Overwhelm and lessons from the beach

I try and practice yoga and permaculture. Both I feel overlap completely. Permaculture has 3 main areas of focus and a list of ethics. Yoga has ancient philosophy and a list of ethics – called the yamas and niyamas (more on them another time ;).
 
Earthcare, fairshare and peoplecare are the 3 main principles of permaculture – practising people care is one of the reasons I became a yoga teacher. The way of learning in permaculture is to observe nature – she will teach / show us everything. ​

I believe nature is also a reflection of the world and how many others often feel. They say – “as so above, below; as so within, without”.
 
I forget how my body is a reflection of the physical world. It is a mirror to my inner world. When I am in too busy, rushing around pushing myself to my limits mode, I have often tripped and gone flat on my face – like my body knows it needs to be grounded so it does it – with a bang sometimes.
 
Over the years I have realised this and really tried to learn to listen – “listen to your body when it whispers and you won’t have to listen to it scream” is a quote I really like.

What about the whispers of mother earth – I truly believe she is a sentient being – I stopped watching the news years ago because I can’t bear the physical pain and distress I personally feel when I watch what is happening to her. 

Overwhelm catches me unaware – the minute my blood sugar levels drop or I disappear into my head or I get tired – bang – life just got hard, feelings of' I can’t cope' and 'it’s all too difficult' sweep in. Sometimes I am more aware and I can sit with these feelings – give them space – mostly – I just react and go into anger and survival mode.
 
I’ve spent some time over the last few years working on reaching my ‘zen mountain’ – a lovely calm peaceful state where I am resourceful, staying in the centre of my own picture, grounded and observing rather than reacting – I have built a lovely picture of this in my head. Reality says otherwise – I have several external overwhelm factors too – clutter, too much to do (and generally most of it is of my own making) as well as general tiredness and other excuses.

As a yoga teacher I have squillions of techniques in my toolbox to help alleviate stress and worry – sadly I don’t have a magic wand that changes my personality from a total stress head who seems to be addicted to that habit – and so it becomes my life journey – to learn how to stay on this path to the zen mountain, to learn to be gentle with myself when I wander off – as I do – I am very easily distracted. ​

Which is what this beach is about. It brings up so much for me…

It brings up  judgement and leads to feelings of total despair and why do I bother?
​
Although I haven’t been to a Craignish beach clean, I have participated and organised many litter picks in my life – as a voluntary field officer with Scottish Conservation Projects and then as Canal Development Officer in Maryhill, Glasgow in the 1990s - I have helped clean up canals, rivers, beaches and woodlands. It feels like all for nothing though when I see the state of this beach here, just round the corner from where I live at the moment.
 
I generally pick up litter when I’m out and I do spend a lot of time at the beach during the year and have a wee pact with myself to always pick up at least one piece of litter everytime as a thank you to the beach.
 
This year - with social distancing in place - our community beach clean is a bit different – no organised day, just a general, if you are out on your daily walk, please take a bin bag and collect what you can.

​With a bit more time on our hands at the moment we took ourselves for a walk the other day round part of the gorgeous place we live – here’s the view where I practiced some yoga. I was shocked at the litter though and vowed to return the next day with bags.

So we did – 2 hours later and I was finding it hard to focus on what we had achieved rather than what was still left to do.

And then those questions:

• are we just hiding the problem, moving it from one place to another
• stuffing it in landfill isn’t a great solution
• should we burn it and stuff it in the atmosphere instead or
• do we just leave it – to fill the animals, fish and ourselves
• is there a right answer?

​Who knows – so often we do one thing believing it to be really environmentally safe and then years later we discover it has become just another part of the problem. ​

Where do I start?

• Do I just pick up the tiny pieces – try and catch them before they become micro plastics?
• Do I pick up the big stuff and make a visual difference?

• Do I clean just one small area? Is there any point – the next high tide and the wind will just bring more?​

It feels endless – easier just to give up before I even start. A bit like life sometimes, eh?

And so, back to the path, the journey that is life.

​We truly live in uncertain times just now and it would be so easy to focus on how hard it is – I’m taking time every morning to focus on what I am grateful for – simple things – a reminder of just how amazing this world and those on it are. I’m keeping a gratitude journal.

It does feel like grief sweeps across the world in waves just now – those feelings of helplessness are not just mine –they are collective – we are in the middle of a global pandemic – a realisation of how linked we all are and how we all matter. The grief sweeps through and the virus goes for our lungs – our lungs which process oxygen – the oxygen and life force we need to survive. ​

Our lungs -  said to be the area of our bodies that holds on to old emotions of grief (good article about this here).

We can feel helpless in this wave of physical and emotional grief – an emotion we have been taught to stuff down for years – ‘don’t cry’, ‘don’t show your fears’, ‘stay strong’ – all familiar phrases I’m sure. And so we hold on to our grief, our pain – today please give yourselves permission to put that down, you have permission to release that which no longer serves – we’re probably all carrying generations worth of grief and pain – handed down from our ancestors – I truly believe that the time has come – it is our job – this generation - to thank our ancestors for their survival, for doing what they needed to at the time, and release all that pain and grief – mother earth will hold us, she will compost those emotions and return them as fresh, cleansed energy. ​

My granny had TB at 15 – she lived but that illness stayed with her for the rest of her life and I’ve been told that some ancient forms of medicine believe that TB leaves traces down the generations. My whole family has been plagued with a persistent cough – on both my mother and fathers side. What grief is it that we are carrying through the generations? How can I release this – my mind wants the story – to know the why – and yet my heart knows, the story is irrelevant – do the work – release the fear, the stress the grief – how?? I ask. Take every opportunity – be thankful for what I have, accept emotions, really pause and feel, witness them, cry if I want – remind myself that it is ok to cry, to release old grief through these current opportunities of death and destruction. Allow the exhaustion and helplessness to pass, focus on selfcare, earthcare, people care and fairshare. 
 
And that is the journey…lessons from the beach - more yoga, more being, less doing; learning new patterns, releasing the old – ready for the new world that is coming.

Does it make a difference picking up the plastic?
Who know's - does it solve a global issue? - No; will it make a difference to this beach - Yes? The old adage of 'think global; act local' helps me believe I can make a difference.

I feel better for doing it - I need exercise and I like achieving things - this ticks both those boxes.

​And like the story of the little boy on the beach putting back starfish - as he says to the passer by - it made a difference to this one.

What little things make a difference in your life?
How do you learn from nature?
How do you release grief and make space for the new world?