MY BAG

tonyburkinshaw:

Sometimes being proud of your daughter just doesn’t say it. Watch this & you’ll see what I mean.
Please share.

Originally posted on ostomy gallery:

This video was really difficult to edit. The brain is very good at blocking out what you don’t want to remember and watching back over some of these clips brought it all flooding back. I’m glad I did it though, it has been some what therapeutic for my recovery and I feel as if I’ve taken a big step forward. To the future and happier videos… Ray x

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Patterns of Anxiety

Algorithms; where would we be without them? Even though I know my mind is constantly firing off its equivalent complexes and striving to effect a cause, I still get caught out every now and then. There I was, having just vacuumed the hallway as you do pre-client, duly noting how there was no loss of suction in the way we’re primed to do by the no-so-young Mr. Dyson.

So far nothing out of the ordinary.

At exactly (and I mean exactly) the same time as I unplugged it to take it upstairs, the downstairs extractor fan stopped. Working on algorithmic autopilot, I found myself switching the socket back on to check that it hadn’t become the power supply for the extractor fan. Of course there is no connection but that doesn’t stop that still small voice of pattern hunting certainty from telling me that the extractor fan was now broken.

The really odd aspect of it all is that all the while, my Cognitive Hypnotherapist mind was telling me what was happening, even down to which algorithm was firing and which past experiences were colliding to form the triggers.

It made not one jot of difference.

Through trivial example, my Unconscious mind insisted on demonstrating how it tries to make sense of my universe. Needless to say, I defused the new pattern and laughed myself quietly free of a potential worry over miswired domestic circuitry.

It is from such misconstruances and misconnections that all manner of anxieties, fears and superstitions come into being. Coincidence isn’t something we’re wired to see. Cause and effect reasoning is much more persuasive. After all it gives us a far better narrative. Gods, demons and superstitions are born of such stories.

Mostly though, the connections are innocuous and leave us feeling just a little silly or out of sorts. Occasionally they are bold and brash and insidiously convince us that life is dangerous and filled with disasters waiting to happen. Herein lie the precursors of depression and anxieties; fears and phobias; destructive habits and negative self-talk.

So if you worry that something awful might happen or you’re frequently nervous, anxious or on edge, it might be interesting to unwind the patterns and triggers of the past and find yourself stepping out into a future happiness you didn’t think existed.

I’d be more than happy to be your hypnotherapeutic guide.

Anxiety, Stress, Depression, hypnotherapy

Effective connections

Feel the fear. Say it anyway.

Some stories have to be shared, no matter how scared it makes you feel.

I’m literally shaking at the thought of posting this, firstly because I’m unsure of the reaction I’ll get and secondly because it’s so important to me to raise awareness for this disease that I have suffered from for the past 4 years.

To read the rest of Rachael’s story: follow this link…

 

Feel the fear and say it anyway.

This is Rachael’s story.

My daughter’s story.

IBD, ostomy, colectomy

One step beyond

I ran 5k three days ago. For the first time in many weeks I found enough time and energy, on the same day, to actually return to the gym. One step at a time, I ran 5k.

I thought I’d be struggling far more than I did, especially as it seems that I’m carrying around one or two more bags of sugar than last time I was there. Never mind.

I’m so tired that a good night’s sleep seems to make it worse, ramming home even more just how long all this has been going on.

Perhaps it’s time to call it a day; package everything up and rename it as the Past.

Perhaps it’s time to begin the future.

Another chapter. A different phase of the story I tell myself.

Life from another perspective.

I hope it involves sleep.

Anxiety

That’s not random
© Tony Burkinshaw 2013

Ten days later

You might remember the mill. We’ve been through it often enough. The rollercoaster duly threw in its ups and downs. The screams echo inside and it seems like it’ll never end. One long nightmare ride that can’t be real. An end that never comes into sight.

It takes an age to progress. The future is so far off that time distorts its blanket and wraps eternity around each day. The team is shorthanded. There aren’t enough skills to go around. National policy trumps clinical discretion.

And then the future arrives.

With enough challenging of the accepted norm, we find the one surgeon who believes his own judgment matters. He stands up & gets counted. We count on him.

A long day and five hours pass.

Much sooner than anyone expected, the pain subsides and the healing takes hold.

Much sooner than anyone expected.

She’s home.

Paper Drum © Vinum

Paper Drum
© Vinum

Paper Drum: The EP

Tears and Tantrums

This one might stay with me. I’m not sure if I want to publish how I feel right now, which is a little weird because that means this 100 words a day habit could end up being a journal and that’s something I’ve never understood the point of.

Until now, I guess.

Prognosis has moved three times in the last 24 hours so in terms of rolling with the punches, I’ve given up. This is more about how hard can you get hit and still get up again.

And again.

In large part the determination comes because I have a choice. It isn’t actually happening to me, it’s happening to Rachael. I’m just playing a supporting role.

Sometimes the cracks appear and it’s time for tears and tantrums.

Sometimes they’re not cracks at all and it’s time to let the emotions out to play until the pent up pressure is released.

Yet again, the final answer is surgery next week.
Or perhaps not.

Ah well. Publish and be damned.

what's down there... © Tony Burkinshaw 2012

what’s down there…
© Tony Burkinshaw 2012

Coughs and sneezes

I’ve been fighting a cold for 3 days and now that it’s at its peak, the central-heating’s packed up. Typical.
According to theory, this is an opportunity.

Really?

Difficulties are easy to find. My immediate challenge? I have to keep away from my hospitalised daughter. Heavily immunosuppressed, a cold ridden parent does not a welcome visitor make. Tough but there you are. Gill’s having to take it all on. Again.

What’s love got to do with it? Every damn thing.

Anyway in the work/cold balance of the last few days, I decided to let the slight-edge habits drift. And to keep doubling them up so that I would be on back track as soon as practicable.
It could have been the start of a long-term slide but in accepting it as my decision, the responsibility stays firmly in my own backyard and I keep control.

As it turns out, a bad cold (trust me, it’s pretty nasty) is an opportunity to practice. It provides essential feedback. An opportunity to find out whether I’m at least a little serious about my intention to be in charge of my own fate.
To accept the risk that I might fail despite my best efforts.
To take the risk that I might succeed even though I don’t know what success looks like yet.

And the upshot of all this?
Well, to paraphrase a good book:

Feel the Sneeze…
And do it anyway.

It isn't easy © Tony Burkinshaw 2013

It isn’t easy
© Tony Burkinshaw 2013

…and the plumber turned up in good order. We have heat.

Plan? What plan?

I love it when new learnings lend themselves to practical issues. (Note the nominalisation, a concept my spell check still struggles with).

Complex therapy took place today.

Not the event itself, rather the immense internal barriers to a meaningful reframe. So with new found skills in hand, a neat segway into gestalt flowed seamlessly into words being spoken and forgiveness being freely offered and accepted.

It was really interesting to watch the therapy unfold as it followed apparently carefully planned off-the-cuff statements linking directly into the brains unconscious algorithms. When the time for resolution, the barriers simply had no option but to collapse and allow the reframe in.

Sunshine and light.
Calm where there used to be broken chaos and hate.

I love it when a plan comes together.

And it wasn’t even my plan?

pain relief mp3

Somewhat Zen
© Tony Burkinshaw 2014

It’s about Time

Time to look forwards.

There’s a new Quest course on its way and in the way of Quest, graduates assist the new students. It’s too good an opportunity to miss. The assistants on my course were fantastic and I’m still in touch with most of them. They were an important part of the experience.

Time to pass on what I’ve learned.

It’s also time to refresh what I thought I’d picked up originally because as these things go, you generally miss things first time around. It’s why I like watching films more than once. Subsequent viewings are when you pick up the intricacies of the complex plot. Or the finesse in the special effects.

So even though I’m now the proud possessor of a certificate that proclaims me to be a master wizard, there’s always more to learn.

Time for new beginnings.

Time for fun.

It's a matter of perspective © Tony Burkinshaw 2012

It’s a matter of perspective
© Tony Burkinshaw 2012

The Choice Option

There’s a glimpse of sunshine. Perhaps two.

Option 1:

Here we go again. Dare to hope or hunker down and wait for the punch that’s always turned up so far.
Every time it’s improved, it’s turned around and slapped us.
Hard.
It’s beyond us. Out of our control.
Life just keeps on happening to us.

Option 2:

Every time it felt like we can’t carry on, there’s been hope. Something has come along and lifted our spirits. A new fact. Uncovering a way of looking at the problem, which gives pause for thought. Get’s the medics thinking again. Trying something new. Adjusting the balance.
Whatever comes along, we’re up to it.
We have to be.
No. It’s more than that.
We choose to be.

External Locus of Control vs. Internal Locus of Control

Simple.
Not easy.

I’ve made my choice.

Enough said.

It's a delicate balance © Tony Burkinshaw 2013

It’s a delicate balance
© Tony Burkinshaw 2013