The Midwife/Nurse Hobbyfarmer

I wrestle often (not so much these days, admittedly) with that irritable, bitchy little woman in my head, the one who’s easily annoyed.

My sensitive-flower nervous system screeches when conditions are ‘wrong,’ would prefer if I lived in a hut up a mountain or flower-filled meadow or whispery rainforest with black cockatoos flying over.        

Meditation gives me that feeling, calms my farm, makes me better to be around. Being sober as a judge helps too.

(No shade btw, i’m not advising, I’m not yer mother!)

It wasn’t on my radar growing up  (1970’s Scotland, so much not) Stoicism was prized, mental health issues/anxieties not discussed, shoved under the carpet, brave face n all that, chin up (terrible advice for some.)          

The pendulum’s swung too far maybe?  2026 could do with a dose of 1970’s stoicism. Do you think?                                                      

Anyway, I digress. All I knew of meditation was from the  ‘Iso Tank’ episode in Absolutely Fabulous  (lol!) and the Beatles. John, Paul, George, Ringo and Maharishi Yogi, sitting cross-legged, in white robes and floral garlands, talking of this creativity-enhancing wondrous state.                                     

Turns out it’s available to anyone, rockstardom not required.

I’ve been at it for a while.

1996, new country, new home, new job, weekly evenings teaching a room full of expectant couples (not my comfort zone.) Needing to find confident me, tame overthinking, anxious brain, tame inner witch/bitch.

A cosy womb-like room, a clinical psychologist (Tracy,) given a mantra, a word to focus on. Equanimity the goal, learning to be present, in the moment, watch thoughts, not be controlled by them. The mantra didn’t stick but the practise did.

1999, pregnancy (me) yoga, mornings, timber floored church, soft blankets, pillows, soothing-voiced teacher (Jane,) guided relaxation, hypnotic vibe. 

2000, up in the rainforest, Turkish rug-covered floor, sitting in circle, new mums, babies on the breast, toddlers crawling (mine,) guided meditations, lovely moments of calm. Hippy teachers, he with his Jesus robes and hair, (cult vibes🤔) she with her soporific voice. They didn’t stay, Byron or Nimbin bound I’d say.      

2005, occasional evening Yoga class, village hall, mats, blankets, pillows, candlelight. Surrounded by inspiring women, mature, elderly, strong and supple (soft, sleep-deprived me fell asleep, every single time.)     

Trying to be a good mum, failing often, shouty at times, irritated (worried I’d scar my poor weans for life?!😫) Where the hell‘s ma equanimity when I need it! 

(I’ve forgiven myself btw. New motherhood, all that love, all that joy, is hard and intense too and ma big delightful lads don’t seem scarred.)  

2010, Tuesday evening Zen, tiny old church, priest-like teacher (no flowing locks or Jesus robes this time) grey hair, glasses, quiet voice. Small group, 4-5  strangers, 3 x 25-minute silent sessions (surreal, what the hell am I doing here?)  black floor cushions, upright postures, incense, tinkling bells, silent walking  (stifling occasional giggle,) calmer me in the room, inner witch tucked away. So worthwhile.

When I couldn’t get to a class, no teachers, too tired, Rob away, no babysitters. I read and read and read.

Certain books offered support, made

me feel seen in my (not so) terrible mothering moments and ridiculous anxieties.  

(Buddhism for mothers, Full Catastrophe Living, Wherever You Go There You Are,         Hand Wash Cold, Be Here Now.)

2012, Headspace (App,) Andy-what’s-his-name, jovial, manly, charismatic, a game changer. Insight Timer (another,) favourite teachers, favourite voices, on repeat. 

2015, feeling slightly mental, menopause (turns out) job issues, decisions. Another womb-like room, a wise-woman, listening. “Have you tried meditation?”                  

Yes! I have 🧘‍♀️🧘‍♀️🧘‍♀️⭐️✨💫🤩💛    

These days,  post menopause, through the hormonal chaos, the wild ups and downs, calmer all round, not living on the go, go, go, next, next, next treadmill, that elusive equanimity much more within reach. A favourite teacher’s soothing, rational voice can be in ma ears anytime. Amazing.                                          

Solitary walks at dawn, no music, no podcast, breathing in the peace and quiet, listening to the birds. 

Meditation is not an instant fix. Life is full of suffering (it’s meant to be!) but perfect and beautiful too. Note to self, notice the tiny gorgeous ordinary moments, they’re happening all the time.