Tag: Wim Hof

Morning Meditations

This last weekend, my husband was away at a trade show, so my normal routine of yoga and meditation in the quiet of my bedroom was disrupted. I had to get up early and let Hermione have her run around the garden. It was a beautiful day, so I decided to try it alfresco. Despite being a chilly 10 degrees Celsius, the experience was enhanced by the location. Weather permitting, I’ve decided to continue this way as far into winter as I dare!

It’s taken me a very long time to reach the point where I would not consider starting the day without these physical and mental exercises, but their benefits have been immeasurable. The good news is that one can start small and work up. I vividly remember the agonies of trying to concentrate through a five minute guided meditation every evening. Now my half hour, unguided one, goes in a flash. The key, it seems, is in regular practice (even if that is only ten minutes a day).

The sunniest spot in the garden early morning
Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

Finding what is right for you

I have lost count of the number of people I have spoken to who find meditation either impossible or something that they cannot seem to find time for. Perhaps part of the reason for this is that it is, as a product, hugely mis-sold. Meditation does not eliminate stress from your life (but it does help you deal with it); nor does it turn you into a calm, perfect human (though it might help smooth your edges) and most importantly, it does not require you to jettison all thoughts to reach a state of Zenlike bliss. Meditation, like prayer, is all about directing thought rather than obliterating it.

When random thoughts arise, we greet them and let them go, bringing our attention back to our point of focus. This may be our breath, a candle or a prayer. It requires discipline and endless repetition. The Dalai Lama continues to meditate for hours every day. Even he would not suggest that he had no need of further practice. So if you are looking for a quick fix, this isn’t for you. However, if you are looking for a method that has been proven to improve your mental and physical well-being, here are some approaches you might try.

Thoughts, like clouds, drift across our consciousness
Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

Ways in

If you look on-line, you will find countless and many very good sources on meditation. I have tried a number of them and have a rather eclectic mix that I call my own. The one that I think of as being the best way to begin though is the listening meditation, as it helps reinforce the idea of focus and requires no more from you than simply to sit quietly.

This is one that I love to do in the garden. Sit on the ground cross legged, or on a chair with your feet on the ground and back straight. (If you lie in a deck chair, you are liable to fall asleep!) Start to listen to all the sounds around you. As your meditation deepens, you will hear ever quieter sounds that you have probably never noticed before. You don’t have to close your eyes, but do if that makes it easier. Set a timer for at least ten minutes. Take a moment to return to the world and say a thank you for what you have heard.

Alternatively, you can keep the same posture and contemplate a specific aspect or even object – like a flower. As your focus deepens, you will uncover richer layers of observance. Again, do this for as long as you can and try to observe mindfully throughout the day.

Breathing meditations are probably the most common form. I use the Wim Hof method, because the breathing structure and breath-holds don’t give you much option to let your mind wander.

You may want to do this one lying down, as it can leave you a little light headed.

If you want to meditate throughout the day, taking a few moments to concentrate on the breath – filling your lungs fully and then feeling the air exit passing gently over your mouth – is a great way to ground yourself.

Devising your own regime

Perhaps I was a magpie in a past life, but I have a terrible habit of acquiring things and forgetting to let them go. My meditation practice is no exception. As a result, all the elements that I have found useful over the past ten years have now found a home in my current routine. I don’t recommend that you necessarily do the same, but I do think that it is helpful to take a flexible approach. One form of meditation may fit perfectly, another may not – or not at the moment. No-one is watching and certainly no-one is judging your performance. Do what works for you.

So what is my daily practice? It begins with a little yoga. The stretching and focus on my body seems to help me get into the right zone for meditation. What follows is a mix of Wim breathing, imaging and loving kindness prayer. The loving kindness meditation is a classic one and helps us find compassion in our attitudes to even those who are our enemies or simply irritate us to death.

The version I use, based on a haunting musical interpretation, goes like this:

May I be filled with loving kindness, may I be well

May I be filled with loving kindness, may I be well.

May I be peaceful and at ease, may I be whole.

And here’s the musical version if, like me, you enjoy singing.

This is performed by my very talented friend Elizabeth Harris with the equally talented Anna Hamilton

I begin my meditation lying down and with the breathing Wim advocates, then during the breath-hold, I do the loving kindness prayer. With each cycle of breathing, I add another loving kindness object. Starting with myself, I move outwards from family to friends to those I do not care for too much. Some like to think of an area they live in and move to the world. I do that sometimes too.

Towards the end, I focus on healing kindness and imagine my body repairing itself. I have exquisite gold tipped butterflies that inhabit my brain and spinal chord and keep it free from lesions. (Don’t laugh, my latest MRI shows it is working!)

During the final stage, I simply reorient myself in the world. (You can feel a bit spacey at this point). I observe all the beauty around me and give thanks for the privilege of inhabiting such a magnificent creation. And now I am ready for the day.

Nothing is perfect

If this is all sounding a little too idyllic, I should perhaps mention that I have a little helper when it comes to my morning rituals! Hermione would never wish to be left out of anything, so yoga is performed with care so as not to squash the dog under my belly and meditation is conducted between throws of her Kong.

Does this bother me? Not particularly. Life is never going to accommodate you perfectly and accepting interruptions, noise and distractions and working through them is very much part of the discipline of these practices. If we are waiting for the ideal situation, we would never start at all. So, let us begin.

Only trying to help! Hermione with her favourite Kong toy
Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

What I Did Last Summer

This post was recommended by a friend who thought a retrospective was in order. It also seemed a good twist on the ‘What I did on my summer holidays’ theme that children up and down the land are asked to write in the first week of school.

Summer 2020 has proven to be a strange one for all of us. For me, it has been especially bizarre – living simultaneously in isolation from society and yet with more of my husband’s company than I have enjoyed in thirty odd years of marriage. Before you ask, the latter helped make up for the former and we both agree that these have been surprisingly happy times.

What to do?

Connection Image: Quino Al on Unsplash

With all normal activities barred to us, we were left with the conundrum of what to do with the vast expanse of time now available. My niece wrote the first draft of a novel; my husband started a YouTube business lecture series and the rest of us discovered or rediscovered slow pleasures: making bread, reading novels, enjoying a leisurely telephone conversation. (When we received a £350 phone bill, we realised that I’d been indulging in that luxury a little too much! We now have a much better BT plan.)

A Good Book

In the days BH (Before Hermione), I devoured books. I have no idea how many I read, but here are the five that stood out: The Well-Gardened Mind by Sue Stuart-Smith, Small Great Things by Jodi Picoult, The Mobster’s Lament by Ray Celestin, Weather by Jenny Offill and Black Swan Green by David Mitchell. I like an eclectic mix! And, of course, I am always looking for more. Suggestions in the comments section please!

This summer, I also completed a life-long desire to read the complete works of Shakespeare. I started some time ago, stopped, started again and this time made it to the end. Aspiring authors take heart! Even Shakespeare had to learn his craft; even Shakespeare had off days.

The history plays, when read in order, were a joy and intelligible. At last, all those knotty family trees made sense. There were some duds: ‘Titus Andronicus’,’Timon of Athens’ (zzzz) but some gems too. I’ve read, often several times, all the greats, but it was wonderful to discover some that are seldom taught like ‘Pericles’ and the lesser known sonnets. Perhaps one day, I shall read them again – but selectively!

Another thing ticked off the bucket list! Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

Swedish lessons

Another challenge I have set myself is to read Pippy Longstocking in the original. Like my reading of Shakespeare, learning Swedish has been a stop/ start affair – but now I had no excuse. I increased the time I was spending on my Swedish lessons and committed to a daily session of twenty to thirty minutes. This more committed approach is starting to show real progress. I am delighted to inform you that I can now say: The bear sleeps from November to April (Bjornen sover fran november till april); I only buy yellow cars (Jag koper bara gula bilar) and my favourite: There is a princess in a long, green dress behind the door (Det finns en prinsessa med en lang, gron klanning bakom dorren.) I’m not quite sure when I will be able to show off these skills, but then, I’m not sure when I will ever get to Sweden.

Virtual outings

This summer has had a serious impact on the arts, so many wonderful theatres and opera houses have offered up their productions for free on YouTube.

One thing that my husband and I have always wished to enjoy was Glyndebourne Opera. Though this is only down the road from us, the tickets are prohibitively expensive and more than a little difficult to procure. So when they offered a season on YouTube, we decided to take advantage.

They were showing a delightful production of The Marriage of Figaro, so we prepared our picnic, put on our best outfits and enjoyed the show.

All dressed up with nowhere to go! Image: Jeff Costello-McFeat

Food glorious food!

Rather to the detriment of my waistline, this summer has been all about food : growing it, harvesting it, cooking it and preserving it. At the beginning, when my husband was furloughed with nothing to do, we introduced morning coffee – with cake and afternoon tea – with cake. It certainly cheered us up, but I’m rather relieved that he is at least partially back to work.

Being the competitive types we are, we also thought we’d add a little spice to our culinary adventures and started a competition for the best entree of the day. A dear friend was hauled in to guess who made it, but we didn’t ask her to say who won. My husband, who until recently was adept at making frozen pizza and big breakfast, is now very good at a number of exotic dishes. He is currently making flat bread in the kitchen. Having proven his capabilities, there is no way he will be allowed to slide back once the crisis ends, though I may allow him the weekdays off!

From frozen pizza to chocolate cake – lock-down’s surprising gift. Image: Jeff Costello-McFeat

A new challenge

With MS, it is always difficult to find ways to increase fitness and stamina. The disease works against you in the most frustrating ways. So I was delighted to find a fitness/life-style programme that could help me and perhaps even lesson my symptoms. It is called the Wim Hof method and involves cold treatments, breathing exercises and yoga. During the pandemic, they were offering reduced price courses on-line and with any number of weeks stretching ahead of us, we decided to give it a go. For ten weeks, we dutifully followed the programme. I confess that around the six week mark, I felt like giving up. I was hard. I’ll write about it fully next time, but let’s just say it was worth all the effort. The downside is that, course over, we need to carry on with it anyway.

Puppy love

Our leisurely, civilised life came to an abrupt halt with the arrival of Hermione. Picking up the umpteenth poo and waiting in the garden while she has five more minutes play, I sometimes wonder if it was an act of insanity getting a dog. (My husband, no doubt, has these thoughts at 3am when he gets up to let her out.) I’ve been through this all before with my old dog (and I got up that time) but just like childbirth, one forgets! And just like having children, the sea of tiredness, stress and frustration (puppies are like insane toddlers) disappears when they lie down quietly or give an adoring look.

We are gradually regaining a semblance of normal life, creating routines and filling quiet moments with human tasks. We are learning to accommodate each other’s needs and relax a little our desire to be in control of our days (and nights!) She requires immense amounts of time, attention and love, but of all the things we did last summer – this was the best.

Is it nap time yet? Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

Sea Views

Over the last few weeks, I have been participating in a Wim Hof training course. It provides a non-invasive way to control and perhaps even lessen the symptoms of MS. A key component of the method is exposure to the cold. This can be achieved by taking chilly showers, but I have found a much more enjoyable route to the same end: sea swimming.

So, every couple of days, we rise early and head to the beach. The sun hangs low on the horizon and spreads out an apron of sunlight upon the sea. The silhouettes of intrepid paddle boarders and swimmers dot the waters and, onshore, the newly washed pebbles glisten.

Everywhere I look, there is a magnificent vista. And the only question I ask myself is why I haven’t been doing this before.

Morning sunlight on the sea Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

The psychological blocks

When I tell people about my sea swims, they do one of two things: one – look slightly horrified or two – say that they would also love to go. Sadly, they seldom do. And I understand that. For years, my boys all went sailing and paddle boarding in the most inclement weather (my husband once went surfing when there was snow on the beach) and I would stay at home drinking tea and thinking wistfully that it must be wonderful to be out in the ocean.

Forcing ourselves out of our comfort zone is just plain hard. We tell ourselves that we are busy; the weather is not quite warm enough and that changing on a cold beach is a pain (it is). All these are true, but few things of value are gained without inconvenience.

The rewards

For me, the rewards well outweigh a few goosebumps. The days when we swim, I feel the same excitement I had as a child on holiday. Sea swimming is, quite simply, exhilarating. Unlike the pool, there is no danger of being crashed into by inconsiderate swimmers doing diagonal backstroke, or being dive bombed my energetic teens. There is no sting of chlorine or the babble of voices booming around the echo chamber that is the municipal baths. There is only the gentle plash of the waves and the call of the gulls overhead.

Come on in! The water is lovely. Image: Jeff Costello-McFeat

For anyone with a disability, swimming is often the only aerobic exercise one can do. However, getting in and out a pool is not easy and asking for the hoist is embarrassing. Then one has to negotiate the slippery floors of changing rooms. Getting in and out the sea is much easier and I have my husband to help get me there and to change afterwards.

Another benefit is that the sea is cold. MS really is not compatible with heat, and my local pool is positively tropical. In the cool of the ocean, I am able to exercise far longer and more easily. The result? I complete my swim energised and fitter – a double win.

Aesthetics

I am a great believer in the healing powers of natural beauty, and I can think of almost nowhere that could compete with the views the sea commands. Looking out to sea, there is the enchanting image of sunlight dancing on water and above skies stretching to eternity. Clouds form and reform in an endless choreography of vapour. On bright, early mornings even the moon is visible – a chalky disc set in the blue.

The shoreline is delightful too. When far enough out, the deep green Downs with their ghostly white faces undulate far above the water. They serve as reminders of the land the sea has given up, but will reclaim again.

And scanning the promenade to the headland of Hastings, there are the pretty gardens, the elegant hotels, the bandstand and the pier.

Eastbourne – early morning Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

A word of warning

The sea is truly sublime – in Burke’s Romantic sense. It evokes feelings of awe, but also of terror. As with all wild places, there is an element of risk that makes it more appealing. The sea may beguile us with its beauty, but we should never underestimate its power. Calm seas may conceal strong currents; waves can catch us unaware; we may not be as strong a swimmer as we think.

Since I can never be certain that my MS won’t suddenly decide to make my legs stop working, I always swim with my husband close by. He is happy to circle me like an amiable shark and I am definitely more confident with him by my side.

Having extolled the virtues of the cold, I should be honest about its downside. Sea swimming is best enjoyed at a leisurely pace. It’s important to let your body acclimatise to the cold without rushing in (especially on hot days). A rash vest provides a little more warmth and a wet suit more still.

It is important to keep swims to a moderate length. Fifteen to twenty minutes is perfect for us. Any longer and we start to really feel cold and it is difficult to warm back up on a beach in the early morning. If you start to feel warm when swimming, it is a danger signal and you must get out immediately. It means that hypothermia has set in. Nature gives no quarter. It is magnificent, yes, but also deadly. It is as well to remember that.

A healthy habit

My morning swims have become a habit now. Though I know there are a few hardy souls who swim all year round, I suspect that come winter I shall return to my exercise bike.

While I can still do it though, I intend to continue as long as possible. The benefits that have accrued are impressive. Swimming in the sea requires all your concentration and thus acts as a sort of meditation. It is exercise, but never monotonous or dull. Each swim will be as different as the ever shifting tides.

A good swim will pretty much ensure a good night’s sleep – a boon for all of us. Studies have shown that cold water swimming can improve mental states and create greater resilience to infection. As a method for improving health, it is difficult to beat.

So I encourage you, while this delightful summer continues, to dig out your swimwear and take the plunge.

Expanding the Possible

I don’t believe in fixed boundaries when it comes to living – only flexible ones. When we are sad or depressed, we bring in those walls as a form of self-protection, though ironically, they simply seal our fate. We need to break down the barriers; free ourselves from our ‘mind-forged manacles’ and embrace the possible so that we can live to our full potential. Does this involve risk? Absolutely. Does it involve discomfort, denial, discipline? Definitely. Is it worth it? Do you need to ask?

At 7.30 am this morning, my husband and I headed off to the beach. It was a pretty day and the sea was calling. We were going for a swim. At such an early hour, there was no concern over social distancing, only that the sea would be on the chilly side. It was. But after a few weeks of cold training, it was perfectly fine. After a few minutes, it was positively pleasant.

The best way to start the day! Image: Jenny Bess on Unsplash

Since the sea is strong, and I am not, my husband circled close by in case I got into difficulties. (When I talk of risk, I mean the small and manageable rather than the fool-hardy kind.) I managed fifteen minutes, which is hardly an Olympic standard, but it is a progression for me.

And this raises a crucially important point: expanding the possible takes time. Our culture is so obsessed with quick results that we often give up before we really begin. If one thing doesn’t work, we try another, forgetting that everything from learning the piano to running a marathon involves dedicated and incremental steps.

Finding balance

Slowing down often, as in the fable of the tortoise and the hare, means reaching our goal faster (see https://whenlifegivesyoulemons.blog/life-in-the-slow-lane/). Taking time means that we will generally be more successful in achieving our wish – no matter how unlikely or impossible it seemed at the outset. I was completely inspired this week by the Swedish photographer and artist Janna Jinton. Her stone balancing is truly breathtaking. I’ll let you see for yourself in the video below.

My husband and I tried this with a few pebbles this morning. We managed three standing upright and were very pleased with ourselves! Even on such a small scale, it was empowering. And whenever we try and succeed in pushing ourselves and our skills a little further, we feed our very souls.

Witnessing the impossible

In order to attempt the seemingly impossible, most of us will need a little prompting from someone who has already blazed the trail. For me, this has been Wim Hof , an extreme athlete and multiple record holder. My husband mentioned his exploits some time ago and I was duly amazed. After a video chat with my Overcoming Multiple Sclerosis friends, his name came up again, and I did some further research. Here are some of the ‘impossible’ things that he has done:

  • Running a half marathon above the Arctic Circle, barefoot only wearing shorts
  • Swimming underneath ice for 66 meters
  • Hanging on one finger at an altitude of 2,000 meters
  • Climbing the highest mountains in the world while wearing only shorts
  • Running a full marathon in the Namib Desert without drinking
  • Standing in a container while covered in ice cubes for extended periods of time
  • Shown scientifically, that the autonomous nervous system related to the innate immune response, can be wilfully influenced, something that was previously unknown to science https://www.wimhofmethod.com/iceman-wim-hof

All of these exploits have been checked and confirmed by the Guinness Book of Records, so I think we can trust them. That said, my mind still reels. I still wanted some visual proof and here it is:

Seeing is believing

These incredible feats were not achieved overnight, but after decades of serious training. When pushing our boundaries – wherever they lie – we need to take tiny steps allowing for rest and recovery in between. If we do not, we risk injury and capitulation.

We also need to enjoy the experience. I love the sea and I love swimming. Putting up with a little cold, therefore, is a small price to pay to experience both.

I also love my daily yoga ritual and look forward to it as one of the first things I do each day. It wasn’t always like this. In the past, I would prevaricate and skip days and forget – even though the yoga itself was always physically healing and relaxing. It took the discipline of doing it daily to break that behaviour.

Don’t stop

Committing to a goal is the first step in achieving it. We are capable of so much more than we imagine. However, there is a significant caveat here. We do not all begin from the same point in terms of age or ability. All we can do is expand our own boundaries millimetre by millimetre in whichever field seems most important to us. I will never run a marathon, nor likely ever run, but I can work on my mobility and general health to optimise it. That is my marathon training.

Importantly, I can never, ever stop. For life to be the amazing, fulfilling adventure that I believe it is meant to be, we must never cease testing and stretching ourselves to expand the possible. We are capable of so much more than we even dream.