health

If you’re happy and you know it, be sure to mention it

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We spend a lot of our adult lives learning how to tell people that we want things to change.

We go on training at work about how to give feedback. We listen to radio phone-ins about how to ask fellow commuters to be more considerate. We read agony aunt column after agony aunt column about how to get our spouse to PLEASE JUST CHANGE THE TOILET ROLL FOR ONCE IN YOUR LIFE FOR THE LOVE OF ANDREX.

And whilst there is of course value in finding ways to make the imperfect better, my plan for 2020 is to spend more time pointing out the things that make me happy just as they are.

A couple of years ago I started keeping a gratitude list. Every week I make a note of the things – big and small – that have happened that I want to remember and that prove that life is great. I’d seen somebody on Twitter recommend it, so I thought I’d give it a go, and it’s done me the world of good – not just because it’s healthy to be grateful for what you have, but because it’s made me realise what really matters to me.

I kept a list every week in my 2019 diary, and though the exact words differ from week to week, the same themes come up time and time again. Cuddles with my daughter. Seeing her laugh. Time chatting to my husband. Moments to myself to read or watch TV. A catch up with friends. A really excellent cake. A visit from my mum. Managing to stay awake throughout an entire film (this happened approximately twice in 12 months). Proof that I’m keeping my mental health in check. Space to do the work I want to do. Our home.

There are weeks when I’ve noted down special events – new exciting projects, birthdays, trips away – but most of the time, each item on the list is a reminder that it’s the simple things I’m most grateful for. It’s a written collection of all the day to day bits and pieces that could easily go unnoticed, but that are actually my favourite parts of all.

The importance of acknowledging the good became even more apparent to me last year when our daughter got a nasty eye infection. All of a sudden we were in paediatric A&E being told we’d be there overnight so that she could have antibiotics pumped into her little veins through an IV. We caught the infection straightaway and the necessary steps were taken, so all was largely fine, but it was also a bit scary. And it involved spending time in hospital, which is always difficult, particularly when children are involved.

All I wanted the entire time we were there was to go home and back to normal. It made me realise how much I loved our life and that all I need to be happy is to be free to live it, together.

And though that thought process wasn’t new, I wondered if I’d ever actually mentioned how much I liked things, just as they were. I KNEW I’d mentioned how much better life would be if only the bins were emptied more regularly and if we changed a lightbulb more than once every DECADE, but had I said: “Actually, everything we have is everything I want. Nothing else matters”? I’m not sure. So I started.

I’ve tried to take the time to stop and acknowledge when we’re having a nice time, and to tell my husband and my daughter how much I enjoy our time together. I’m an organised person, so I spend most of my time living in the future, planning for the next meal I need to cook, groceries I need to buy, or stain I need to try and fail to remove. And though the world must keep turning, I don’t want to forget to engage with what’s happening now. I don’t want happiness to be something I only recognise retrospectively – I want to notice it in the moment. The future will be here soon enough.

We’ve tried to make it the norm as a couple for us to tell each other when we’re struggling. We let each other know how we’re feeling, we talk about why that might be and what (if anything) can be done, and then we try to move on. It’s not about brushing tough stuff away, quite the opposite. Discussing hard times is as normal as chatting about what’s on TV, so the hurdle isn’t finding the courage to bring it up, but figuring out how we can tackle it together.

And I want it to be just as normal to chat about what’s great. It’s not about living some smug, insufferable life where we pat ourselves on the back all day long, it’s just about making sure we don’t forget that we’re lucky to have each other and that we’ve not forgotten the time when all we wanted was everything that we’ve got now.

My husband reminds me regularly of this Kurt Vonnegut quote, which I love: “And I urge you to please notice when you are happy, and exclaim or murmur or think at some point, ‘If this isn’t nice, I don’t know what is.โ€

So that’s what I’m trying to do, this year and beyond. Notice. Life can be incredibly difficult. Surprising in glorious ways, and shocking in others. So the least we can do is acknowledge when it’s good, and let the people around us know how happy they make us.

And I’ll be keeping up with my gratitude list too. Stopping to note down the funny, touching, meaningful joys I’ve taken from each day is the cheapest form of therapy I’ve ever known, and I strongly recommend it. And it’s a lovely thing to look back on at the end of the year, too.

So that’s my intentions for 2020 officially documented, and I’d love to know what yours are, too. Happy New Year.

How to avoid burnout: Learn to mind the gap between body and mind

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How to avoid burnout: Learn to mind the gap between body and mindI’m going to keep this brief because I’m tired. To do anything else would go against the very purpose of this post: to talk about avoiding burnout.

Getting older has taught me many things. That pretty much everything and everyone is too noisy. That a stool isn’t a seat, it’s a one way ticket to back ache. And that just because your parents are no longer on hand to tell you not to eat 12 Jaffa Cakes at once, it doesn’t mean you should.

Mind the gap

But less obvious is the lesson I’m just starting to grasp about the gaps that can exist between our bodies and minds.

Between what our brains tell us that we can do, and what our bodies can actually withstand.

Between the energy we have in our muscles, and the space our minds need to think.

You know that feeling when you just keep going and going and going and then you suddenly realise that if you don’t go to bed RIGHT NOW you’re either going to collapse or throw up or both?

Or when your brain is just so FULL – with worry, dilemmas, ideas or emotion – that even though technically you could go out with friends or visit family, you know if you do, you’re just going to burst into tears?

That’s what it feels like when the gap trips us up and burnout starts to happen. And it’s chuffing horrible.

Life can trick us into thinking we can handle more than we can. It sounds simple when it’s written down but it’s amazing how frequently it can catch us out. We don’t always realise we’re pushing ourselves until it’s too late. And getting to that point never feels good.

Have the confidence to say no

I’ve written before about how, to feel better, we have to stop trying to do everything at once. And I think part of the issue is confidence. It takes courage to say no to invitations or to admit that you’ve got too much on your plate. Or to say, regardless of how simple an activity might be for somebody else, for you at this point it’s just too much.

Nobody wants to look weak or uncommitted, so all too often we’ll power through regardless. But staying well and happy matters more than saving face. So we need to find a balance between what we’re physically and mentally capable of, and be confident that our limits are justified.

As you change, your limits change

I’m currently trying to adjust to what I can and can’t do whilst pregnant. My brain has a million ideas about how I could spend myย time. And then I remember that I get puffed out going up the stairs, and I have to scale back my plans.

And although it’s obviously all worth it, the process is frustrating nonetheless. My FOMO (sorry mum, that means ‘Fear of missing out’) is through the roof as I see people doing all sorts of things that just aren’t feasible for me at the moment. I’m having to learn how to have a nice time in this condition – how to socialise, write and exercise – without pushing myself too far. It was an inevitable part of the process, but I hadn’t appreciated the conflict I’d experience between what my mind and body want from me.

Your boundaries, your business

No matter what our circumstances are, we have to learn to foresee what our minds and bodies need to keep us well and avoid burnout. Annoyingly they don’t always talk to each other until it’s too late, so we have to use what we’ve learnt about ourselves to plan ahead.

What that looks like will vary from person to person. Right now for me that means going out just one evening during the week, as it’ll take me the next two to recover. And remembering not to make plans after appointments with the midwife as I’m always SHATTERED.

For you it’ll mean something else. Our personal boundaries are exactly that – personal. So nobody gets to set them but us.

What do you do to avoid burnout?ย