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Writer's pictureAmelia Paul

A year of growth




This year started with a funeral for my beautiful mum. She died last year on Christmas Day after a long illness with bowel cancer. One of the last things she said to me was, Don't be sad, I've had a lovely two years, i've enjoyed the garden, the birds, the grandchildren, and it's time'.


That mindful approach to life which can be cut short at any time, has really stuck with me this year, as I have navigated some tricky life markers: selling my house where I've lived for 17 years which I bought with my ex husband and where we brought up our two children. I was also made redundant from my staff job at the BBC shortly before mum died.

So those three things, divorce, losing my mum, and being out in the world of job hunting aged 50 after a secure few years, felt like all the pillars holding me up had been demolished.


My dad died 7 years ago, so with parents dying, marriage and now my house and work life changing, it really did feel like a life reset, a phoenix rising moment, but I felt like I had no agency in this at all, no say, a beetle constantly being pushed onto my back, everytime I tried to get up, something else would happen.


Many people feel 'safe' with their home, love and work life all secure and constant. I have always moved around a lot as a child, but have been lucky enough to be static and stable with a home, loving parents and a marriage for the last couple of decades.


So, how to navigate this maelstrom of emotions and change? Well firstly I have a wonderful counsellor who is trained in somatic experiencing (body centred therapy) and Internal family systems, (there are parts of us that feel certain ways at certain times and working with self compassion around those parts)

you can read more about this on this website here https://traumahealing.org/


I also have my asana, yoga practice which I weave in to my everyday as much as possible and ten minutes breathing, meditation and movement for me is as beneficial as getting to a class which often doesn't happen as i procrastinate!


Which leads me on to another, big life marker which happened this year. For as long as. I can remember I have always struggled with putting off things, missing deadlines, being late, focus and concentration, and have had periods of impulsivity and sometimes recklessness.


This has led me to some bad life choices, and crippling periods of shame, which if you know Brené Browns wonderful explanation between the difference of guilt and shame, https://www.ted.com/talks/brene_brown_listening_to_shame?subtitle=en

It can freeze you in your tracks and you become the victim, rather than being able to help the people around you that you may have hurt.


This year I finally got a diagnosis of ADD (attention deficit disorder) with probable ADHD as a child (attention deficit hyperactivity disorder). Having this diagnosis, rather than leading to anything clinical in terms of medication, has simply meant I have developed HUGE self compassion for myself, as a child and and a teen.


Reading back through my school reports with fresh ADD eyes, and seeing that little girl who thought she was useless because she was 'scatty' 'a butterfly' 'easily distracted' 'inherently lazy in my class' 'would do better if she was less concerned about her social life and being a chatterbox', I have given that version of me, so, so many hugs in the last few months.


I have been hesitant to share this diagnosis because of the huge backlash experienced since the very unhelpful Panorama programme was aired - https://www.adhdfoundation.org.uk/2023/05/15/response-to-bbc-panorama-private-adhd-clinics-exposed/


and because, yes I am also a menopausal woman who, when I first went to the doctors, put my brain fog, mood swings and anxiety down to menopause rather than my neurodiversity.


I have been under the care of the Louise Newson clinic for HRT, and I cannot recommend them enough, in fact there has been a link between HRT medication increasing oestrogen helping people with ADHD symptoms, which is fantastic news. https://psychiatry-uk.com/women-and-adhd-how-menopause-can-affect-women-with-adhd/ I am also hugely aware of several friends who struggle in very different ways to me. ADHD medication works for them. Currently I don't take any myself.


It also explains my portfolio career approach to life. I have always been really good at multi tasking and now this year have added powerboat driver and lifeguard to my skill set. I work as a swim lead down at the Bristol harbour swims on weekends, as well as production coordinating part time casual back at the BBC (seems I can do that even though I was made redundant, silver linings yet again!). I also produce audiobooks, working on titles this summer such as : Zoe Blaskey's Motherkind and Colleen Nolan's book about grief 'A Hand to Hold'.


But my heart and head is in my yoga teaching and practice, and it's this that hold these very different parts of me together and reminds me which hat I am supposed to be wearing too!


All in all, this year has reminded me of the parable of the man with the horse.

As one bad thing happens and you start to awfulize, perhaps keep this to hand.

For me a small example of this, is when I was made redundant, it felt like the end of the world as my mum was dying too, but it meant I could take some 'paid' time off earlier this year to start to grieve her loss and simply be numb for a bit, before picking myself up and starting over again.


The Farmer & the Horse

There was a farmer in a small village with a single horse who helped him earn a living for his family. The other villagers constantly told the farmer how lucky he was to have such a great horse.

”Maybe,” he would reply.

One day, the horse ran away. The villagers came to the farmer to express their sympathies.

”Your horse ran away. How unfortunate!“ the villagers exclaimed.

”Maybe,” the farmer replied.

A few days later, the horse returned home, with ten strong wild horses in tow.

”What good fortune. What incredible luck,” the villagers crowed.

”Maybe,” the farmer again replied.

The following week, the farmer’s son was riding one of the wild horses in the fields, when it kicked him off and broke his leg.

The villagers arrived to express their dismay.

”What dismal luck,” they said.

”Maybe,” the farmer replied.

The next month, a military officer marched into the village, recruiting able-bodied young men for the war. The farmer’s son, with his broken leg, was left behind.

The villagers were joyful, “Your son has been spared. What beautiful luck!”

The farmer simply smiled.

”Maybe.”


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