Serendipity II

I have written about this before: when something happens in the space and time you need it to, and it feels beautiful. 

I decided to go and sit in the sauna for a bit after my swim on Tuesday morning. Getting a monthly membership to a gym with a nice swimming pool and other amenities, including the cafe where I am writing this now, is the best investment I have made in myself in a very long time. I love being in water. I feel transported; all gorgeous and mermaidey. Or dolphiney. Or somethingey. It is almost impossible to feel chubby in water, put it that way. I literally have to force myself to stop bobbing around and get out. I can’t think of another form of exercise that has such a cheering effect on me. 

I didn’t sleep well on Monday night. I woke up in the early hours feeling incredibly stressed. Worrying about youngest and his Stuff. He’d said something before bed that really spiked right into my heart and stayed there; had made my Phoenix’ feathers start to smoulder. ‘I’ll be ok when I’m older. I’ll have a wife and I won’t have so much to worry about’. 

These words made me feel such sadness and despair. Is my twelve-year-old really waiting for adult life in order to feel happy? What if (and he won’t be the first), the feelings that overcome him now, continue then? And what if he doesn’t find a ‘wife’?

I’ve spoken to school. They are working on a ‘toolkit’ of techniques to help him when he’s feeling bad. He has a card he can hold up when he needs to leave the classroom.  I’ve been trying to help him myself, too; share some of my learnings - mindfulness, full body relaxation, sitting with your feelings instead of trying to escape them. Countdown from three and then jump up and put a pumping song on. I’ve had a poster of things you can do to lift your mood and deal with anxiety on the bathroom wall for years. 

He is wise and knows that a walk outside, or doing some exercise, helps. But he is so often overcome. He came into the kitchen and hugged me and cried yesterday evening while I was making tea. Just because he was feeling sad and he didn’t know why. And I can’t lie. It takes everything I’ve got not to break down and cry with him. I held him.

Lately I have started explaining that he needs to be gentle with me sometimes, understand that his feelings impact on people around him and that we really need to be open to possible solutions. He has done play therapy and a bit of talking therapy. He says nothing works. That my being stressy is proof. 

It’s so hard not to feel responsible. To see someone you love, suffering. Not to see yourself as a ball of learnt anxiety. Having time off work is wonderful, but you don’t de-stress overnight. 

Anyway… I got into the sauna when I saw a couple of men leave. There was a woman in there. She started talking and if I’m honest, I wasn’t sure I wanted her to. 

 ‘Would you believe both those men have had quadruple heart bypasses?’ she said. 

‘Gosh,’ I replied. ‘What even IS a quadruple heart bypass? Is it a bypass you’ve had four times?’

‘I think it’s when you’ve had all four valves replaced. One of them was in intensive care for two months and needs to go back again for another valve replacement because the last isn’t working properly’.

I was silent for a moment, trying to remember what comes after ‘quadruple’. God, I feel like my brain is packing in.

‘The resilience of people is incredible, isn’t it?’ I offered. ‘I think if I knew I needed heart surgery, I’d just assume my time had come and give up. Either way, all that puts some of the things I worry about into perspective’. 

‘Yes, I think I might give up too, she said, ‘but I’ve got much better at not worrying about stuff as I’ve got older.

For a second I wondered if she has a significant other to put his or her arms around her and tell her that everything is going to be alright. I sure would like some of that in my life. 

‘I mostly worry about my children at the moment,’ I said. ‘My youngest is suffering terribly.’ 

To cut the conversation short, she asked me my name. Gave me hers. Told me she is a yoga teacher and a breath worker who helps children who are suffering from anxiety and low mood. Said that she could work with youngest and help teach him to breathe in a way that would help reduce his anxiety; explain the science behind it. Gave me a way of contacting her. I said I would, that we need help. Thank you. 

I went home and told my son. ‘Let’s try it, mum,’ he said. I found her number online, called, and have made an appointment for next week. 

Thank you, universe, for putting her my way. And thank you for granting me sufficient cash flow to be able to pay to try such a thing. And thank you for the gorgeous, perfect, smooth-skinned package of engaging awesomeness that is my living, breathing, second son. 

Ps I have forgotten my glasses, again, so cannot account for typos and the like herein. Universe, feel free to provide me with something serendipitous to counter my tendency to do this.