Walking Bertie on the beach is a slow job.

I want him to be the young energetic Staffy he used to be, always by my side running along and scrambling on the rocks.

It’s something that will never happen, but it’s a fantasy that robs me of the time I do have with him.

The temptation is to just take him home, because all he really wants to do is kip.

But funnily enough, there’s times when I sit in the park alone after work n London, wishing I had Bertie with me so we could just chill  and bask in the sunshine together. 

It’s interesting, when we have what we want, we then want something else, something more or different.

It’s no wonder there’s currently a massive increase in mental health issues.

I like teaching myself how to be more present and appreciative of what I have rather than what I want or would prefer. (Its not something I master, but I do attempt to be more aware of what I do have).

How can I make the best of now? Of what is?

I’m not saying we try to pretend it’s always better than what we would prefer, but if in the moment we can’t make that a reality, how can we prevent ‘the impossible’ robbing us of the possible and focusing on creating ‘the best of now’.

Of appreciating what is.

Bertie likes sleeping and eating, I thought to myself. 

Each day I have a 45 min lunch break and always wish I had more time to eat my lunch and just relax. 

Right now is that space for both of us I realised.

So we went to the Chippy, got some chips and we shared them and just sat looking out at the sea with no alarm call to tell me to get back to work.

After the feast, Bertie slept with his head on my lap. Perfect all round.

I often make myself imagine those things taken away from.us, like Bertie no longer being here, and how that will feel.

Them I imagine getting those things I care about back – like Bertie in this exercise, and then being in that moment, which is now and how great that feels to have him back.

Find ways to create the best version of now, rather than making now worse by wishing it was something else.

(Since I wrote this post several weeks ago, Bertie regretfully is no longer with us and I’m so grateful I was able to recognise the information I’ve laid out in this post at that time, and spent some quality time with him instead of hurrying him home and doing something else without him.

It was the last time I really spent time with him when he was well enough to recognise me.

He was a massive part of my life and I’m glad I got to share my chips with him and we got to watch the sea roll in together one last time.

Try to be present and not waste these sort of moments – because one day we wont be able to get them back.)

Sometimes what seems the easiest option is actually causing us the most strain.

What made me acknowledge this recently was whilst I was working at a repetitive task of making lots of light fittings, which, like most jobs that pay the bills, can be very monotonous. 

The best and quickest way to embark on this type of task is to get a good work station, like a desk and a seat with plenty of room to lay everything out so you can create a sort of production line.

Luckily, someone had already assembled a desk and I grabbed some cable drums and made a seat. So far so good.

The first issue I noticed however was the artificial light was behind me casting a shadow over an already dark room.

Being that I was in an internal part of the building which had no natural light and limited temporary lighting  – (light that is erected during new builds where no lighting exists) – the light was pretty bad to start with.

With limited space, sitting on the other side of the desk so this did not happen, was also not an option.

And that’s no different in life.

Sometimes we can not change the environment we live in.

Instead we have to learn to adapt to it.

So at first I used the light on my phone to help me see the more intricate parts of the light fitting, to make sure nothing went bang when it’s switched on!

Being that this was not an ideal, the next day I bought a headlamp for a hands free solution.

This was better than the artificial light alone or the phone light, but using it all day still strains the eyes  – and the patience – especially when the batteries start fading on the head torch.

As I said – sometimes we have to learn to adapt to the environment because there is no choice.

However, we usually adapt because we don’t know how to – (or do not want to)  – do what it takes to change.

What it takes to change often feels as though it will be harder work than living with the insidious and often mild, but constantly, drip fed feeling of discomfort we are currently experiencing.

In order to break free of this we have to reach a threshold, or to find something more important to us than our current situation is providing.

For me, the reason I put up with the conditions was because the pain related to the idea of upheaval and moving all my stuff somewhere else during day two seem an absolute ball ache!

However on day two I eventually packed up and moved out. Why?

Because the pain associated which moving was eventually outweighed by the pain of sore eyes.

Sore eyes rather than logic or common sense made me look for a solution. 

We need to reach threshold or be inspired to do something that is more important to us than what is currently keeping us stuck.

The hassle of moving is far less important to me than the value of my eyesight.

So as soon as my threshold for eye strain was reached, I looked for a new solution. 

Sometimes when we eventually can’t take anymore and move, we often find the solution was no where near as hard as we had envisaged.

And even when its not the hardest part is actually moving. Once we get started momentum usually keeps us going.

In fact my solution was literally In the next room!

There was a table already there and large windows with natural light pouring in front of me.

I got the help of one of the apprentices to help me shift the gear and my seat into my new accommodation and within 10 minutes, the production line was back in full force and the preparation to bring light to the some of the good people of London continued!

Sometimes life, as they say, gives us nothing but lemons, so we have to find ways to adapt and making the best of what we have – like making lemonade. 

But more often than not, we have plenty of resources and choices.

What stops us looking for a better solution is that we believe it will be harder and more painful  to fix it or to move, than it will to endure our current situation.

Next time something like this happens to you, chances are you won’t do anything unless you reach threshold. I’m a realist. 

However if we are aware enough – or willing to even recognise this pattern and want to help ourselves negotiate the change, it maybe worth asking ourselves –

What’s my current problem?

What’s my current solution? (that’s currently making you feel shitty)

What’s my pay off from staying stuck? (what am I avoiding doing that will be a pain in the arse to do?)

What’s going to be the cost to staying as I am?

Only when we make it too expensive – (the cost), like the idea of me damaging my sight was to me, will we find the willingness to get up and move.

I go to a workshop or a course or buy a book because I believe it might be the answer or solution I’ve been looking for that will turn it all around.

Intellectually and logically, as I’m sure we all do, especially when we are looking outwardly to someone else suggested this, we know it’s not likely to happen. When we hear it from someone else it even sounds ridiculous!

However emotionally and secretly – even to ourselves – we do want to believe this.

That’s why advertising works. Intellectually we know that cream can’t turn back time and that aftershave won’t make us irresistible to women, but we still buy it.

That’s how it’s marketed because deep down that’s what we want and hope is true for us and why we are willing to pay for it.

And that’s always my conflict.

With everything I’ve learnt throughout the years of participating in workshops, qualifying in a plethora of methodologies, of reading extensively and using myself as a human guinea pig  I’ve never found a panacea. 

A stand alone system that elevates the human condition in its entirety that afterwards delivers us as a new person.

What I have discovered are lots of ways to cope with, to manage and perceive my current reality that allows me to experience it better. 

That maybe handling a traumatic episode or appreciating a moment in time that may other wise have been missed. 

There are times when stress or anger dominate my life and from what I’ve learnt, there’s ways in which I can alleviate the frequency or alleviate the fallout quicker than if I was left to my ‘natural’ coping mechanisms would take much longer and cause me more pain.

There’s ways to help reduce anxiety and depressive episodes and times of disparity or despondency. 

There’s ways to generate confidence where prior to using these systems I would revert to default beliefs and behaviours.

There’s lots of ways to be the best version of who we are, rather than what I often hope to find, which is a way to be someone else. 

Which is sad when I hear myself say that out loud or see those words as I write them here.

But this is a great example of a method, such as writing something down showing us how we are thinking.

Writing something down is what I call ‘thought fly paper’ because it’s stops disruptive thoughts buzzing about and distracting us. 

And as we look closely at them stuck to the page, we can see them for what they are – (which often are much smaller than they appear to be from the sound they make or the psychological damage they are inflicting as the vibration of their movements isolate violently the longer they fly around in our confined head space that we inhabit when we are troubled.)

But even then there’s work to be done. 

There’s introspection but then we need to be willing to take action. 

There’s the constant game of snakes and ladders that no method ensures a perfect role of the dice each time.

All I know is that regardless of what systems are out there, change takes a lot of work and it’s constant and can at times feel futile. 

And I don’t have the answer, or the solution. 

But what I constantly strive for whilst I continue to search for the Holy Grail is to hone the skills that allow me to carry on that search, regardless of the mental and physiological challenges that come my way.

When we role the dice that sends us down the big snake to the bottom of the board what I do have and offer others (often after a hissy fit from being so pissed off with what’s just happened) are ways to continually get up, look up and start moving forwards and back towards the summit. 

Not with one system and certainly not pain free or effortlessly. 

But systematically and progressively. One foot in front of the other and with an understanding that we can keep going. 

It not about being ‘part smart’ but recognising that who we are as people, is a holistic unit that must be addressed as such, via lots of different approaches and with experimentation and most importantly a willingness to work.