to charity'. You do it for love, so it's dismissed as a 'hobby'. But time is money. It would be fascinating to know the total value of casual work done for charities in the UK.
I believe that money isn't everything and you should do what you love. You never know where these things will lead. I've done a few performances where we dancers were well looked after in recognition that we were donating our services while others were donating money, and we've had a wonderful time. I like to barter my workshops for others' workshops or services; giving and receiving time and services in lieu of paying or being paid seems like a fair exchange. Getting something out for putting something in, rather than feeling used, is what makes all the difference.
Last year, I found a local Age Cymru Over 50s gentle exercise class and joined in just so that I could meet some people in my new area. It was very cheap, huge fun, and finished with chat over tea and cakes. As a bonus, it has led to a couple of engagements to talk about belly dance. I was very impressed that the exercises were mostly seated, so properly low impact, safe and effective. The social side is also important, fostering new friendships and support networks. Then I had the opportunity to train as a LIFT (Low Impact Functional Training) leader for Age Cymru, so I took it. I've completed and passed the 4-day course, and also updated my emergency first aid during a volunteer day. The training course was extremely well put together and delivered, with very good supporting materials. I've already covered a couple of classes for other leaders who are on holiday, although I'm still waiting for my pack of props such as exercise bands. I may not be paid for my time, but I get to do something fun which can make a positive difference to people's lives. It's difficult to put a value on that.
A reflective journal of my Dancing, Gardening, Arts and Crafts, Working, Domesticated and Wild Life.
Saturday, 16 April 2016
Monday, 14 March 2016
Preserving the View from Here
One of the reasons I chose this house was the open view from the back bedroom across the adjacent farm fields (used for grazing horses) and over farmland out towards the Preselis to the north and Freystrop to the east. There may be a general lack of garden birds, but those taking advantage of the closely-grazed and lightly-poached fields provide daily interest, especially the gulls as they do a little dance, stamping their feet to bring worms to the surface. At the start of February, a flock of nearly 200 Lapwings swirled in, glittering in flight as their dark iridescent wings contrasted with white breasts, and settled for a while. I happened to see them while I was doing some housework, so took a photo - the only way I could count them as they moved across the field. I know some come in at night, too, as I hear them calling, although it could just be one or two vocal individuals trying to locate others in the dark.
Last September, I was rather alarmed to learn that there was an outline planning application for housing on the fields between my close and the farm. The application had been made in July, which was why nothing came up when I had my survey done, which showed that the fields were outside the Local Development Plan (LDP) and therefore (theoretically) safe from housing development. However, 'affordable housing' is a hot topic, and can be used as justification for development on an 'exception site', which is the case here. Not that my neighbours and I were copied the planning notice, as we were deemed non-adjacent and therefore not directly impacted, (huh!). This may be the largest village in Pembrokeshire, but it is a village, with two or three generations of families born and still living here, and people are generally friendly and talk to one another. The phrase much used in the Welshries 'mae pawb yn nabod pawb' - everybody knows everybody - is true here in Little England Beyond Wales too. Interestingly, although the need for affordable housing is supposed to be based on known local requirements, nobody I've spoken to knows anyone who would be a candidate.
Looking at the documents available against the planning application online, you would think that it's unlikely to go ahead, with potential issues over whether existing mains sewers and drainage systems can cope with the output and rainfall run-off from additional properties and an objection from Highways over the access to the site. However, local gossip is rather more worrying and the rumour mill has been whirring away. The site access was an issue because in order to be wide enough, the developers would need to purchase some garden from one or both of the bungalows flanking the entrance. If both sets of owners stayed put and refused to sell, it would stop the development, but apparently one set of owners has been so upset by the potential for development that they have sold up ... and their property has been bought by someone with a stake in the development. The bungalows have quite small back gardens, and would be quite overlooked by the proposed two-storey houses and flats.
The land is currently used for equestrian grazing, so it is of low biodiversity value, although there are protected species such as toads, grass snakes and slow worms present (although not found by the ecology 'survey', which was just a quick snapshot). From everything I've read, equestrian grazing is greenfield land, but people have been told that it's a brownfield site, which is harder to defend from development (although the biodiversity value of some brownfield sites is quite astonishing). The proposal to create a new hedgebank on the northern site boundary would actually increase the biodiversity value. The site plan shows the boundary for the 'Phase 1' of 25 'dwellings', but also shows a 'Phase 2' area which would extend to my back fence, without further details and with only an implied boundary on the north side. If Phase 1 goes ahead, there will be nothing to stop Phase 2. Having built on the land, there would be nothing to stop the land becoming part of the local development plan when it is revised in several years' time. And rumour has it that enough land has been bought for there to be a Phase 3 adjacent to Phase 2, which will require a second access road, the obvious place for which will be at the end of my bit of road. There are currently garages owned by the Council, but they could agree to demolish them. Our road is already used for parking along one side and driving along it can be something of a dance, neighbours giving way to each other to proceed or park. It would be impossible if also used for access to another close of houses, besides which, where would all those who currently use the garages park their vehicles? There may be more public transport here than where I was before, but if you want to get to work on time or have any sort of evening activities, you still need a car. I note from the planning application that there is provision for parking for each new dwelling, although you might expect someone needing affordable housing might not necessarily be able to afford a car.
The local development plan includes a couple of other areas for housing development, which would include some affordable housing. There appears to be no progress on those sites. A new local primary school is currently being built on land on the other side of the farm (which was outside the LDP), including additional spaces based on the LDP proposed housing, but not for any additional children from this new proposed development (although most of the new dwellings are one-bedroom, therefore unlikely to need child places). Of course, there is no proposal for expansion to the existing healthcare services at all. Nor is there any plan to cope with additional traffic in and through the village; getting out of the side-roads onto the A road which bisects the village can be a nightmare, requiring patience and luck as you wait for a gap to appear in the almost continuous flow of traffic, or a driver to take pity and let you out.
The problem with the planning system is that it only shows the required applications and reports for the planning application in hand. The objection letters are supposed to be available to view, but I never see them on the online planning portal, possibly because mostly they just contain opinions. Although there are standard requirements for reports from highways, water and drainage, biodiversity and archaeology, there seems to be little consideration of local infrastructure such as healthcare and public transport.
As for gossip and rumour, they feed a hysteria which has given rise to proposals to pay someone expert to speak on behalf of the residents to defend our wishes for the development not to proceed. But gossip and rumour are heresay, and for anyone to defend us effectively, they will need to have hard evidence of the sort that anyone with a vested interest in the development would try to ensure was not publicly available.
So, despite my sympathy for those needing affordable housing and the theoretical potential to build a more prosperous and thriving community, I am a NIMBY*. If I'd wanted to be overlooked on all sides, have my view of the sky occluded by buildings and my ears assaulted by the sounds of other people's daily lives and heavy traffic, I would have lived in a town or city. Instead, I want to be able to see the horizon and hear the voices of Lapwings in the night.
*Not In My Back Yard, thank you so very much!
Last September, I was rather alarmed to learn that there was an outline planning application for housing on the fields between my close and the farm. The application had been made in July, which was why nothing came up when I had my survey done, which showed that the fields were outside the Local Development Plan (LDP) and therefore (theoretically) safe from housing development. However, 'affordable housing' is a hot topic, and can be used as justification for development on an 'exception site', which is the case here. Not that my neighbours and I were copied the planning notice, as we were deemed non-adjacent and therefore not directly impacted, (huh!). This may be the largest village in Pembrokeshire, but it is a village, with two or three generations of families born and still living here, and people are generally friendly and talk to one another. The phrase much used in the Welshries 'mae pawb yn nabod pawb' - everybody knows everybody - is true here in Little England Beyond Wales too. Interestingly, although the need for affordable housing is supposed to be based on known local requirements, nobody I've spoken to knows anyone who would be a candidate.
Looking at the documents available against the planning application online, you would think that it's unlikely to go ahead, with potential issues over whether existing mains sewers and drainage systems can cope with the output and rainfall run-off from additional properties and an objection from Highways over the access to the site. However, local gossip is rather more worrying and the rumour mill has been whirring away. The site access was an issue because in order to be wide enough, the developers would need to purchase some garden from one or both of the bungalows flanking the entrance. If both sets of owners stayed put and refused to sell, it would stop the development, but apparently one set of owners has been so upset by the potential for development that they have sold up ... and their property has been bought by someone with a stake in the development. The bungalows have quite small back gardens, and would be quite overlooked by the proposed two-storey houses and flats.
The land is currently used for equestrian grazing, so it is of low biodiversity value, although there are protected species such as toads, grass snakes and slow worms present (although not found by the ecology 'survey', which was just a quick snapshot). From everything I've read, equestrian grazing is greenfield land, but people have been told that it's a brownfield site, which is harder to defend from development (although the biodiversity value of some brownfield sites is quite astonishing). The proposal to create a new hedgebank on the northern site boundary would actually increase the biodiversity value. The site plan shows the boundary for the 'Phase 1' of 25 'dwellings', but also shows a 'Phase 2' area which would extend to my back fence, without further details and with only an implied boundary on the north side. If Phase 1 goes ahead, there will be nothing to stop Phase 2. Having built on the land, there would be nothing to stop the land becoming part of the local development plan when it is revised in several years' time. And rumour has it that enough land has been bought for there to be a Phase 3 adjacent to Phase 2, which will require a second access road, the obvious place for which will be at the end of my bit of road. There are currently garages owned by the Council, but they could agree to demolish them. Our road is already used for parking along one side and driving along it can be something of a dance, neighbours giving way to each other to proceed or park. It would be impossible if also used for access to another close of houses, besides which, where would all those who currently use the garages park their vehicles? There may be more public transport here than where I was before, but if you want to get to work on time or have any sort of evening activities, you still need a car. I note from the planning application that there is provision for parking for each new dwelling, although you might expect someone needing affordable housing might not necessarily be able to afford a car.
The local development plan includes a couple of other areas for housing development, which would include some affordable housing. There appears to be no progress on those sites. A new local primary school is currently being built on land on the other side of the farm (which was outside the LDP), including additional spaces based on the LDP proposed housing, but not for any additional children from this new proposed development (although most of the new dwellings are one-bedroom, therefore unlikely to need child places). Of course, there is no proposal for expansion to the existing healthcare services at all. Nor is there any plan to cope with additional traffic in and through the village; getting out of the side-roads onto the A road which bisects the village can be a nightmare, requiring patience and luck as you wait for a gap to appear in the almost continuous flow of traffic, or a driver to take pity and let you out.
The problem with the planning system is that it only shows the required applications and reports for the planning application in hand. The objection letters are supposed to be available to view, but I never see them on the online planning portal, possibly because mostly they just contain opinions. Although there are standard requirements for reports from highways, water and drainage, biodiversity and archaeology, there seems to be little consideration of local infrastructure such as healthcare and public transport.
As for gossip and rumour, they feed a hysteria which has given rise to proposals to pay someone expert to speak on behalf of the residents to defend our wishes for the development not to proceed. But gossip and rumour are heresay, and for anyone to defend us effectively, they will need to have hard evidence of the sort that anyone with a vested interest in the development would try to ensure was not publicly available.
So, despite my sympathy for those needing affordable housing and the theoretical potential to build a more prosperous and thriving community, I am a NIMBY*. If I'd wanted to be overlooked on all sides, have my view of the sky occluded by buildings and my ears assaulted by the sounds of other people's daily lives and heavy traffic, I would have lived in a town or city. Instead, I want to be able to see the horizon and hear the voices of Lapwings in the night.
*Not In My Back Yard, thank you so very much!
Friday, 26 February 2016
The Windmills of Your Mind
I love the effects of changing light, colours and patterns, whether it's
looking at a blue sky through a canopy of gently moving leaves, the
sparkle of sunlight on moving water, or even the glitter of sequins and
beads on a dancer's costume. In the ongoing effort to get my new office/workroom sorted out, I'm revamping a stack of nesting quadrant boxes by covering them in self-adhesive holographic foil, which will create some bright and beautiful storage on the back corner of my sewing desk. The downside may be that I just sit and gaze at them, mesmerised by the shifting spectra (honestly, I can give it up any time I want to ...). At least my sewing notions will be neatly stored and free from dust and cat hair!
During unpacking, I found a kaleidoscope which I bought to entertain the step-children (well, that was my excuse, although it's not a patch on the tin one I had when I was young. I don't know what happened to that one, probably broken and binned long ago!) There is something fascinating in the way the mirrors create different patterns, no two ever the same. Now I've got a digital kaleidoscope, and can create endless patterns from some of my photos, but the key is finding the right original photo. The kaleidoscopic images from some photos are completely uninteresting or way too messy, while others create such nice patterns that it's difficult to choose. I am quite fascinated by the images and play with them until I feel I've found the right one.
A few years ago, I started creating images for sale on various print-on-demand sites such as RedBubble and Zazzle, but was dithering over whether they were good enough, the sort of images I wanted to create, how to achieve that and various related technical issues. Plus, some of the artwork on these sites is totally awesome, would anyone look at mine? But, to my amazement, a few lovely people have bought items using my images! I realised that it is hopeless comparing yourself to other artists, and trying to second-guess what people will want to look at or buy. In publishing our art, we're creating diversity and abundance, something for everyone.
Recently, I was chatting to my artist friend Heidi Norman about my former lack of confidence in my work, and my renewed drive to create the sets of images I have planned. Heidi, knowing that I tend to be a perfectionist and a powerhouse of creative ideas herself, encouraged more of a 'just do it' attitude. After all, I have quite a lot of digital images to play with. I've also started to unpack the old photo albums (and umpteen packs of prints which hadn't made it into the albums at the time of packing up a previous life!)
So I’ve rebooted myself, and have been busy creating and loading new images, especially digital art to add to the Belly Dance collection and the Kaleidoscope Mandala Art for Celtic Festivals, Chakras, Starflakes (is it a snowflake or a star, or both?) and a growing collection of bits and pieces involving things like flowers, butterflies, lights and concepts of the natural world such as the seasons and elements.
I refer to them as Kaleidoscope Mandalas, as they aren't traditional mandalas of symbolic images in a geometric shape, but the kaleidoscopic mirroring creates repeated patterns which act like a mandala, as a focus for attention and aid to meditation. As you look, your eyes are drawn around the outer circles of the pattern and into the centre. As your whirling thoughts slow down and start to freewheel, your mind picks out different shapes; faces, crowns, hearts, butterflies, dragonflies, aliens, robots, birds, dancing figures with upraised arms, goddesses, Buddhas, scarab beetles, angels, temples, petals, arrows, feathers, flames.
Apparently, the Swiss psychoanalyst Carl Jung believed the urge to make mandalas emerged at times of intense personal growth and change. This sounds about right to me. I haven't felt such a strong drive to create in years, and it certainly has been a year of changes for me.
It takes some time to upload new work, create and edit various product offerings, but you can now find increasing amounts of my work on the following sites:
RedBubble http://www.redbubble.com/people/imagomoth
Zazzle http://www.zazzle.co.uk/dancingmoth*
DeviantArt http://dancingmoth.deviantart.com/
Cafépress http://www.cafepress.co.uk/profile/dancingmoth
Please feel free to treat yourself and make me a few pennies in commissions! ;)
Depending on your browser and plugins, you may be able to see my Zazzle panel in the right-hand column, scrolling through various products and images. You can also find Heidi on RedBubble and her Spanglefish website. She is also translating some of her designs for clothing through Vida, well worth a look (or better still, a pre-order!).
Current earworm: The Windmills of Your Mind (but the Kaleidoscope Mandalas are something of an antidote to the restless, troubling thoughts!)
During unpacking, I found a kaleidoscope which I bought to entertain the step-children (well, that was my excuse, although it's not a patch on the tin one I had when I was young. I don't know what happened to that one, probably broken and binned long ago!) There is something fascinating in the way the mirrors create different patterns, no two ever the same. Now I've got a digital kaleidoscope, and can create endless patterns from some of my photos, but the key is finding the right original photo. The kaleidoscopic images from some photos are completely uninteresting or way too messy, while others create such nice patterns that it's difficult to choose. I am quite fascinated by the images and play with them until I feel I've found the right one.
A few years ago, I started creating images for sale on various print-on-demand sites such as RedBubble and Zazzle, but was dithering over whether they were good enough, the sort of images I wanted to create, how to achieve that and various related technical issues. Plus, some of the artwork on these sites is totally awesome, would anyone look at mine? But, to my amazement, a few lovely people have bought items using my images! I realised that it is hopeless comparing yourself to other artists, and trying to second-guess what people will want to look at or buy. In publishing our art, we're creating diversity and abundance, something for everyone.
Recently, I was chatting to my artist friend Heidi Norman about my former lack of confidence in my work, and my renewed drive to create the sets of images I have planned. Heidi, knowing that I tend to be a perfectionist and a powerhouse of creative ideas herself, encouraged more of a 'just do it' attitude. After all, I have quite a lot of digital images to play with. I've also started to unpack the old photo albums (and umpteen packs of prints which hadn't made it into the albums at the time of packing up a previous life!)
So I’ve rebooted myself, and have been busy creating and loading new images, especially digital art to add to the Belly Dance collection and the Kaleidoscope Mandala Art for Celtic Festivals, Chakras, Starflakes (is it a snowflake or a star, or both?) and a growing collection of bits and pieces involving things like flowers, butterflies, lights and concepts of the natural world such as the seasons and elements.
I refer to them as Kaleidoscope Mandalas, as they aren't traditional mandalas of symbolic images in a geometric shape, but the kaleidoscopic mirroring creates repeated patterns which act like a mandala, as a focus for attention and aid to meditation. As you look, your eyes are drawn around the outer circles of the pattern and into the centre. As your whirling thoughts slow down and start to freewheel, your mind picks out different shapes; faces, crowns, hearts, butterflies, dragonflies, aliens, robots, birds, dancing figures with upraised arms, goddesses, Buddhas, scarab beetles, angels, temples, petals, arrows, feathers, flames.
Apparently, the Swiss psychoanalyst Carl Jung believed the urge to make mandalas emerged at times of intense personal growth and change. This sounds about right to me. I haven't felt such a strong drive to create in years, and it certainly has been a year of changes for me.
It takes some time to upload new work, create and edit various product offerings, but you can now find increasing amounts of my work on the following sites:
RedBubble http://www.redbubble.com/people/imagomoth
Zazzle http://www.zazzle.co.uk/dancingmoth*
DeviantArt http://dancingmoth.deviantart.com/
Cafépress http://www.cafepress.co.uk/profile/dancingmoth
Please feel free to treat yourself and make me a few pennies in commissions! ;)
Depending on your browser and plugins, you may be able to see my Zazzle panel in the right-hand column, scrolling through various products and images. You can also find Heidi on RedBubble and her Spanglefish website. She is also translating some of her designs for clothing through Vida, well worth a look (or better still, a pre-order!).
Current earworm: The Windmills of Your Mind (but the Kaleidoscope Mandalas are something of an antidote to the restless, troubling thoughts!)
Tuesday, 5 January 2016
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.
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.
Monday, 14 December 2015
December Already?
So it is! The weeks have been flying by and it's now only a week until Yule!
Apparently, November was unusually warm. Not that we had much sun - it was also unusually dull and wet. The relative warmth was due to the lack of frost here, only one real frost so far this winter and that didn't occur until around the 21/22 November. I can't remember the exact date, and didn't take a photo even though the fields behind the house looked rather nice dusted with ice, but I do remember thinking that it was about a month late compared to where I used to live.
We've had four winter storms in the seven weeks or so since the Met Office and Met Eireann started the named storms project to raise awareness of severe weather and to track how many storms we get over winter. I don't think I need my awareness raised, but it seems some people still don't take enough notice of severe weather warnings.
I understand that storms and severe weather warnings (and for that matter, the EA flood warnings) have a linked but separate existence, but I'm unclear on the criteria for a storm and for severe weather warnings. South West Wales was outside the area for severe weather warnings during storm Desmond, and yet there was heavy rain, flooding, and damage from high winds. In fact, when I went out to teach the other Thursday evening as storm Desmond started to build, it felt worse than on the previous Monday, when I cancelled a class due to the (then) severe weather warning. I left a comment on the Met Office Facebook page asking for clarification; given a reasonably high likelihood of the forecast, how much rain and how high a wind speed/gusts are required to be thought impactful enough to generate the severe weather warning? And when is stormy weather bad enough to be a named storm? Unfortunately, it seems the Met Office doesn't answer their visitor posts. And, judging from some of the comments on their posts, many of their visitors don't read the older posts or really understand the forecasts either, so there's lots of whinging comments about naming storms and the inaccuracy of forecasts.
I'm seeing far more birds now than earlier in the year, including a Robin who regularly comes to the garden, Blue Tits searching out spiders from the window frames and many more Starlings. The Swallows slipped away gradually at the end of the summer, and although I've seen flocks of winter thrushes flying over, none seem to settle on the horse fields behind the house. Back in September, there were often early morning skeins of geese flying over and I saw a Kestrel out looking for lunch one day when I was emptying the compost caddy into the main bins.
Apparently, November was unusually warm. Not that we had much sun - it was also unusually dull and wet. The relative warmth was due to the lack of frost here, only one real frost so far this winter and that didn't occur until around the 21/22 November. I can't remember the exact date, and didn't take a photo even though the fields behind the house looked rather nice dusted with ice, but I do remember thinking that it was about a month late compared to where I used to live.
We've had four winter storms in the seven weeks or so since the Met Office and Met Eireann started the named storms project to raise awareness of severe weather and to track how many storms we get over winter. I don't think I need my awareness raised, but it seems some people still don't take enough notice of severe weather warnings.
I understand that storms and severe weather warnings (and for that matter, the EA flood warnings) have a linked but separate existence, but I'm unclear on the criteria for a storm and for severe weather warnings. South West Wales was outside the area for severe weather warnings during storm Desmond, and yet there was heavy rain, flooding, and damage from high winds. In fact, when I went out to teach the other Thursday evening as storm Desmond started to build, it felt worse than on the previous Monday, when I cancelled a class due to the (then) severe weather warning. I left a comment on the Met Office Facebook page asking for clarification; given a reasonably high likelihood of the forecast, how much rain and how high a wind speed/gusts are required to be thought impactful enough to generate the severe weather warning? And when is stormy weather bad enough to be a named storm? Unfortunately, it seems the Met Office doesn't answer their visitor posts. And, judging from some of the comments on their posts, many of their visitors don't read the older posts or really understand the forecasts either, so there's lots of whinging comments about naming storms and the inaccuracy of forecasts.
I'm seeing far more birds now than earlier in the year, including a Robin who regularly comes to the garden, Blue Tits searching out spiders from the window frames and many more Starlings. The Swallows slipped away gradually at the end of the summer, and although I've seen flocks of winter thrushes flying over, none seem to settle on the horse fields behind the house. Back in September, there were often early morning skeins of geese flying over and I saw a Kestrel out looking for lunch one day when I was emptying the compost caddy into the main bins.
In the last week of November, I started to see Lapwings over and on the horse fields, with numbers building daily from 16, then 30, then 45, then 75. The flock flew back,
forth and around, spilling a few members at a time until all were on the
ground. They were happy enough on the ground with a few rugged-up ponies, Starlings, Rooks, Jackdaws and a mix of Herring and Black-Headed Gulls, but the
occasional loud bangs from the other side of Langford Farm, where the new
school is being built, was enough to send them all into the sky again,
presumably in search of somewhere more peaceful. I reported this sighting to the Pembrokeshire Birds blog, which contains all sorts of sightings. Pembrokeshire is outstanding for birding, with passage migrants, accidentals and a huge variety of resident birds. If you want to do a spot of birdwatching and want to know where to look and what to look for, it's worth checking out the blog!
Over the following couple of days, the numbers of Lapwings reduced and I haven't seen any now since probably the beginning of December. On one of the last sightings, there was a glimmer of sun between showers which really set off the iridescence of the feathers as 30 or so Lapwings sheltered on a muddy strip of the field, poached by the horses' hooves as they wandered up and down a line of electric tape fencing. Everything was peaceful until some Herring Gulls started to get stroppy with a Buzzard, who had evidently wandered into their personal space. There has often been a rather wet and sorry-looking Buzzard pacing around the fields, presumably taking advantage of worms, slugs and other invertebrates in the grass. On one occasion there were two Buzzards, presumably a pair since they wandered around happily only a few metres apart from each other. Anyway, the Lapwings were fine with the Buzzard, but the Herring Gulls saw it off.
The colder weather has revealed what an unevenly-heated house this is. Downstairs is quite draughty, especially the extension, where the wind sounds like a kazoo as it forces its way in past the seals on the side door and through the outlet hole for a tumble drier. The big windows, so great for solar gain, are pretty cold when there's no sun. Suddenly, insulating tape, curtain poles and lined curtains have appeared on my priority list. And in order to put the curtain poles up, (once I decide what I want and can afford it!), I needed a combi-drill. When I was thinking about curtains, I suddenly realised that this is the first time I'm in a place where I can please myself about decor. No landlord, parents or partner to allow or object and the only compromises are related to the structure of the house and what I can afford (currently, not a lot!). The second realisation was that I no longer have any idea what I like or want by way of decor!
Cleaning, unpacking and sorting is still ongoing. It's a good job I have a lot of dusters and I get some daily satisfaction from tossing used ones into their wash-bin. I thought I would have finished within six months, but it is something of a constant problem-solving exercise and there's only so much I have the time and energy (and money!) for every day. For example, the co-ax cable from the TV aerial was too short to reach the TV. I was sure I had an extension cable, so unpacked more boxes until I found it. Then found the connector on one end was wrong and I didn't have an adapter, so went to buy an adapter, but couldn't find just the adapter, so had to buy another extension. I still haven't found the cause of the problem with my turntable, although I solved the problem with the speaker connections. And I think I may have a solution for using the old video player for playback, but need a type of lead which I definitely don't have anywhere and haven't been able to find in town. Similarly, I also need a wireless dongle for the TV, now that I can't easily run cable from the router to the TV.
One of the next jobs is to find the Christmas decorations, which have gone unused for at least six years, and make the place feel more festive. My place is looking a bit drab compared to the neighbours'. I've had two 'Christmas' dos already - a meal at a local pub with the local over-50s exercise class, and the Ceredigion belly dance classes' party which is always great fun. I was thinking of having a Yule party, but a friend has invited me to hers instead.
A late lunch, one of the cats and the To Do list are all calling me ....
Saturday, 28 November 2015
Not Meant To Be
I'm something of a believer in whether things are meant to be, or not. Whether you attribute it to the mysterious movings of the universe, serendipity, coincidence, fate, karma, predestiny, messages from God or the angels, there are times when you get the feeling that things are conspiring against a course of action. Then you have a choice; fight on and try to make it happen, or accept that some things are not meant to be. Of course, you may not believe in this and consider it a defeatist attitude, that you can make anything happen and do anything if you want it badly enough. I agree that some things are worth giving your all, but some are not. Pick your battles!
Last week I planned to treat myself to a somatics workshop. It's so long since I went up to Penpynfarch and I live even further away now, but the application of what I've learned in previous workshops has shown some subtle but positive results, both in dance and in managing the osteoarthritis.
Knowing I would hit the local rush hour, I gave myself an extra half an hour on the journey time suggested by the AA. The weather forecast was not good; Barney, the second of the Met Office/Met Eireann named storms was due. It would make for a horrible journey home, with a yellow warning for high winds starting from mid afternoon, but I reckoned if I stuck to main roads once out of Llandysul, it would be okay.
I set off on time and had only gone a couple of miles when I joined a queue of traffic into Haverfordwest. It took me all of my spare half hour to get past the town (normally a ten minute drive!), with red lights all the way. It was pouring with rain, blustery wind dumping bucketfuls onto the windscreens and roads. Drivers sensibly slowed down, but I got to a point on a road without a good place to overtake where I was behind a laden cattle truck grinding away at 20 miles an hour. Each time we came to a junction, I was muttering 'please turn off', but no, it looked like it was going my way. I could see a tailback in my rear view mirror, and I bet those drivers were muttering something too.
By the time I had been driving for over an hour and a half, I had made 25 miles - half way - and had a splitting headache. I stopped at a garage for a toilet break and a drink of water. If I carried on in this worsening weather, I would get there in time for lunch, but feel compelled to set off early to avoid the worst of the weather. And I would hardly be able to move after driving for so long. Feeling like a complete and utter wimp, I decided to turn around and go back. Back up over the Preselis, through a pea-soup of low cloud and lashing rain. The cattle grid at Bwlch Gwynt was underwater, and the rain ran in rivulets down the roads to pool in the dips.
It took me nearly an hour and a half to get back home, too; a round trip of 50 plus miles in 3 hours. Knees stiff from driving, I dragged myself upstairs to email an apology, then into the kitchen to make a vegetable and bean stew, one of my ideal winter comfort foods.
I was waiting for a call to let me know the results of a job interview the previous day, but didn't get the call until a week later. It was a 'no', but at least they called with feedback, reinforcing my feeling that they would have been a good company to work for. Another thing that wasn't meant to be.
As I was writing this, I checked my email for a reply to another application, which seemed to be taking a long time. Sure enough, I had an email at last ... and it was a 'no'. It left me wondering what it takes, since I was sure I'd effectively ticked every skill and attribute in the job and personnel description. I can only hope that the two friends I know who were after the same job at least get an interview.
I've been pouring energy into trying to find employment, searching job sites, updating CVs, sending applications, reading around companies and skills in preparation for interviews which hardly ever happen. At a time when class numbers and commitment are low, and nobody seems to have money for anything which they consider non-essential (including proofreading!) I had hoped that employment would give me some money and security. Perhaps that's not meant to be.
Time to look again at my Plan B, and see what it would take to make it (or something like it) work. It will probably be a case of fighting to make it happen, but I would like to think that this time next year, things will be different.
Last week I planned to treat myself to a somatics workshop. It's so long since I went up to Penpynfarch and I live even further away now, but the application of what I've learned in previous workshops has shown some subtle but positive results, both in dance and in managing the osteoarthritis.
Knowing I would hit the local rush hour, I gave myself an extra half an hour on the journey time suggested by the AA. The weather forecast was not good; Barney, the second of the Met Office/Met Eireann named storms was due. It would make for a horrible journey home, with a yellow warning for high winds starting from mid afternoon, but I reckoned if I stuck to main roads once out of Llandysul, it would be okay.
I set off on time and had only gone a couple of miles when I joined a queue of traffic into Haverfordwest. It took me all of my spare half hour to get past the town (normally a ten minute drive!), with red lights all the way. It was pouring with rain, blustery wind dumping bucketfuls onto the windscreens and roads. Drivers sensibly slowed down, but I got to a point on a road without a good place to overtake where I was behind a laden cattle truck grinding away at 20 miles an hour. Each time we came to a junction, I was muttering 'please turn off', but no, it looked like it was going my way. I could see a tailback in my rear view mirror, and I bet those drivers were muttering something too.
By the time I had been driving for over an hour and a half, I had made 25 miles - half way - and had a splitting headache. I stopped at a garage for a toilet break and a drink of water. If I carried on in this worsening weather, I would get there in time for lunch, but feel compelled to set off early to avoid the worst of the weather. And I would hardly be able to move after driving for so long. Feeling like a complete and utter wimp, I decided to turn around and go back. Back up over the Preselis, through a pea-soup of low cloud and lashing rain. The cattle grid at Bwlch Gwynt was underwater, and the rain ran in rivulets down the roads to pool in the dips.
It took me nearly an hour and a half to get back home, too; a round trip of 50 plus miles in 3 hours. Knees stiff from driving, I dragged myself upstairs to email an apology, then into the kitchen to make a vegetable and bean stew, one of my ideal winter comfort foods.
I was waiting for a call to let me know the results of a job interview the previous day, but didn't get the call until a week later. It was a 'no', but at least they called with feedback, reinforcing my feeling that they would have been a good company to work for. Another thing that wasn't meant to be.
As I was writing this, I checked my email for a reply to another application, which seemed to be taking a long time. Sure enough, I had an email at last ... and it was a 'no'. It left me wondering what it takes, since I was sure I'd effectively ticked every skill and attribute in the job and personnel description. I can only hope that the two friends I know who were after the same job at least get an interview.
I've been pouring energy into trying to find employment, searching job sites, updating CVs, sending applications, reading around companies and skills in preparation for interviews which hardly ever happen. At a time when class numbers and commitment are low, and nobody seems to have money for anything which they consider non-essential (including proofreading!) I had hoped that employment would give me some money and security. Perhaps that's not meant to be.
Time to look again at my Plan B, and see what it would take to make it (or something like it) work. It will probably be a case of fighting to make it happen, but I would like to think that this time next year, things will be different.
Friday, 13 November 2015
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:
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.)
- 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.
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