To Swim or not to Swim - that is the question

Recently a church friend invited me to go swimming with her on Monday evenings, the only spare time in her busy schedule. I had to turn her down on account of my prior exercise engagement, namely Ballroom and Latin-American dance lessons. However, it got me thinking …. It seems a long time since I last went swimming – at least 3 years, possibly more than 5 (other than messing about a bit on holidays). Bearing in mind my recent decision to regain fitness, maybe it was time to get back in the water. I checked out the Leisure Centre’s website and discovered that an individual swim session costs £3.40 but a Swimming Membership costs only £20.10 a month and also entitles you to join the early morning swim sessions (from 6 am). As they say on the Real Hustle, if it sounds too good to be true, it probably is. I went along today and enquired, and the minimum commitment is three months, at £20.10 a month by direct debit, plus a one-off admin charge of £15. Committing myself for a month had seemed appealing. Committing myself for three months, less so. I wasn’t even sure if I would LIKE swimming any more, despite having spent so much of my waking hours in water in a former lifetime as a competitive swimmer/lifeguard. Long hair and swimming don’t really mix well, and I’d like to keep the long hair for now.

At 3.30 pm there were only 4 other people in the pool which probably didn’t give me a realistic impression of what the early risers’ club would be like. I set myself a target of just 10 lengths and completed them with energy to spare so put in another 10 for good measure. Once upon a time I could spring out of the water as slick as a seal but 20 lengths in a body unaccustomed to such extravagant energy expenditure left me with barely sufficient strength to lever myself up onto the side – at the point of balance I thought for a moment I was going to slide back in ignominiously. Then of course came the walk home.

So: three months’ swim membership - will I or won’t I?




This photo taken in 2005 is what I'm using to inspire me to regain fitness

The 'Ugh' Factor

We have two composters down the end of the garden and today as I lifted the lid on one, my finger connected with something hiding under the handle that didn’t feel good. I looked and sure enough, just as I thought, it was a slug. There was a time when something like that would have freaked me out a bit but today I accepted it very matter-of-factly without even a shudder of revulsion. Maybe being de-sensitized to the ‘ugh!' factor of gardening is another positive gain of having taken on an allotment. Speaking of the allotment, I was over there yesterday tidying up one of the strawberry beds along with my companion, the juvenile robin. As you can see from the photos, the red breast feathers are starting to grow in.

Patrick gave me a big bag of ripe tomatoes, Dennis offered me a cucumber (which I turned down on account of having bought one at the weekend), and Ian offered me some dwarf French beans (which I turned down on account of having grown some too). Seems we’re a generous lot, us allotment holders.

"It rains because you're sad, baby"

As I wrote on 13th August, I have to get my driving licence renewed annually due to a recent history of serious mental illness. Yesterday I phoned the DVLA to chase progress on issuing the new licence and to ask whether it’s ok for me to drive in the meantime. The person who answered checked my file and said the forms had now been returned, no doubt the licence would be issued very soon but a certificate would be put in the post to confirm I can drive in the interim. Fortunately I didn’t get in the car and start driving because today I received a letter to say that my application has been refused as national standards of fitness to drive advised by the Secretary of State’s Panel of Psychiatrists require at least 3 months of stable mental health with satisfactory compliance with recommended treatment before resuming driving. This was a blow. The two psychiatrists I’ve seen recently have both agreed I’m ok to drive, and took the three month standard as a guideline rather than an absolute. I can appeal, or simply re-apply when eligible. Do I accept the ruling and wait patiently, or take it to appeal (bearing in mind the Zen concept that attachment leads to suffering)? (Following this link will take you off this blog - you can use the 'back' button on your browser to return)

Walked into town in the rain to meet up with friends for coffee. It rained most of the day. “It rains because you’re sad, baby” (Men in Black II)

Blue Eye Shadow

I’d arranged to join a friend (J_) in town for coffee this morning. As I was walking, a memory from my early teen years suddenly came back to me:

The 14 year-old me had put some bright blue eye shadow on and walked across the commons to see a school friend who lived on the other side. Unexpectedly as I had emerged onto the pavement my father was just driving past. He took one look at me, stopped and insisted I get in the car to go home and ‘wash that muck’ off my face, and that I looked like a trollop.

As I thought about this memory, I was thinking how often I have been told I don’t need make-up, and how that reassuring message has set me free to choose. I’d watched a TV programme recently where one mother castigated another for bringing up her girls with the belief that they needed to paint a mask on their faces in order to have confidence to face the world.

Such was the trend of my thoughts as I arrived at the meeting point and waited for J_. When I saw her coming towards me, the first thing I noticed with surprise was her bright blue eye shadow! I made no comment, and we fell into conversation then after a while J_ brought the subject up and explained that she had been upset because Zoom Airline going bankrupt leaves her out of pocket (she had a Zoom return flight to Bermuda booked and paid for). A former work colleague had once told her she needed to brighten herself up a bit by wearing make up – recalling that memory this morning had led to her putting rouge on her cheeks and the blue eye shadow to try and make herself feel brighter.

At the time I made space and listened, trying not to crowd her with my own thoughts and feelings, but later on I was thinking about the synchronicity of the recollection coming to me just before I met her wearing blue eye shadow. That kind of synchronicity seems like a powerful affirmation to me of the concept of Universal Consciousness, of us all being connected. Thinking about how reassuring it has been to me to be told I don’t need make up, I sent J_ an email in which I wrote:

What [former work colleague] told you wasn’t true – you don’t ‘need’ to put on make up to ‘brighten yourself up’. You have a beauty that shines from 'your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God's sight' to quote from 1 Peter chapter 3. I've been reading a book by Eckhart Tolle: 'A New Earth', where he explains the difference between the ego within us and what he terms 'Presence'. It seems that [former work colleague] may have been speaking from Ego rather than from 'Presence' (or holiness/love). It's not to say you can't wear make up if you want to - that choice is yours to make - but to affirm to you that there is a natural beauty within that wants to shine out of you, to be the natural radiance in your face and eyes and life.

If you’re a woman with low self-esteem reading this today, these words are for you, too.

Sharing Abundance

Last night I dropped notes into neighbours’ letterboxes saying there will be free courgettes and copies of courgette recipes on the doorstep this morning and inviting them to help themselves. I’d put them out on the doorstep early then gone back upstairs for my quiet time. One of the Word for Today ‘Bible in a Year’ readings was: Luke 19:11-27 , the ‘Parable of the Ten Minas’ where the servant who has the most to begin with is given even more. Once I’d finished the set readings I turned to the Eckhart Tolle book, ‘A New Earth’ and picked up where I’d left off yesterday. I was reading the passage about abundance (pp 190 – 192) where Tolle recommends we ask ourselves often: “What can I give here; how can I be of service to this person, this situation?”

On my way back downstairs after my reading I had the pleasure of watching through the window two neighbours from different ends of the street standing chatting in the driveway, each clutching a large courgette and a recipe sheet, brought together by my simple act of sharing. I felt a warm glow of satisfaction of having done ‘the right thing’ in sharing the abundance of the allotment produce.

Canoodling carrots

Doorbell rang at 9 am – I opened the door to find a car on the drive and a man I didn’t know on the doorstep. He asked my name, then handed over my new passport – excellent service! Later the Madhur Jaffrey cookery book I bought for 1p off the internet arrived and I sat reading it for a while, then wondered where the morning went. After lunch I went over the allotment to do a bit more work and pick some more crops. Anyone of my generation reading who remembers Esther Rantzen’s TV programme, ‘That’s Life!’? Remember the amusing vegetables they used to feature? How about these:

Canoodling Carrots

Piggy-back - the one on the left in this picture has a baby carrot clinging to its shoulders. The one on the right isn't as amusing in this photo as in the errr.... flesh.

Is it just me that thinks the potato below looks like a bottom?

Gardener's Friend

Spent some time over the allotment reducing the pile of branches pruned from the plum tree, cutting them into smaller pieces to make it easy to transport them off-site. A juvenile robin kept me close company showing not a hint of timidity – perching on the edge of the garden pop-up bag only inches from my hand, and hopping down on the ground beside my boot to eat a worm. I made slow progress with the work, instead enjoying the bold little bird and its tuneful song. I kept stopping to watch, or being a bit delicate about which branches I pulled out so as not to disturb it too much :-)
(It's well-disguised - can you pick it out in the photo above?)