Where words fail, music speaks.

A Hans Christian Andersen quote for you - let it never be said that I settle for predictable post titles!

I've been meaning to write a post about music as a form of relief for quite some time but I could never find a frame in which to discuss it. Music is what it is, after all. It's often a deeply personal experience and so it can be difficult to define to another what a particular piece can make you feel.

I attended a concert I was busy getting excited about in my New Year post last week, and this crystallised exactly what I've been wanting to say.

Music is a relief because it can be a complete emotional catharsis when you find the right pieces and songs.

The concert was Trans-Siberian Orchestra, in only their second ever show on British shores. In 2011 they graced London with their Beethoven's Last Night show, and this time they were returning for two dates with a "never before seen Europe-only show" which promised to reunite elements of the band's past, present and future.

(Granted this is at a much bigger show in the USA, but I'm sure you get the gist...

Image from blogs.tennessean.com)

For those unfamiliar, TSO's past is most notably the heavy metal band Savatage, who have remained on permanent hiatus since their final summer festival appearances in 2002. The partner in crime and I spent most of our journey over to Manchester trading off which Savatage songs we thought would be played - whilst I love the Savatage I've heard, I'm not so well versed as he is as my first love is given to the TSO project. At heart I'm anyone's for big silly stage musical-esque goings-on. We were also meeting friends there, so it had all the makings of a very enjoyable night.

In describing exactly what TSO is I come up against some difficulty. Put as simply as possible it's a five piece rock band, a lead violin virtuoso, an orchestra and a choir of exceptional singers most of whom also take solo spots during the show and wouldn't be out of place on the West End or Broadway (where some have actually performed). There's also a narrator in the form of the wonderful Bryan Hicks, and it's all performed in the manner of an Andrew Lloyd Webber musical. Oh, and there's classical pieces played as a mixture of the band and the orchestra. And pyrotechnics. And lasers.

They provide the perfect example of catharsis for me. It was fortunately or unfortunately dependent on view point a fully seated gig, although not without plenty of attempts by the band to get everybody on their feet. Some of the Savatage lends itself to nothing better than hair-whirling dancing, while plenty more of both theirs and TSO's back catalogue calls for singing along at the top of your lungs. At the other end of the scale was the heart-rending ballad Believe, performed with astonishing emotion by Robin Borneman. That marked the point in the night when both myself and Alex were reduced to tears.

He'll tell you the room was full of sand and someone in the row in front was chopping onions, but you should never believe anything he says!

(Robin "You-don't-need-those-heartstrings-anyway" Borneman, making Believe just that little bit more magical for me at least. Image from Youtube.com)

After that potent mixture of emotion throughout the night I felt almost scoured clean and completely drained, but in a rather more wonderful way than I would usually mean with that word. Seeing Bruce Springsteen (a childhood dream) in the summer of 2012 was a similar experience, as was watching Les Miserables in the West End for my eighteenth birthday.

That's the ultimate power of music for me - or a mixture of music and words in the case of songs - in the hands of the skilled it shines and can touch most everyone in some way, be it big or small. What's not to love about that?

On that note, without realising I've been slowly collecting a bunch of songs together over the last few years into a playlist on Youtube. I stick it on in the background when I'm writing for TRB, pulling admin duty for the brilliant Chronic Illness Cat page or just generally mucking about doing anything on the computer or in its near vicinity. I won't list everything in it, as it currently stands at 66 videos, but without consciously deciding to I've essentially put together my own emotional range of songs and I'll give a taster below.

• Objects in the Rear View Mirror May Appear Closer Than They Are - Meat Loaf

Score one for the "tears" category. I don't mean it makes me sob every time, but it's just in that area of emotion. More a close-eyes-and-listen song. 

• Nord Mead - Miracle of Sound

Because everyone wants to be a Companion, "drinking mead in the halls of Whiterun". A silly offering from Miracle of Sound inspired by Skyrim - I actually tend to stop and watch the video for this one, just for the bloke at the beginning dancing about next to the dragon skeleton. If you're a Skyrim fan, I highly recommend this as a bit of fun.

• Gutter Ballet (live, from Ghost in the Ruins) - Savatage

Because it's wonderful, that's why. Score for the "Oh dear lord this is ridiculous" category.

•  Carmina Burana - Trans-Siberian Orchestra

You didn't seriously think they wouldn't make the list did you? Carmina Burana, possibly more easily recognised as the O Fortuna chorus, and one of my favourite pieces of music ever written.

• Icewind Dale Main Theme, Skyrim "Dragonborn" Theme - Jeremy Soule

Both excellent games and both pieces of music I love - what a pleasant combination. 

• We Take Care of Our Own, Born to Run (Live in Madison Square Gardens) - Bruce Springsteen (and the E Street Band)

If you need me to explain why, you haven't been paying attention to the rest of this blog. Correct this immediately!

• Into the West (The Return of the King OST) - Annie Lennox

Tears. I don't care a bit.

• Jerusalem - Bruce Dickinson

A stop, close eyes, and if alone belt out at the top of my lungs sort of a song (so potentially draining in more ways than one!)

• Nessun Dorma (live) - Russell Watson

I don't like everything Mr Watson sings, and obviously it' not the definitive version, but it's a beautiful song and a rather cracking version in my opinion. 

• Time to Say Goodbye (live at London's Colosseum) - Il Divo

Because I gave up having any sort of street cred a very long time ago. It's another of those songs that if I'm in the right mood and can make me well up a little.

• Fighting Trousers - Professor Elemental

I actually don't like your tweed Sir, as it happens. Perfect when I'm in need of a good giggle. 

I recommend this, if music is something you find relief in. Find the songs that make you laugh, the ones that make you cry, pieces of music that make your soul soar even if you don't know why, and the odd thing that just makes you stop and think. Stick them all together, press shuffle and enjoy!

In further music related tomfoolery, I'm slowly teaching myself to sing. Slowly. The ability as it turns out has probably always been there, it's just never had any work put into it as I have spent many years soundly convinced by others that I was hopeless. With some kind reassurance that I am in fact not so, I'm getting there. Let's call it my pet project for this year. 

My main problem at the moment is letting go of my inhibition to sing loudly enough to not fall slightly flat of the notes. It's getting better, and I'm beginning to find where my voice comfortably sits, although I'll be damned if I give up practising to the likes of Kamelot and Serenity just for the sheer fun of it. I'm currently teaching myself Nightwish's Eva, for those who know it. 

The point that I've come to realise is that you don't actually need to be a good singer to enjoy the release of singing along to your favourite pieces, and whoever can hear you can go whistle. I'm finding that singing, rather like dancing, is an incredible release of any pent up emotion and perfect for de-stressing. You don't need to be hugely talented in order to enjoy that release, and you don't owe it to anyone to meet an invisible standard.

And don't let anyone ever tell you otherwise. 

Does anyone else have specific "go to" music, or do you use music as a form of relief in any way?

Wishing you all many spoons xxx

Hips Don't Lie

I thought a follow up to Shut Up and Dance was in order now that I’ve been using the workout DVDs for a couple of months. I appreciate exercise is not the answer and indeed not even an option for everyone, but for those who are interested and able a bit of a first hand review can’t hurt.

To set the scene a little, I took a tumble from a horse aged 13 which did some fairly extensive damage to the muscles in my back, and despite being just about fully recovered I never regained previous levels of flexibility. I also have a twisted pelvis - I always rode with uneven stirrups to compensate for the fact my left hip at rest is naturally somewhat in front of my right. It isn't particularly visible and can only really be spotted if I’m lying on my front, in which it becomes obvious that my right hip doesn’t touch the surface I’m lying on.

All in all I haven’t had particularly fluid hip movement for some years and my flexibility is patchy to say the least. Dance therefore does not come all that naturally, not in the least bit helped by the fact I’m easily confused if my feet have to do something entirely separate to my hands and arms.

You only have to bear witness to how many times I walk into things to be assured that coordination is not my strong suit. It turns out that even the rather strong deterrent of severe allodynia cannot help me to be spatially aware of the furniture; in answer to the usual question yes, it is indeed more than big enough to see. Go away with your logic.

(www.hangbag.com)

I picked up the two Strictly Come Dancing exercise DVDs directly from the BBC website for £8.99. Amazon and elsewhere sell them separately for about £5 each.

So, in starting out I swiftly found that if you’ve never done any sort of formal dancing before, then of the two DVDs Flavia Cacace and Kelly Brook’s one is probably going to be the best one to start with. Naturally not knowing this I did it the other way round and swiftly stared my own towering ineptitude in the face. Not to be deterred I kept going for a few weeks with the other DVD (Karen Hardy and Erin Boag) and managed to get three of the five routines into rough shape (cha cha, salsa and jive). Flavia and Kelly’s DVD has clearly been tailored more with non-dancers in mind and in treading the line between aerobics and dance probably falls slightly in favour of the former.

A key point – make sure you have plenty of room. Our living room and kitchen are open plan and so I have the width if not quite the length (Must. Learn. To. Take. Smaller. Steps.)

Is it working? Very much so. It’s a much higher cardio workout than you might think and really does move everything – which is why it’s important to do the warm up and cool down routines, a fact reiterated several times by the dancers and in a recorded disclaimer before the menu screen loads. It was extremely daunting at first but now the steps are starting to make more sense (even sometimes with accompanying arm movements!) and I can remember enough to drop the instructional element most of the time.

(Don't be fooled by the butter wouldn't melt expression....)

One thing I discovered relatively early on – do not have your cat in the room when jiving on pain of near certain death. You’d think after thirteen years of watching me bump into and fall over everything in reach Misty would be wise to the fact that me balanced and levering up and down on the ball of one foot whilst kicking backwards at waist height with the other is far too precarious a situation to venture close.  Feline logic clearly leaves a lot to be desired and the situation ended with me in a heap on the floor tangled with the cat, who then proceeded to walk all over me wearing a “This is entirely your fault!” expression.

Pleasantly my flexibility is also improving a fair bit, including my hips which now occasionally manage normal human function. A secondary concern though it may be for me in terms of exercise, I can’t complain that jeans I bought fairly recently are starting to be a little roomier too.

The biggest recommendation I can give though is that it makes me smile. Having never danced like so many of my contemporaries as a child, I didn't expect to pick it up with ease. More surprising still was just how much I enjoy it. The dancers on both DVDs call salsa “feel good” and it really truly is.

And then there’s the music. I’m not generally a fan of pop music, but the tracks for all the workouts are brilliant choices to suit the dance routines. I never thought I’d find myself writing in praise of Black Eyed Peas and Shakira, but credit where it’s due – they’re brilliant songs to dance to.

All in all I’m really pleased with finding these DVDs. I can foresee this taking quite some time to start feeling stale (despite my doing the workouts about three times a week) and I’m so pleased to find that the potential for flexibility and full movement was there in my joints after all, they just needed the right exercise to encourage it.

Hips Don’t Lie, eh Shakira? It appears mine do.

(What I lack in technique I make up for with enthusiasm!)

Wishing you many spoons xxx

Unpretty

I’ve said numerous times on TRB that the blog has not only been cathartic and a chance to explore what I’m thinking, but more importantly it has been a vehicle allowing me to challenge those thoughts and habits of mind. What could be more challenging than to think of reasons to say “thank you” to my tempestuous lodger?

When suddenly faced with something all-consuming and unexpected like an incurable health condition, people mostly split into one of two camps with their behaviour – they either succumb to despair, guilt and feelings of betrayal and indeed risk becoming consumed, or they grit their teeth, shake their fists and say “sod you”.

Sometimes people do both, one after the other, which is what I did. I then repeated the process a year later after receiving a diagnosis, because once the joy of assurance that things aren’t all in your head wears off you then come face to face with “I have what? What do you mean you can’t make it stop?”

There’s a saying that for every door which shuts in your life due to circumstances, another will open. I don’t see affliction with chronic ill health to fall outside of that observation; it’s just admittedly harder to see how it fits, particularly at first when you’re still trying to figure out how exhaustion, pain and cognitive dysfunction can be made to fit into normal human function. “Square pegs in round holes” makes a pleasing metaphor for this.

I found that life was very organically brought into sharper focus. Suddenly I could see an array of things which had occupied my mind or caused me to fret and worry which were wholly inconsequential. They might have felt less than trivial at the time, but faced with something far more important to be dealt with on a daily basis you soon learn what is and isn’t worth getting angry or upset about. I am by nature very sensitive, but even so I’ve begun slowly to temper that with a sense of “Is this worth possibly having a flare up?”

(Sometimes even I have to laugh at how British I am. Image from www.panicposters.com)

One such triviality was the insecurity I carried over physical appearance. I always felt it was trivial, that there were far more important qualities to not only me but every other individual, but for one reason and another I could never quite make that philosophy stick in the face of the voice in my head who liked reminding me of all the possible (and probably a few imaginary) flaws.

I was an awfully unattractive teenager, and I’m not just being self-deprecating with that either. I had masses of frizzy hair, bug-eyed spectacles, a reasonably pronounced overbite followed by braces and neither a clue about nor any interest at all in fashion, makeup and such things. By around 21 I’d discovered layering, shed the braces and stumbled upon the wonderful inventions of thinned lenses and contacts so I looked far less like a buck-toothed electrocuted insect and a bit more like a human being.

I then fell in with what turned out to be a toxic group of people (toxic for me, at least) whose whole group dynamic and chief concern lay in one’s looks. You were either flavour of the month and hovering above the virtual cesspit of insecurity, jealousy and cattiness below or you were deemed unworthy, based on nothing more than your own physical appearance and whether you were prepared to do homage to the current favourite.

Thanks all the same, but no. All of that (I can see now in hindsight, perfect 20:20 as ever) seemed to grind any progress I might have made towards accepting the triviality of my worries to a deathly halt.

So my first reason for gratitude is that with Petunia to cope with and work around, I neither had the time or the energy to care about something so frankly unimportant in the grand scheme of things.

I still have days where I feel like something Misty threw up on the carpet, and whatever may be muttered about vanity and shallowness I still enjoy dressing up to go out. I don’t use makeup on a day to day basis so it has become reserved to a part of the routine of getting dolled up to do something special. I’ve recently been investigating buying a foundation for the first time because Miss P seems determined to make me look more and more like a Uakari monkey when she’s acting the goat, but it will be something I keep for sparing use just to give me a bit of a boost of confidence if I am going out.

(Blog post may contain liberal doses of sarcasm and exaggeration. Image from pixdaus.com)

The exercise routine has really helped with this too. Whilst a lot of people’s chief concern is how much they weigh and focus on the need to shift pounds to achieve a slimmer shape, I’m far more interested in what the exercise and a healthy diet are allowing my body to achieve. I’ll be discussing the effects of the dance workout I started in an upcoming post, but what I’m enjoying more than any visible shape change is the increase of flexibility, strength and fullness of movement in joints and muscles which have been stiff, weak and sore for some time. They’re still stiff, weak and sore a lot of the time but the difference is phenomenal.

For example having full movement in my hips after years of limitation is a great deal more interesting than how wide they are, and being able to make use of my core in a new and more effective way is far more important than what a measuring tape says about my waist. I can’t do anything about the skin reaction and wouldn't want to use makeup to cover it up every day, but in a way it’s evidence that my body’s still trying its best and I can make peace with that.

What my body looks like is never, ever again going to take centre stage in the face of what it is physically capable of and the work I can put in to improve this and to help it deal with my damaged immune system.

So Petunia? You came, you saw, but instead of wholly conquering you helped out a bit too.

Thanks. As you’re sticking around, shall we see what else we can do?

I plan to make this post the beginning of a series, as I’m slowly finding new ways to look at my situation. Can you relate to this, and do you have any gratitude of your own for the way your life has changed? I’d love to hear it.

Wishing you many spoons xxx

Shut Up and Dance

(Aerosmith – well why not, I seem to spend enough post titles working through my music collection as it is. Image from wemustobey.wordpress.com) 

For the past few months I've been searching about for another form of exercise I can take up. I always hoped to return to pole dancing for example, but I particularly wanted something much more cardio based – Pilates is wonderful for flexibility and core strength, but it’s not the sort of exercise that lends itself to raising the heart rate.

The pole dancing scenario is looking unlikely – the most promising centre holds a class too late in the week. It’s becoming apparent since I’ve returned to full time work that I have absolutely no hope of doing anything highly physical beyond about midway through Wednesday – I’m simply far too tired and could well cause the first instance of falling flat on your face off the pole because you’ve gone to sleep.

The other two centres I found are problematic too – one books on a monthly basis to guarantee space at the weekly class of your choice and that’s no good for me with my unreliable health, and the final option whilst holding classes earlier in the week sells it all wrong for the way I think about it.

To give some background, SwanseaUniversity has recently banned its pole dancing society because of “inextricable links to the idea of strip clubs and objectification”. So once again a narrow-minded few spoil something for the majority. Pole dancing is often illegitimised as a form of exercise because of attitudes like the one quoted above – but exercise is entirely what it is. It requires strength and skill to accomplish well and provides a challenging whole body workout which builds muscle tone, flexibility and fitness.

The objectification point is rendered utterly ridiculous when you consider that the vast majority of classes do not allow spectators – so who’s doing the objectifying exactly? The third centre sells the sport via the website as all about ”looking sexy”. Whilst I wouldn’t wish to belittle those who choose to participate for this fact – each to their own, after all – given my thoughts about the way pole dancing is portrayed I don’t feel I can really put my money into an enterprise which is for better or worse going along with the potentially damaging stereotype.

I then started to look around into other dance classes in the area and mostly came up against the same too late in the week issue. The couple which didn’t fall into that category are either a pain to get to because of lack of parking facilities (dear old historic Jorvik hasn’t really accepted the car yet) or they’re a long walk away.

I like a walk as much as the next person, but it brings me neatly round to the main point of this post. Walking to an exercise class of any kind involves going out in the cold.

Yes I know, it’s nearly winter and generally speaking cold happens in winter. What exactly was I expecting?

(The only Cold Winter Night which is acceptable to me any more!
Image from wikipedia.org)

The problem is that no matter how well I wrap up if I go out in the cold, I get cold. Cold equals pain, soreness and overwhelming tiredness. No matter what good the physical exercise of the class would do, it would on balance probably be undone by the getting there and back.

Back to exercise DVDs I go.

It struck me on coming to this conclusion that I had been subconsciously avoiding this pretty inevitable end. Why though? I already use one (or the basis of it) regularly, so what harm would using another do?

I find there’s something of an assumption in the realms of health and fitness that exercising in your own home is cheating and showing lack of committment. You’re not going to a gym or a fitness class, you’re not going out running in all weathers, you’re not using a personal trainer so that means you’re not trying.

Essentially, do it one way or you’re doing it wrong.

Anybody else getting a sensation of déjà vu from "I'm not like you and I don't wanna be..."?

What I realised was I’d basically been telling myself this for a long time. Sure, I could carry on doing Pilates at home, but if I was going to do something else then a rather insidious little voice kept repeating “Stop being lazy, go to a class, meet people, be sociable!”

I know. I have Fibromyalgia, work full time and walk there and back each day, do a workout three times a week and yet I was still telling myself I was being lazy. When you put that next to the poor souls afflicted with FM to the point they can’t always make it out of bed, I look and feel a prize idiot. As for the sociable point – my lack of any sort of grace and particular skills in the clumsy department don’t lend to me being particularly comfortable with the idea.

In truth I don’t think there is a “right” way with exercise, except the way that’s right for you and your circumstances. It’s the same with diet – we all know some things are healthier than others and that other things are bad for us, but in the realm of chronic ill health where you have a myriad of diet restrictions, energy deficiencies, overwhelming fatigue and in some cases excruciating pain, these clear lines become much hazier and more difficult to see.

For me, it’s much wiser to stay inside and do whatever exercise I can there, because that way I don’t have to go out and get cold and I can turn the central heating up to whatever hilariously high level I like whilst I do so. 

After looking around and much reading of various reviews, I decided on the Strictly Dance workouts.

(Strictly Come Dancing minus all the clichés, made-up stories and excruciating attempts to be funny… This has merit!

Image from www.parentingwithouttears.com)

They’re all reviewed as being fast paced and difficult when you start out. My other half has just bought himself a tablet and is making full use of Instagram, so I can just about promise with certainty that when I inevitably knock myself out and end up in a heap on the floor there’ll be photographic evidence.

If I’m feeling generous, I may even share it with you all.

Wishing you all many spoons xxx