Amy’s story

Amy used to be very active, playing hockey, running, swimming, and always being “on the go”. But then in her early thirties she began to experience chronic lower back pain.

“It got to the point where I couldn’t do any of the things that I loved doing any more,” she said.

“I couldn’t run, and it hurt to walk.”

Amy felt as though she were “losing her identity” because of the pain, which is not an uncommon feeling.

Many people remark that it’s impossible to recognise yourself after a while as all your energy is focused on managing pain.

Each day becomes dominated by working out how to cope with the persistent pain, to the point that mundane tasks require enormous effort and planning.

Amy tried visiting physiotherapists, and did two lower back rehabilitation programmes, but nothing seemed to help.

Then she tried working with Mags, and began to move with much less pain.

Now she has returned to being active, and runs, swims and goes to the gym, as well as doing yoga and Pilates.

“I genuinely do not give my back a second thought,” she said.

“I have rediscovered a love of horse riding and gardening, so I get to do all the things that I love to do.”

Amy added that working with Mags has helped her to better understand her pain.

“I’m so grateful for this process, because firstly I am pain free, but secondly, I have a much greater understanding of pain, and that it may be a signal of something else that is going on,” she said.

“To be really able to delve into that and understand that has been the most rewarding part for me in this whole process.”

It has also helped her to reclaim her identity and her overall ability to cope with daily tasks.

With a new understanding of her highly sensitive nature, Amy has ensured she has regular quiet time at work to re-group.

This has allowed her to stay in her job and increase her responsibilities, and she recently accepted a rotation to a new role.

You can watch Amy telling some of her story previously here.

Into the unknown

Do you always go to the same supermarket? I do. The one nearest to me, where I know where absolutely everything is, and have begun to recognise some of the staff members. It makes the weekly shop much easier and faster, as I can find everything easily and know the products well.

But last week, my favourite supermarket was closed. There had been some fault in the building and repair work needed to be done, so I was left to turn elsewhere for my shopping. It sounds ridiculous, but in the humdrum of how much our worlds have shrunk in the past two years, venturing out to a different supermarket almost felt like an adventure. I ended up in a new place, and with a few new types of ingredients and treats to bring home.

It reminded me of the advice I often give to step out of your comfort zone every once in a while. I hadn’t been following it recently and had slipped into routine, in more areas than just which supermarket I was going to. I was finding myself with the same patterns week in week out, of who I was spending time with, what I was doing and where I was going. Breaking out of routine has been especially difficult during the pandemic, as there are limits to how much we can throw caution to the wind and jet off on an adventure.

But I have found it is always worth it if I can break those routines in some way, whether that be choosing a different recipe for dinner, heading off for a walk somewhere nearby that I haven’t been to before, or even taking a different route on a well-trodden walk or car journey. Or, as I discovered last week, switching up where I do my shopping.

Christmas in January

Last week I received a Christmas present in the post, along with a very apologetic note from a friend. She had sent it well in advance in mid December, but come Christmas day it hadn’t arrived. Eventually we got to the bottom of the missing parcel when it was returned to her, and she sent it off again to me. After all this to-ing and fro-ing it’s no surprise that it was almost the end of January by the time it eventually reached me.

My friend was very apologetic, but it turned out to be one of the nicest gifts I received this year. Firstly because of course, a present is a present, and no one should ever need to apologise for giving you wonderful things. But secondly because it arrived in January, in the midst of what often feels like a very long, dark, miserable month.

It always feels as though January drags on forever, and I for one am not sorry to see the end of it. But that belated Christmas present brightened up the final week for me, because of its kindness and also the simple act of a treat being delivered through my door.

February is thankfully not going to drag on quite so long as the previous month, but still even though it is officially spring the cold, dark mornings and evenings will continue for a while. I think my chances of any more delayed Christmas presents are slim, but I have run with the idea and ordered a parcel from a local bookshop to be delivered in a couple of weeks. Now I have something to look forward to, and by the time it arrives there will be just a few more weeks to wait until spring really begins to blossom.

On that note, I spotted more than one clump of snowdrops on a walk over the weekend. A wonderful welcome to spring, and a taster of the good things to come.

Escaping, once in a while

The past two years have brought a lot of challenges, some of which have been devastating, and some more easily overlooked. One thing I’ve noticed beginning to take an increased toll is the lack of options there have been to escape, or “get away from it all”.

Holidays are a blissful luxury many of us may have taken for granted before the pandemic, and since it struck their loss has hardly seemed the most difficult hardship to contend with. But just because they are a luxury doesn’t mean you cannot feel the absence of opportunities to get away.

The current situation has meant a lot of people working harder than ever before, for longer periods of time and without any real break. Sometimes it is not just the time off during a holiday that makes us feel refreshed, but the physical relocation, to somewhere outside your normal area of work and responsibilities.

This may not be possible for a while yet, but recently I have been very much enjoying substitutes on a smaller scale. We have made a habit of taking day trips, choosing a new place an hour or so away and making the trip for a walk, often with a picnic – although these have involved brief stops, warm clothes and hot flasks of tea of late!

I always end up feeling refreshed after one of these trips, and find it wonderful to feel as though I’ve had a bit of an escape from everything, even if not from the weather!

Saying thanks

Some of you might have noticed a few weeks ago that I taught some sessions from a different location. I’m back at home now, but had spent some time visiting friends, before the changes to Covid-19- related restrictions. It was wonderful to finally be able to visit, but after so many months of not being able to I found I had forgotten all the elements that going away entails…. Not least who was going to take care of our four chickens and Freddie the kitten.

Thankfully, one of our children stepped in at the last minute, but the four meals a day required by the collective menagerie was too much for one person, and our kind neighbours were also called on to share the load.

We were overwhelmed at this generosity, especially through reports of Freddie’s “lively” behaviour while we were away. No morsel of food was safe, the rubbish bin had to be defended at all times against vicious attack, and glasses, vases and even tables came crashing to the ground. “You can’t take your eye off him for even a second!” our daughter complained. We smiled to ourselves, reminded of the years of chaos when the children were young.

But far from disowning us over our badly-behaved kitten, we came home to find she had left fresh flowers, milk, bread and cheese to welcome us home. We were very grateful, and hugely enjoyed inviting both her and our neighbours over for dinner to say thank you.

Sometimes saying thank you can be a joy in itself, and it is certainly a joy to be thanked. My children have very fond memories of thanking the postman Tadgh around this time every year. We used to make chocolate caramel squares for him, and while he was always delighted, I’m sure the children enjoyed the experience even more than he did.

It can feel a bit odd giving thanks or gifts to those not expecting them. Sometimes it’s easy to feel embarrassed by this – I know I have more than one card and present sitting in a cupboard somewhere, undelivered due to a nervous wondering whether the other person would think the gesture too much. But, obviously, I was overthinking it. Of course there is a time and a place, but I’ve never yet encountered someone who hasn’t been pleased to receive recognition or a gift.

Lucy's story

It is almost a year since I first met Lucy, in December 2020, and the difference in her is astounding. She had been experiencing chronic pain for five years before she contacted me, but it had only been in the previous year that she had identified it as “chronic pain”, rather than individual issues each requiring separate attention.

She had lower back pain and leg pain, which she felt had previously been “blinding” her. We have worked together over the months, with Lucy leading the process of her recovery. She has delved into reading about TMS/PPD, and has even read the textbook twice!

Lucy told her story in a testimonial video at the beginning of this year, and I have been thrilled to see the further progress she has made since then. It has allowed her to devote more time and thinking space to the activities she enjoys, rather than the pain. She likes walking in nature in her spare time, and has been able to step even further into her role as an artist.

One of Lucy’s pieces

Lucy first discovered art in Transition Year at school, and did a portfolio course with the hope of continuing to art college. In the end she chose the academic route, and studied Art History at UCD. She then studied theatre, media and special effects make-up artistry, and lived and worked in several different countries over the next decade.

She describes being torn between her dream job and her day job, struggling to “allow” herself to be an artist. One day she sat down to her sketch pad and found a new style and expression developing, and along with it a new motivation and inspiration.

Now she creates art around the human form, finding her voice through a minimalist line art style. Based in Kilmacanogue in Co. Wicklow, she has created her own brand, Idir Na Línte. She is motivated by the belief that she can reach other people with her art, and the knowledge that each of her pieces is an expression of a quality, value or emotion that she herself has experienced.

Lucy is offering Resolving Chronic Pain subscribers a discount on her art, found on her website at Idir Na Línte. The 30% discount is active until November 30th, and can be applied at the checkout with the code MAGS30.

Adventuring

I often find the best adventures happen close to home. Be they exciting, exhilarating or downright scary, sometimes you don’t have to venture to the other side of the world to feel like you’ve been on an expedition. I was reminded of this recently when one of my children went on an “adventure” to a neighbouring city – 45 minutes on the train and they spoke of it as if they were visiting Mars for the evening. They were attending a work event, so it was definitely in the “scary” genre of adventure.

I have recently been enjoying reading the autobiography of Sarah Outen, an ‘adventurer’ who around a decade ago travelled around the world under her own steam – by bike, kayak and rowing boat. She has some amazing tales of storms, hurricanes, sharks, bears, and deadly snakes, and her adventure, which lasted almost five years, sounds truly thrilling.

But while I am enjoying the escapism of reading about Sarah’s exotic solo adventures, one passage in particular stood out. Sarah remarks that whenever she is talking to people and making new friends, she often enjoys hearing about their own expeditions and activities. But they often apologise for their tales, saying they are not as exciting as Sarah’s epic trip.

But Sarah disagrees with this view. She writes: “For me, all adventures are created equal, and it is about spirit more than form, about what it does to you rather than how long you go for or how hard other people think it was.

“Stuffing marshmallows into a mug at day’s end while you perch on a log outside your tent feels sweetly blissful whether you are out for a weekend or away for years. In fact, maybe the smaller nuggets are all the more brilliant for their contrast with the rest of your life. In my head, the essence of it all is the same: to strive, to seek, to find, and to have fun while you are out.”

These words resonated with me, as most people do not have the time, money or external support to undertake huge trips like’s Sarah’s. And in the pandemic, even the idea of going on an adventure to another country has become much more out of reach.

Sarah uses the example of spotting a kestrel in a field while walking close to her home as a stunning experience that she will remember for as long as her more exotic encounters on the other side of the world. I can think of similar special and wonderful experiences – at a picnic in a local wood, or over a bonfire on a nearby beach, for example, that have exactly the same effect.

Glass half full

It always feels like a bit of a disappointment when the nights start drawing in. It’s ridiculous, but somehow every year I can’t stifle the hope that the summer might continue just a little longer, that the creeping of the sunsets earlier and earlier might begin to slow. It seems unimaginable that in a few weeks it will be dark by the time I finish work.

Notwithstanding cosy nights by the fire, winter tends to be quite unwelcome in my house. The dark and cold weather can limit outdoor activity, and put a general dampener on everything. But I have to admit that this year I’m almost looking forward to it. As the light began to fade earlier this month I had a brainwave, and decided to come up with some special activity or treat just for winter, which I could look forward to.

I settled on swimming, and have treated myself to a three-month membership of a local pool, which I wouldn’t have done usually or for the whole year. It’s going to be wonderful, and I know I’m going to enjoy being in a warm indoor pool when the temperatures outside begin to drop! It will also be great to get some exercise through the winter, as it can be so tempting just to stay indoors. And while I have great respect for those people who continue swimming in the sea all year round… I don’t think I want to be one of them.

So here’s to winter, and the gradual shortening of the days. We can’t do anything about it, so what are you looking forward to? 

Moving on

A year ago I shared the sad news that we had said goodbye to our beloved cat. Norbert had reached the grand old age of 20, and some of you will remember him from my Pilates studio at home. He used to come along to say hello and sniff all the cars, especially of those who had their own pets.

He was healthy and active right up until the end, and died peacefully on a patch of lawn in the sunshine with us gathered around him. It was the best possible end, and Norbert had had a long and happy life at 20 years old. Nevertheless, while we knew we would want to get another cat at some point, we couldn’t quite bring ourselves to do so immediately.

But a couple of months ago we decided it was time. We missed the warm presence of Norbert sitting on our laps on the sofa, and the loud sound of his purring as he slept. So we put some feelers out and got ourselves a new kitten, who after a rather complicated naming process has been christened Freddie.

I can’t say that Freddie is what we were looking for. There is no sedate presence on the sofa, nor stretched out on the floor for hours on end, as Norbert used to be. Purring noises do not continue throughout the day, as they would when Norbert spent almost all of his time asleep.

Instead, there is a streak of grey zooming through the house and across the garden. There are cups knocked over, cakes gone missing, and whisker-prints in the butter. Freddie can often be found balancing on the garden fence, raising everyone’s blood pressure as he contemplates the perilous drop on one side. Panicked squawking tells us he has managed to breach the gate towards the chicken coop (he enjoys terrorising them but thankfully neither party has so far been harmed).

We have all learned that standing or sitting still for more than five minutes is an instant declaration of war, for which our wrists and ankles will pay. We have also learned to worry when Freddie appears from within the house licking his chops, and not to worry when he disappears for hours on end, and comes home slightly dishevelled and smelling of tree resin.

Freddie’s boundless energy and mischief is a very different presence to that of Norbert, and we suspect it is not solely down to him being a kitten, as none of us remember Norbert causing quite this much trouble. Needless to say, he is universally adored. Getting a new kitten was the best possible decision, and Freddie has managed to firmly capture our hearts with his ridiculous antics.

Should you go to your reunion?

An old friend of mine recently sent me a picture of the pair of us back in our secondary school days, with a reminder about plans for a reunion after the Covid-19 pandemic. My friend was eager to reconnect with classmates long dropped off the radar and rediscover half-remembered gossip and stories. She was excited, but I know many people who refuse to go to any kind of reunion – even when they still live just down the road from the school in question. 

In fact, ‘never go to your school reunion’ is one of the many pieces of advice given by Swiss-born philosopher Alain de Botton. The reason for this, he argues, is that the people you went to school with are the ones you are most similar to in life, in terms of background, age, prospects and of course education. And the more similar you are to someone, the more tempting it is to compare yourself to them, and in turn the easier it is to feel inadequate or jealous of them.

“The closer two people are – in age, in background, in the process of identification – the more there’s a danger of envy,” he said in a TED Talk about success. The reason for this is that we think if one person – perhaps a classmate – has the same upbringing as us, similar interests, a similar college education and a similar age, we believe that if they are now successful and we feel less so, then the reason for that difference is our own fault, rather than chance.

However, this is, of course, completely nonsensical. Quite apart from the fact that success cannot be easily compared from one person to another, and that we never know the realities of a life which looks ‘successful’ on the surface, more of life’s good outcomes are down to chance than anyone really recognises. It may feel as though that classmate has had exactly the same journey as us, but the reality is that there are a hundred different factors leading to that success which we are not aware of.

Alain de Botton explains that the egalitarian idea that anyone can achieve anything is relatively new, and that while it has many positive connotations it also leads to people comparing themselves to others who have had vastly different circumstances, and a huge amount of luck.

“Never before have expectations been so high about what human beings can achieve with their lifespan. We’re told from many sources that anyone can achieve anything […] along with that is a kind of spirit of equality, we’re all basically equal,” he said.

He added: “I think it would be very unusual for anyone here to be envious of the Queen of England. Even though she is much richer than any of you are, and she’s got a very large house, the reason why we don’t envy her is because she’s too weird […] we can’t relate to her, and when you can’t relate to somebody, you don’t envy them.”

Comparing ourselves to others is a natural response, but research shows that people who regularly compare themselves to others are more likely to experience feelings of dissatisfaction, guilt, or remorse, and engage in destructive behaviours.

The advice never to go to your school reunion is tongue-in-cheek and perhaps a bit extreme. Awareness is the key to understanding how a school reunion might bring up mixed feelings, and making sure you focus on the positive – enjoying catching up and re-connecting with old friends, rather than comparing yourself to others.