amber rahim

Chronic illness: the parts we don't talk about

Tag Archives: positive psychology


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Come on in, my old friend Self Doubt. Come on in.

Inspired by a session with my coach on how we can shift out of (negative) emotional fields. We all have these thoughts of self doubt, that we are doing it wrong. But we don’t need to stay there. We can invite the feeling in, get to know it and then send it on its way.

Come on in, my old friend Self Doubt. Come on in.

You’ve been knocking on my door for so long. Whispering, and in turn shouting, through the letter box.

No matter how tightly I hold my hands against my ears or how loud I set the telly, I can still hear you.

So come on in. Have a seat. Get warm. Have some tea. Take two biscuits, not just one. Yes we are in the Netherlands but we are flouting the rules anyway by being together like this. Take the whole tin.

So what is that you want to tell me? What must I know?

Yes, I am a terrible mother.

Yes, I am emotionally scarring my children and they will never recover.

Yes, I am not doing all the things I set out to do.

Self Doubt, you keep telling me this as if I don’t know. What is your urgency? Are you trying to keep me away from joy? Are you trying to keep me small, afraid and guilt-ridden?

Well, it’s been working my friend.

But now that I have invited you in I can see you clearly.

You are small and frail. Brittle. Be careful with that tea, it may melt you, turn you into a puddle of ash.

Yes, now that I have invited you in I can see that you are small, not me. You are guilt-ridden, afraid, urgent. Not me.

You look tired. All this banging on doors and shouting through the letter box has tired you out. The anxiety is wasting you away. So let me send you to a wonderful place. A place in the sun, where you can relax. You do not need to speak for there is no one to hear you there.

Go. With my blessing and good wishes, go my old friend Self Doubt. It is time for us to part ways. We do not belong together.

I belong with Self Believe for I am interesting. I am quirky. I am dance.

I am a good mother.

shared.-5


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How to stop shouting at your kids: 1 simple rule

I have read many articles on this topic but have found one thing that you need to have in place for those tips to work. I discovered it after getting advise from a child psychologist.

About a year ago we asked a child psychologist for help. F had started to have tantrums. Major episodes of anger and sadness and we just couldn’t get through to her at all while it was going on.

Given the traumas in her past and the strict medicine routine that she is on, it was not surprising.

The psychologist talked to us and to her and gave us some things to try (we had already been doing some and had some new ideas).

Then she said this:

“next time she has a tantrum, record it so that I can see what she is doing.  And I can hear what you say and maybe give you some tips on how to respond”.

This was it. The moment of inspiration.

Yes, I hate my voice being recorded and really did not want to see what I looked like on film but it was something else. The thought of being observed, especially by a psychologist, that made me pause.

You see, it’s hard to keep calm, be patient, be neutral even, when you have a kid suddenly dive full on into a tantrum. They can have been annoying the hell out of you all day long and then launch into a fit and yet I’m supposed to stay calm, rational. I’m supposed to but I don’t always succeed.

So that pause told me something: that I was pretty sure that I was not helping the situation. I probably added fuel to the fire.

So I went home and thought about it. What if, in my interactions with my kids, I behaved as if someone was watching me?

Ever noticed, when you are at your mum’s or in-laws house and your kids start acting up, how much patience you have? Or when you are at the park? Oh, definitely now: when other mums are around?

I started noticing.

My tone of voice, my level of calm, my ability to bite my tongue and not join in the snarky-ness. These were all different when other people were around and when in the back of my mind I thought “if she kicks off, I’m going to be filmed as well as her”.

She never had such a big tantrum again. Yes she played up. Yes she got really angry. Yes she got really sad and cried and shouted.

But I did not.

So this is my conclusion:

There is no one more patient than a parent who is being watched. And a watched parent never shouts.

A Watched Parent Never Shouts

 


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Make the ordinary come alive

I know, comparing yourself or your life to others is the first step on the road to dissatisfaction and frustration yet sometimes I do compare. Or notice the differences.

Perhaps I am just fooling myself, but “noticing the differences” feels better, more innocent, even a touch scientific. There’s a clinical detachment with “noticing”.

Ok, I’m getting distracted. What have I been noticing?

It’s the school holidays and as usual we don’t have a lot planned. While there is an underlying spirit of freedom, going with the flow, living spontaneously, there is a seed of doubt: are we just too tired to put some effort into it? It’s hard enough figuring out what we are going to have for dinner let alone plan exciting adventures that all the kids will love.

Try to find something that a 13 year old boy, a 6 year old girl and a 2 year old toddler will all like and can do at the same place. And that doesn’t cost a fortune. (Leave tips in the comments)

But when you have swings, climbing frame and a football… Everyone is happy. So although there are so many amazing things we could be doing while on holiday, most of the time we are playing in the garden.

While I was noticing how our activities are always super simple and wondering if I was shortchanging my kids, a dear friend of mine sent me this (and saved me):

image

I don’t know who wrote this but I like it. I love it. It is at the heart of me and everything I believe about life. Sometimes I forget but when you appreciate and value what you already have, life is extraordinary.


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The Art of Lego: (re)visited

A while ago I wrote about the Art of the Brick exhibition. I couldn’t decide if we should go or not.

Well, we went.

It was really great. It’s amazing to see these great pieces of art and sculpture. My thoughts flitted between “oh, so that’s how you do it” (to recreate The Scream with lego) to “how will I ever be satisfied by my own creations ever again?”

S didn’t break any pieces but she did hug the lego man in the play area at the end. And started to build onto him (well, they put lego there to play with! it was hard to stop her).

F loved it. She listened to the audio tapes about the artwork for every piece. Well, she certainly used the device and entered the number for each piece, I don’t know how much of the recording she actually paid attention to.

Sometimes you just need to stop thinking and go and do what your heart desires.

photo-3S is at that age when she really wants to see the picture you have taken, and comes to look before I have even taken the picture. But trust me, it was really cute to see her hug this lego man.

 


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The blessings of tragedy

Last night I had an opportunity to get to know some fabulous women a little better.

As we each took turns sharing something about ourselves it struck me that there was something we had in common: a pivotal moment of hardship. Something happened that made us re-evaluate our lives.

The result? We became women who choose what we want in our lives.

Consciously choosing to spend our time on things that give us energy.

And possibly more importantly, choosing what we don’t want.

Someone expressed what I secretly hope to achieve with my new business: “I only work with people that I want to work with”. How amazing is that? Thank you for your inspiration, this is what I want to be able to say.

As for the rest of my life, I have been working towards this too.  My life is not filled with lots of people, but the ones who are in it are important to me, that love me and I love them.

The precious time that I have, I want to use for them (and it is precious. About 25% of my waking hours are spent on being a carer).

So the blessing of my tragedy of chronic illness is that I know that time is precious. I don’t waste it. (much)

Now, look back to my 20s I wonder what I was doing with my time and I realise that a I was doing a lot of “filling it”. How tragic.

So now, like the ladies I met last night, I am consciously choosing, fitting the important things in first. And trying not to fill all the gaps in the jar with sand – but trying to leave empty spaces where the air can get in and I can breathe.

for-web-Big-Things-First

thanks Christi for the image

 

p.s while I was looking for images I came across this. Just love it.

buy the damn shoes

 


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Ooh wish I was a cat


I’m taking a break this week.  I am tired, pleasantly tired . Oh and replacing the kitchen so the house is a mess.

If any of you know where to get one of these for humans (not an ordinary hammock but just like this and especially with the fluffy lining) don’t tell me where I can get one, just send one to me. Please.

image

Chilled out CPCC