How to have a better day.

I’ll be honest, I’m not feeling at my best today. As a wellbeing coach, it’s often hard to admit this. Aren’t I supposed to have all the answers and be able to both think and eat my way to perfect health??

I wish. Instead, I’m sat at home feeling ‘under the weather’ – what a strange expression that is. Anyway, I’m feeling a bit crap and taking my own advice of rest, fluids and good food. I’ve also just had a delivery of some new flooring (living the dream😂), which has prompted me to write this instead of doing my accounts, to enhance my emotional and mental state (I know, just procrastinating really!)

So back to the flooring, when I answered the door to the delivery man, he took one look at me, sighed, shook his head and asked if there was someone to help him unload it (clearly I didn’t fit the bill.)

When I said no, just me, he huffed and puffed and mumbled something about should’ve been told there wasn’t someone with a lifting mechanism or something I couldn’t quite hear. I told him I just ordered the stuff and it wasn’t my problem, to which he reluctantly agreed.

Anyway, after some persuasion he began moving the flooring into the garage whilst telling me what a bad day he was having, how his previous customer had been out and how he’d wasted so much time already. There were several pauses in his comments, with a glance in my direction, hoping, I think, for some sympathy. He did’t get any.

In a last-ditch attempt he began to pour out his story of how he had a leak in his house LAST CHRISTMAS and how he was still battling with insurers! How he’d had to move out for a while, start from scratch…and so on. While he was telling me, he kept pausing, looking me in the eye, waiting for me to offer some crumbs of comfort, understanding and attention for his sorry tale.

I don’t think he liked my reply much. I said how lucky he was to at least be safe, warm and dry and back in his home now. He did a double take, gave me a look of confusion like I was speaking some strange and ancient code and then said, grudgingly ‘I suppose so.’ There’s not a lot you can do when someone speaks a language you don’t understand or know what to do with, so it drew our encounter to a close, which I was glad about as I was bloody freezing, aware of managing my state and taking care of myself like a good coach should.

You see this man was not only having a bad day, but a bad life. His story was one of ‘poor me’ and he’d learned unconsciously to feel more important/loved/wanted or something similar by telling his story of everything that was wrong in his life. And in focusing all his thoughts and energy on that, he was living in a state of unhappiness, a victim of circumstances and he didn’t know that he was doing it or that he could do anything about it because it was unconscious, such a ‘normal’ way for life for him, that he hadn’t considered an alternative.

He didn’t know that he could choose to feel better/more important/loved/wanted by smiling, engaging positively with his customers, employers, insurers or whoever and that he could learn to value himself and change the limiting beliefs he holds unconsciously by noticing his thoughts and language.

We can all become a self-detective. We can discover what’s going on in our unconscious mind by listening, noticing, watching what we say and what we think. That will give us clues as to what’s going on up there. And if it leaves you feeling uncomfortable, change it. Then, we can stop believing the bad stuff and start to believe in something better. Just because we believe something, it doesn’t mean it’s true. It’s usually learned beliefs from childhood. Still doesn’t mean it’s true.

Now I’m not saying it’s always easy. Today, I’m not at my best so I’m having to dig deep so that I don’t feel too sorry for myself and end up thoroughly miserable as well as having some sort of cold virus.

And I’m not making light or being flippant about mental health issues either. For some, the story they tell themselves is so deep and damaging that professional help is needed to be able to move forward. The point I’m trying to make is that with or without help, we all have the ability to make changes and to put ourselves at cause, not effect, in our lives. To take ownership of what we think, how we respond and what we do with the kind of things that happen to all of us at times, like having a water leak or getting a cold, and even death, divorce and destruction. To be able to move on after a period of sadness, grief, upset, anger or just a mild annoyance when something bad happens is what determines whether you have mostly good days or bad days. The choice is yours.

Stress, Me and the Honey Bee

In his book ‘Becoming Supernatural’, Joe Dispenza likens living in a state of chronic stress to driving with one foot on the break, the other on the accelerator. Well, I’ve never actually tried it but when I read this I knew how it felt. It perfectly described how life used to be for me. Living in a state of stress had become ‘normal’. So much so, I had no idea there was anything wrong. Until, of course, to continue the metaphor, the damn wheels came off.

Now it’s a different story. I am much more aware, and know how to return my mind and body to a state of calm and when I do, I also get to experience joy, gratitude, love and just feeling pretty good about life. These emotions cannot be truly felt when we’re chronically stressed as the mix of chemicals that get released into the bloodstream when we’re stressed are very different to those that are triggered by higher emotions. And they can’t all be there at the same time.

That’s not to say it’s always easy. My old stress-inducing habits can creep up on me because sometimes, I still don’t think I’m good enough. Being aware though, means I can change my state at will. One day last week, I got some help from an unexpected source.

Sitting in my conservatory, I was doing some admin work on my website and social media (not my favourite job). I could feel my stress levels rising and knew my thoughts of lack of self-belief were intruding and threatening to overwhelm me. I stopped what I was doing, took a deep breath and glanced down at the floor. There, crawling in front of my foot was a honey bee and he looked in a bad way. He’d obviously been trapped in there all night and was literally, on his last legs.

Now wild honey bees are a rare and beautiful thing so I knew I had to get him outside pretty quickly. I scooped him onto a piece of paper and tossed him gently out of the window. No sooner had I let him go, I realised he’d landed in a thick, sticky spider’s web. I was horrified! I couldn’t just sit and watch the poor thing struggle to his demise.

So it began, operation bee rescue. I went outside, plucked him from the web and brought him back into the house. His body was wrapped tightly in the viscous strands and he was barely moving. I went to get my tweezers and nail file and set to work. Piece by piece I began by holding him down with the nail file and untangling him with the tweezers, freeing one leg and each wing at a time.

He was lying on his side, very still, so when I’d done all I could to remove the web, I mixed together a honey and water solution, put a small drop on a saucer and laid the bee gently next to it, propping it up on it’s crumpled legs. To my relief, he started drinking down the sugary nourishment.

They say bees get drunk on nectar, and I reckon that’s what happened. When he’d had his fill, he began thrashing around, unable to walk. He kept falling over and finally fell into the honey and water. This seemed to be going from bad to worse.

For a moment I thought he’d OD’ed! Maybe he’d just passed out, he was certainly very still. As a last ditch attempt to save him, I scooped him back onto a piece of paper, placed him in the sunlight to warm up and dry off (or maybe sleep it off!). Anyway, I watched him closely, looking for signs of life. I noticed he was breathing, and within a few minutes he began to stretch his wings, laying them out to catch the sun’s rays. Gradually, he started to move his wobbly legs and finally grooming his head, body, legs and wings to remove every last trace of web, honey and anything else that shouldn’t have been there.

He took his time until, gathering strength and energy and with all the grace and magnificence of his species, he rose triumphantly into the air. I managed to coax him outside and I can’t tell you how bloody great I felt as I watched him fly off into the garden to live his life.

Now, what’s that got to do with stress?

After nearly killing him, I had two choices, leave him, feel bad and go back to telling myself how useless I am at social media or interrupt my thinking, change my focus and do my best to help, feel compassion and work calmly and mindfully at trying to save him.

I had no idea if I’d succeed or not, only that I could try. The outcome wasn’t really in my control, but the process was. And the process was about being in the moment and it changed my state. By the time that bee had flown away, I was feeling a whole range of positive emotions. And when you feel calmness, compassion, empathy, joy, gratitude and downright chuffed, there’s no room for stress.

I hope the little fella is still out there somewhere, getting drunk on nectar, doing other bee things and keeping out of conservatories!

Thanks to my good friend Charlotte Kessler for allowing me to use her beautiful Honey Bee artwork in this blog.

https://www.charlottejanekessler.co.uk/