20 Aug 2020

Why does mindfulness colouring work?

Okay, I'm not putting this up for debate. What I'm saying right now is that mindfulness colouring does work to reduce stress levels and make you feel calmer. Now, it's not going to appeal to everyone and it's not going to be something which is enough to reduce some people's stress enough to make you feel "better" but it is a stress-busting method. That's not to say that there are no problems with it, but it does work.

One of the reasons it works is because it's self-soothing. One of the great things about something self-soothing is that it doesn't matter where you are or who you are with, it's possible to reduce your stress levels. That's really important at the moment, given that COVID has made people more isolated than they have been previously. It won't stop you from feeling isolated, but it will be a soothing exercise which will be able to reduce your stress levels. 

One of my favourite things about it though is that it's pretty cheap. It upsets me that because it became such a trend and some of these colouring books were becoming really expensive. Considering the stress that finances cause us, I find that really difficult to accept, but if money is a problem then it is possible to get a children's colouring book pretty cheaply and either crayons, coloured pencils or felt tips from places like the pound shop or Wilko which make it more accessible. I appreciate that it still might be outside of some people's budgets though. 

One of the main reasons that mindfulness colouring works is because it gives us something else to focus upon than all of the stressors in our lives. If all you have to think about for a few minutes is what colour you want to make a certain part of the picture, that's good, because that's not something that should cause us stress. 

When you get to the end of the picture, there's a sense of achievement that should make you feel good. I say should, because there are some issues with this. The sense of achievement at having finished it can be marked with other things. The achievement is good, and you might be really impressed that you don't feel very creative or artistic, but this is a thing that you've created and this is something artistic. If you've planned it, you might have got something that you want to be artwork on your wall, or for your children or for a gift for someone else. Maybe that influenced your colour choices when you were making them! It's great to have that, but it's also not completely necessary. I know of people who have coloured in their pictures and then they either rip them up, as another little stress buster or they put them in the recycling. If you know that you have used none toxic colours, you can shred the paper and use it for things like hedgehog or rabbit bedding. It might be possible to donate long paper shreddings (not out of a cross-cutting machine) to your local wildlife sanctuary for them to make use of. 

Some of us though, and I say us because I'm definitely in this group!, are hypercritical of everything we do and that extended to our self-soothing exercises. There's a little voice in your head like a mental woodpecker and rather than making a tapping noise as it's drilling into a tree, it sits there saying things like, you're not flexible enough for yoga, you're terrible at this, you're making a tit of yourself. When you're in talking cure therapy, it might be saying something like 'the therapist has heard all this before' 'you're just moaning' 'there are people with real problems in the world'. When you've done your mindfulness colouring, it might be saying that you've coloured over the lines in places, chosen the wrong colour in others and that you've wasted a whole lot of time colouring when you could have been dealing with the things that are making you stressed. It might also make you question whether to give someone the piece that you were thinking of giving them, because 'why would they want that?' 'you're not a child; they're not going to put your artwork on the fridge now you're x years old.' We are quite vicious with ourselves sometimes. 

When you speak to yourself like that, try and catch yourself.  Try and remind yourself that if you said that to anyone else, you'd think you were mean, so don't speak to yourself like that! You are not your own punching bag. It takes practice and it sometimes takes energy that we don't think we have, but it's worth saying, I'm not an artist, but I'm proud of what I have done. I was struggling so, at the time when I was colouring, I needed to do something self-soothing, because, after that, I went off and did... whatever is on your to-do list. You can't operate in a constant state of panic for very long. You don't function well in that environment, so giving yourself the time and space to calm down, even just a little, means you can recalibrate and then do things effectively afterwards. 

It's also worth remembering when you colour outside of the lines, you're not using mindfulness colouring to try and get a piece of artwork into the Tate or any other gallery; it's a tool to help you to have a minute and calm yourself. Gifts don't need to be the best pieces of artwork either - you just want them to be thoughtful and you want them to know you've spent your time on something for them. Nothing is more valuable than your time. 

There's something else you can try as well though when you're colouring. It's not supposed to be a high level, highly focused activity, but when you are colouring, try to control your breathing. Try to meditate at the same time, but not the way that we normally see people meditating of sat cross-legged and eyes closed. Think about your breathing, and focus on a good breath in through the nose and then a longer breath out through the mouth. It might seem a little odd, because how can you breathe out more than you breathe in, but it's more, holding your breath and controlling the release of it. You want to try and get away from the ideas of ragged breathing or hyperventilating that you can get into when you're anxious or your scared or you are pushing yourself into that panicked breathing. It doesn't have to be the whole time that you are colouring, but a couple of minutes, or even a minute - an actual, full minute, sixty seconds of commitment - is enough. And it, like a lot of things, will become easier with practice. If your brain tells you that you look or sound like 'a tit' remember that it doesn't matter what you look like in this moment, or what your sound like. You need a minute and you can have a minute. You can do it with your children or with others, and the quiet companionship of it is actually another great assistance. 

It's possible to look at other options as well, like apps for mindfulness colouring. It's something whether you can be looking at your phone - though I would remind you that doing this just before bed won't help you sleep as well as the paper version because of the blue light on screens  - or an iPad or other device which you can get the apps on. I would suggest putting on a 'Do Not Disturb' function or similar, so Facebook, Twitter or whatever else is trying to suck your attention away from it. The great thing about it is it colours in the lines for you and some of them even tell you what colour goes where. You can still pair it with mindfulness breathing exercises and it will still have an effect, though I believe there have been studies which show that the effect of putting pen (or pencil, or crayon) to paper has a different effect to when we're using our phones or typing on a laptop. 


You might be wondering why on Earth I'm talking, or er, writing, about this at the moment, but the reason is that COVID has eaten into the resilience that a lot of people have, and it has stolen some of our coping mechanisms. It has stripped people of friendship networks and human connections that we need and forced on us a solitude which has made many people severely uncomfortable. Sat here in my office in Manchester, I'm trying to tell myself not to worry about what looks like the second wave sweeping over Europe and reports of third waves in other places. I'm doing what I can to look after myself with all the hand washing and mask-wearing, and I'm making masks for the people around me to try and make the people I love safe, but I also know that if a second wave hits, my medication is sorted, mostly, and I'm in a good, well goodish, place mentally. I'm with my parents and my dog, so not lost and lonely in my little flat in London, and I have a few good coping mechanisms that are making me feel better, but I worry about the people around me, and also people that I don't know. Self-control and self-care are good ways to increase your resilience and make you better able to cope with the stress and trauma that we're trying to deal with in our lives at the moment. I talk about mental health a lot, so it seems like a logical extension of that. :) 

15 Aug 2020

Part Three: Let's Talk About the Move

I think it's pretty common knowledge by now that I made the decision to move back to Manchester for financial reasons. I want to own a flat in London before too long, and as things were, it was going to be a long time until I could afford the kind of deposit I need to get the kind of flat that I want to have - something bigger than a shoebox. If I'm not having to spend a lot of money on rent, council tax and a bunch of other things, I'll be able to save a lot more cash towards that deposit. Since everyone's working from home anyway, now seems like the sensible time to do it.

I have a heck of a lot of books that needed to be packed and that made me sad. I had a lot of dresses to pack which made me feel pretty depressed. I had to pack all of my cake-making things and that made me feel pretty bored. All of the packing was pretty difficult, whether it was because of the emotion of packing away certain things and the emotion of getting rid of certain things. Whether it was having to think about getting rid of something because I didn't want to keep the emotional baggage that came with it, or just putting other things that I love and that feel like a part of my home away for the next year. 

The whole process of moving was always going to be sucky, but I seem to have been packing for months and then all of a sudden my parents were picking up the van in Manchester, driving down to London in it and the next morning we had a group of three moving men turn up to help get everything out of the building. Thankfully one of my friends also dived in to help on the logistics side of things, because the building I was moving out of was a bit of a crazy one.

One of the moving men was one of the guys who helped me to move into the flat three years ago. He came in, asked what was going and then just got stuck in. One of them was this young lad who was really sweet and quite timid, but a really good hard worker and the last one was more interested in talking than working and kept asking questions I wasn't really comfortable with. He was arrogant and he was clumsy and if I book in with them again to help me move into a new place when I get it, I'm going to ask that he isn't a part of the team. He did stupid things like packing fragile boxes which said 'DO NOT SQUASH' under other things, knocked things over by walking into them and dropped a few things as well. He was asking my mum if I was single, and if I was interested in men from other countries with this look on his face, and thankfully my mum knows me pretty well, so she told him I wasn't, even though it's not something which crosses my mind, but I wasn't interested in him, I wasn't interested in thinking about meeting anyone, and I was drugged up to my eyeballs with anti-depressants to try and cope with the stress of moving. He made me feel nothing but uncomfortable anyway. 

I had been worrying that everything wouldn't fit into the van, but thankfully, we managed to get rid of a few furniture bits to a neighbour the night before which really helped, because they were things I would have wanted to get rid of anyway, and thankfully my dad is a world-class Tetris master, so he was able to pack everything in and only use about half of the space in the van which was good. It did make me think I could have spent less on a smaller van, but these things happen and it's always better to overestimate than underestimate. I was just really glad I didn't spring for the Luton because we really wouldn't have needed it. 

I'm not going to say it all went smoothly. There was a touch of traffic on the way back and the M6 toll services seemed to be getting further and further away at just the point where we needed to pull in for petrol, then when we did pull in for petrol, Dad came back to the van with a coffee for himself and told us they had Teapigs, then Mum dropped her peppermint tea on the floor when we got just three steps out of the door because her mask flew off and it just threw her completely, but the garage was nice enough to replace it for her and the rest of the drive wasn't too bad. Even getting everything off the van and into the storage unit wasn't too traumatic, though I have no idea where anything is now, so a job for another day will be organising it all a bit more, but there we go. It happened, we got back in one piece and Teddy was over the moon to see us when I went to pick him up, so we can't really complain too much about that. I'm going to have to look at options for how to do the move back down south though because I'm not sure any of us are really up to that drive again. 

Late one for the end of camp,

Striking The Tents

Camp is over, and part of me is really glad. 

Yesterday was the first time after thirty one days I wasn't trying to fit posting a blog at the optimum time into my life and honestly, it was great. Weird, but pretty freeing. I was still writing, because I still have my just after New Year's resolution of writing every day to keep up and I still have 4 the words challenges to do, plus digitising a whole bunch of drafts and false starts in case I want them at some point, but it doesn't really matter if I do that past ten at night when everyone in the house has gone to sleep. It doesn't really matter if there are typos or words missing, because that's not a one and done draft with only Grammarly to check it over. Thankfully, no one is going to read that, or not any time soon anyway. Yesterday was a pretty good day because it gave me some mental breathing room where I didn't need to think about what to write, when to write it and whether it was coming across in my "usual style". 

Surprisingly, Camp has also been tough because of a loss of community. Now, that's not me saying that without in person events I don't feel like NaNoWriMo has a community, because we do. We kind of have several. There's the ML crowd, the Facebook crowd, the sprint leads crowd, the Twitter crowd, the forum crowd and the friends you met whilst travelling to a different group crowd, as well, and I'm probably missing a whole bunch of others, but particularly for London, I feel like our community values the events that we run and values the time we spend together in the basement of Pret on Hanover Square and I would be lying if I said I wasn't missing them. I miss getting a filter coffee and a breakfast sandwich, sitting with my friends, debating whether the music was at the wrong volume and moaning about the wifi and whether the plugs work. I miss us rearranging some of the basement to make us fit a bit better or to be able to be more sociable. 

I talk about NaNo at work so people know that when I'm busy, it's not just work busy, it's life busy. I also want them to know if I'm tired, it might not just be a lack of sleep, but also writing can be quite taxing on my brain, so it can take me longer to think things through. The pressure of NaNoWriMo and the competition of it, even if it is only competing against yourself, gives me a solid kick up the bum to get writing, but it's also a long, exhausting trek and I'm always glad of a bit of a rest afterwards. It's also really nice to keep writing because I want to as opposed to being because I have to. This month was the second time we went through a competition in the pandemic, and I'm really glad for it, because both have kind of acted like practice runs for November. Having a dry run at it has been really useful, because it's given us time to think about what we need before November and see how restrictions might be. For some, that might have scared the pants off of them for what this November will look like, but for me, the practice actually makes me feel calmer and more confident that, whilst it isn't what we would choose and it's not what we asked for, we can get through this and it won't suck. Or it won't completely suck. 

Everything is changing so quickly at the moment that I have no idea what November will look like, but if it looks anything close to what camp has, I'm not worried. Everything is a whole new experience at the moment, so if it means more time on Zoom calls, Skype and Facebook rooms or whatever, so be it. If we have to be together wearing masks, then that's how it will be. What I'm personally starting to doubt though is the return to  normalcy we might have been expecting as this call began in March. 

I know that this is going to bring unexpected challenges for some and unexpected delights for others. I know that we'll miss out on things like our favourite drinks in certain venues, the pumpkin ravioli in The Mad Hatter Hotel - I will never get over how beautiful that was, and how it made me realise that chestnuts are one of the most beautiful foods in the world - or sipping mulled wine together in Soho or Angel. It's more than just the food and the booze, of course, because there are some of our people that we only see in November and not seeing them for two years was not what we bargained for when we hugged or waved goodbye last November, but whatever happens, we will bare it the very best that we can, because it is what we have to do.