Lavengro
Writing and ramblings from a frustrated, neurotic, unknown and unpublished writer!
Wednesday 20 January 2016
Thursday 31 December 2015
Insomnia
Start of the Lunar Eclipse
© Diana Morrison
28/09/15
|
I get very tired of not sleeping. Oh sure, I can fall asleep... eventually, but staying there or returning to it having woken at stupid o'clock, usually after just an hour, is generally a real problem,
but I'm beginning to realise that I'm not alone. Facebook posts from ridiculous times of the morning inform me that many of my friends are right there with me - and yes, I do know that using my mobile phone in the middle of a bout of insomnia is not helping me at all - but thanks for mentioning it!
Trawling through my Facebook news feed yesterday, I came across an interesting gem that one of my fellow insomniacs posted entitled "Trouble sleeping? Here's How I Learned to Fall Asleep in Under 1 Minute Every Night." Well, of course I was going to check it out.
Oh, it all comes down to the "4-7-8" breathing trick - er the what, now? Apparently, it is a method devised by a Wellness Practitioner, (...OK...), Dr Andrew Weil, Harvard-educated student of meditation and breathing techniques to counteract stress. According to the article, "you breath in through your nose for four seconds, hold it for seven seconds, and exhale through your mouth for eight seconds." The method allegedly "slows down your heart rate," and "also releases chemicals in our brains that soothe you."
Well, that's quite a claim. So, without changing any of my bedtime routine - I still played my three games of Yahtzee on my phone (Yes. I know!) - I decided to give it a go, and guess what? I don't think I fell asleep in under a minute and I felt a little strange and light-headed, but having just rushed down the stairs to referee a cat spat, and back up again, I could feel my accelerated heart rate slowing and the next thing I knew it was 03:30, exactly three hours after I had turned out the light. Mr Mews was jumping on my head asking to be let out - (Mr Mews is a cat and not my significant other - in case you were wondering.) Three hours - I couldn't believe my luck. The real test then, was whether the trick would work now that I was wide awake in Wee Small Hour Land; the place where my head tends to turn terrorist on me and batter me with an unrelenting parade of problems, both real and imagined until sleep is no longer an option and the services of a good psychotherapist would be most welcome - hence the early morning Facebook sojourn. I tried the trick again - I think it was only four or five breaths this time - and was woken by the alarm at 06:30; another three hours sleep, give or take ten minutes.
I wish I could say that today I was blessed with boundless energy, but I wasn't. I did, however feel more alert and possibly a little less stressed than usual. I was able to temporarily disconnect the automatic pilot, with a view to decommissioning it altogether should this neat little trick, once properly practised and fine-tuned, help me to repay my sleep debt and ensure that I am gifted with my full quota of repose in the future.
I hope that this could work for you too - whether for the obtaining a good night's sleep or for control in a stressful situation. Do remember though, to get a proper diagnosis of the problem if you are worried about your sleep patterns, especially if they have altered radically over a short period of time. Some common causes of insomnia can be found by following the link below.
I wish you all a very happy, healthy and sleep-filled new year x
Tuesday 15 December 2015
Announcing ... a new venture!
Friday 5 September 2014
The Sea, The Sea
Sandy Cove Picture by Diana Morrison 04/09/14 |
I am so lucky to
live so close to the sea. Even now, it holds a childish magic for me possibly
due to its association with holidays and happy times, those shiny distant days
of endless sunshine and laughter, which were probably nothing of the sort but
for wistful nostalgia!
I was born in Leicester,
which if you didn't know, is in the East Midlands of England and is about as
far away as you can get from the sea. The closest beach to us was Skegness, 85 miles east of us although my family preferred Mablethorpe for a day trip to the seaside, a
distance of 98 miles from our home. We didn't do that very often.
Our annual
holidays were always taken on magical Dartmoor,
222 miles away, a journey which took 5 hours 39 minutes, because my mother would
not let my father use the motorway - we're talking the 1970s here, so that
time may be inaccurate! From our B&B outside of Widecombe-in-the-Moor,
we had a choice of fabulous beaches close by; beautiful Dawlish and Teignmouth, Beer, Seaton and Beesands and
the fabulous Torbay beaches of Torquay, Paignton and Brixham and
as I said, the sun always shone. I would spend hours on my own just walking and
playing on the beach, pretending that I was some mystical Sea Person come to fight
with the evil City and Sand People, wishing that I could remain forever and
crying when the day and indeed the holiday drew to a close.
Time passed and
circumstances changed, the altered family left Leicester in 1984 and settled in Gunnislake,
bang on the river Tamar, the border between Devon and Cornwall. Suddenly, the
closest beach was only forty minutes away. For a while it felt like being permanently
on holiday, although I had ostensibly grown out of imagining that I was
that "Sea Person.” Reality soon kicked in though, work had to be found and
an adult life had to be forged, the ups and downs of which were enhanced or
made bearable by proximity to the sea and knowing that I could escape whenever
I needed peace.
Jonathan’s love of
the sea eclipses mine. With a different upbringing and a different perspective,
he prefers to be on it rather than beside or in it. I was introduced to sailing
shortly after we met. Dromengro (which
means “Road Man” or traveller in Romany) was the name of his father’s boat. She
was fast and robust and big enough for a nervous sailor to feel safe in and I
fell in love. Unfortunately, my first trip aboard Dromengro, from Polruan to
Mylor, was to be my
last. We were sailing her to a yacht brokerage as she was for sale.
I still enjoy
sailing, but Ganga Devi (Jonathan’s 22ft yacht, with an incredible history), is a different ride to Dromengro and we have conflicting ideas
of what a good sail is. Keep in sight of land, don’t heel over too far and I'm happy!
On board Ganga Devi Picture by Diana Morrison 03/08/14 |
We moved to Ireland
in 2001 and our propinquity to the sea was initially down to less than five
minutes. We have moved house twice since then and whilst there is a lovely quay
at the bottom of a very steep hill in our village, the closest beach where the
waves can creep in and gently tickle the shore or crash in wildly on a fresh or
strong gale of wind, is Sandy Cove, which is less than ten minutes away.
I was there
yesterday evening, in the sea fog and drizzle, escaping from reality. It was
deserted and I stayed for an hour, taking photographs. I found the peace and solace
I needed to deal with a miserable situation at home – and I confess that just
for a little while, I pretended to be that Sea Person, silently shouting back at the
world.
Thursday 4 September 2014
Diana Morrison - Images
Picture by Diana Morrison 06/05/14 |
I have recently taken an unprecedented leap of self-confidence and set up a Facebook page to showcase my photography, which along with my writing, gives me a pleasing creative outlet that lets me indulge my introversion to the full!
The page, although still in its infancy has reached 94 "likes", OK, mostly from my Facebook friends, but I've had some nice comments and feedback so far, which is encouraging. If you want to check it out, like it and share it with your friends, here is the link:
On top of that, I have also set up an Instagram account, as a lot of the pictures I take with my mobile phone will not appear on my images page. If you want to follow me, I'll be very happy to see you there - here is the link:
Finally - look out for another blog post later - I'm going to be really brave and publish a random chapter from "Find the River" here. Eeeek!
OK - self promotion done and dusted for today, phew! I'm off to seek the company of my friends, The Pens!
Monday 28 April 2014
Not lost!
Coffee Break 21/03/14 Photo by Diana Morrison |
I've been writing, writing and writing for the past six months or maybe more. I think I've just about given up on the the short stories; I can't be succinct to save my life. Instead, I have been concentrating on my epic "Find the River" or possibly "Finding the River." It has been giving me hours of pleasure and distracting me from unpleasant things like housework! I am having to juggle it with the garden though!
Anyway, as I am no longer entering competitions, I am not having to worry about whether I'm allowed to have my entries on my blog. So I have updated my pages with my entire short story collection, such as it is!
Enjoy!
Tuesday 13 November 2012
Displaced
Bodmin Moor, Cornwall
Picture by Diana Morrison 22-08-12
Everyone needs to know where they belong and I'm struggling with that now.
I moved to Ireland from Cornwall eleven and half years ago. When we moved, the Celtic Tiger was roaring and the grass was definitely very green - even more so with the rose-tinted glasses that were firmly fixed to my face. My son was just shy of his third birthday, so he had not made any firm attachments to the UK. It was the perfect time to make the move to a land that seemed to be brimming with opportunity for both ourselves and him. Times were good in the early days. There seemed to be no shortage of work for Jonathan and he established himself as a first rate carpenter/joiner/cabinet maker very quickly. The education system seemed vastly superior to that in the UK and Sylvan thrived in his early years of school, mastering the Irish language with incredible ease. Sure, he had a bit of a turbulent time through bullying, but that was rectified with a change of school and bullying is not unique to Ireland. Time passed and we were content.
Castlehaven, West Cork
Picture by Diana Morrison 16-09-12
It seemed too good to last, and it was.
Global recession struck and Ireland was hit very hard. The work that was always plentiful was more hard to come by, as ordinary people could no longer afford to replace their windows or commission pieces of fine furniture. Thankfully, the rich are still rich (and possibly getting richer) and there are still a few people (mainly British) in the area that are able to keep some work coming in for Jonathan but prices in the supermarket and utility bills soared and it is hard just to stay afloat.
The biddable three year old is now a sulky teenager with an attitude somewhere between drama queen and rock star, and a passionate dislike of mornings and school!
I have been quietly contemplating a move back to Cornwall for a couple of years now. It's not really deserting the sinking ship, it's more a case of needing somewhere to belong and feel comfortable. This thought has been compounded more recently by the birth of my grandaughter and the longing to be closer to her mother, my step-daughter Bethany. It is now a dull ache that won't go away.
Unfortunately, Jonathan and Sylvan are not with me on this one. Sylvan has a great social life and has made a lot of friends that he would not give up easily. Jonathan says that he needs to be by the sea and that he thinks that he would miss Ireland too much, adding that I probably would too. He might be right and herein lies the feeling of displacement.
I know that the Cornwall I left will not be the Cornwall I would return to. Our visits have always confirmed that. People I knew and loved have grown and moved on and the economy is not much better than it is here. Ireland is very beautiful and I love it very much, but at the moment, it is stagnant and almost without hope. Most of her people have lost their passion and fire and idly sit back and let all the cuts and changes happen without much of a fight. Ireland has been known to have a second referendum on important issues because they didn't answer correctly in the first one!
The dilemma will continue for me. All I know is this: The main reason for staying right now is for Sylvan to finish his education but if I have many more mornings like this one, I'll be on that ferry in a flash!
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