Caterpillar People

It's hard to believe that the last time I wrote a post was five months ago.

Updating my blog is kind of like updating Facebook, or posting new tweets on Twitter.

If I don't feel like I've got that much to say, then I don't feel like saying much, so I settle for silence.

That said, now I have some news to share with whoever happens to chance upon this blog:

A new article of mine called Caterpillar People, is in the latest issue (Winter issue) of Watkins Mind Body Spirit Magazine. The magazine also contains articles by Ram Dass, Steve Taylor and Lorna Byrne. If you're interested in the MBS field then I'm sure they'll be something for you within its pages.

If you don't have a WHSmiths near you (which is where I found the magazine) and would like to buy a copy, please click on the following link: http://www.watkinsbooks.com/mbs

Just a quick update:

My bereavement book for children is currently being illustrated. Both the illustrator (http://www.lauraskilbeck.com/) and I are really looking forward to the finished product . . . it should be quite special.

The end of the month should see the publication of my new book, Happiness and Honey. It's in a similar vein to my book, The Girl with the Green-Tinted Hair, but focusses on a colony of bees who believe their wings to be useless. It's being published by Rowanvale Books. (http://www.rowanvalebooks.com/index.html).

I'm currently working on my next book which is allowing me to revel in my dark side. It contains elements of witchcraft, suicide and domestic abuse . . . not the usual stuff that comes through in my fiction! It's an exciting process for me, though. I'm discovering a lot about myself as an individual and as a writer.

If you're interested in my first two works of fiction, please follow the link.

http://www.lulu.com/shop/search.ep?type=&keyWords=gavin+whyte&x=0&y=0&sitesearch=lulu.com&q=

Love dogs.

www.gavinwhyte.co.uk

 

What It's All About

A journey is made rich by the experiences we have along the way.

When I go walking, it's always the people I meet, who are strangers 99% of the time, that give it depth and colour.

I enjoy meeting new people at the best of times, but there is something unique and hugely rewarding about conversing with these new faces whilst out walking. Straight away it feels like we have something in common; something that can remain unspoken; something that can only be experienced when out trekking. Because of this unspoken, yet not at all unknown bond, first impressions are usually made up of a smile, a nod, a simple greeting and sometimes a whole conversation may develop.

This is what happened to me yesterday.

I had just entered the gaping mouth of the woodlands, and noticed a man looking up at a tree, standing quite Poirot-like with his hands behind his back.

He didn't have a backpack on, nor was he dressed in outdoor gear. His attire simply consisted of blue jeans, navy blue t-shirt and white trainers.

As I got closer, the snapped branch underfoot got his attention. He smiled at me and continued his walk in my direction.

'This is what it's about,' he said. 'This is what it's all about.'

When something like that is said whilst standing in nature, you don't need to question the meaning. In fact, if you truly understand what has been said, and if the person who said it meant it, silence will surely follow.

And it did.

Two strangers sharing the experience of stillness.

We listened.

We looked.

Connected.

'I don't understand,' he said after a moment or two, 'how people can be cooped up inside. They're stagnating. They're wasting away. They don't know what they're missing when they're sat in front of their TVs and computers. This is why obesity is on the rise. This is nature's gym! And it's free!'

He was right, of course.

Walking in nature isn't just good for you physically, it's also good for you mentally. It alleviates stress and depression. It calms the mind, producing inner space. It boosts creativity and lifts the spirit. After a brief look on the net; studies from 2010 showed that 25%  of obese people are diagnosed with depression.

'People would be generally happier if they spent more time outside doing an activity like walking, than inside doing something like browsing the internet and watching soaps,' said my new friend.

I told him that I have a TV but it doesn't have an aerial, and he smiled.

'I enjoy Springwatch,' he said, looking almost as excited as a child does on Christmas morning. 'I never miss an episode. Now . . . you might not have a TV, but I don't have a computer.'

He began to tell me about how he had recently changed cable companies. 'They gave me something to connect to the internet and then insisted that I plug it in. I told them I didn't have a computer but they didn't understand. They told me to go to their site - this .com that .com - stuff your .com, I said!'

He instantly looked like a rebellious child. 'I can't be bothered with it. You know, even if more people did go for walks, they wouldn't see a thing because their eyes would be glued to their phones and their ears would be only alert to the next text message.'

It's sad, but I think he's right.

I just hope that in time peoples' gaze will rise from their phones, computers and TVs - just once in a while for them to see what it's all about.

There is an unfathomable amount to see - and I don't mean within the TV guide.

www.gavinwhyte.co.uk

The Shadow and the Song

We really are surrounded by the most breathtaking beauty - it's a wonder we get anything done!

The reason why we don't see the opulence of beauty around us, is because we have become numb to it.

All the time, our senses long for more. What is right in front of us isn't good enough.

The Just Mode of Perception is the term I coined a few years ago. It's how the majority of us perceive the world around us.

And it comes about by believing that what we observe, be it a tree, a flower, a cloud, an animal or a person, is the label we attach to it.

I touch upon this in my book, The Girl with the Green-Tinted Hair.

Krishnamurti is known for saying, 'As soon as you teach the child the name of the bird, he will never see that bird again.'

We look at a blackbird and we say, 'It's just a blackbird.' But, as a child, when we first saw a bird we were no doubt amazed. Then someone tells us the name of the nameless thing we were amazed by. 'That's a BIRD.'

So we attach BIRD to this object, which before was without a label. Then when we see another BIRD we say, 'Oh, it's a BIRD.' Then as time goes on, the ornithologist in us might want to know what kind of BIRD it is. 'What bird is that?' you ask. 'That's a blackbird,' you're told.

Then the inevitable happens; the next time you see a BLACKBIRD you say, 'It's just a blackbird, I want to see something else now.'

Magic and wonder - gone.

If we become conscious of this pattern of perceiving the world, straight away it starts to undo itself. And as soon as that happens the light of immense beauty begins to scintillate around us once again.

I'm not saying labels are wrong or bad. They're very useful for communicating. It's how we differentiate between a tree and an ant, for instance - we describe the different characteristics. But what has happened is that we have formulated a habit of believing the object is the label we attach to it.

Labelling has always been a method for separating this from that.

It's not a tool to know what something is.   

A few days ago I was on my delivery and I heard a blackbird sing, but my perception of it changed instantly. It changed so that I didn't actually hear the blackbird sing. I don't know what I heard. But I can tell you how it felt when I heard the unknown: it was like nothing I had ever heard before. It flowed so smoothly and dipped and dived and swept and curled - and it did none of those things! Because it just was.

Then instantly a pigeon flew overhead and splashed its shadow on the pavement in front of me. The whole process, but this time with my eyes, not my ears, started all over again. I saw the shadow of the pigeon but I didn't see the shadow of the pigeon. It just was. And because I observed it without a label what I perceived was breathtaking.

Simple, day to day, occurrences, and with a flick of a switch their real identity - which will always remain unknown - becomes known.

You can't beat a good-old Zen paradox.

www.gavinwhyte.co.uk

Break that Damn Dam!

My last post was about the benefits of smiling. Well, I think this entry is also heading in that direction.

The other day, whilst on my delivery, I got talking to a lady who was doing a bit of gardening. It was a beautiful day, the second one in a row, and I was preparing my daily weather comment, such as:

• Nice day today
• Don't hold you breath, it might snow next week!

And then I prepare to hear in return:

• What a job you have in this weather
• A great day for posties!

But as I got closer to this lady, she stood up straight, wiped her brow on the back of her garden glove and simply said, 'I have one question for you . . . are you nice to your parents?'

I was a bit taken aback. All my weather replies were useless.

'Yes, I am,' I said. 'Why do you ask?'

'I thought you would be,' she said, smiling. 'You see, our son is a consultant. We put him through all the education he needed, but he doesn't want anything to do with us now.'

I know this is only one side of the story, but honestly, if you were to meet this lady and her husband, you would instantly want to be their friend. They come across as genuinely nice people, really warm and caring . . . and they're always smiling and willing to talk.

Don't you think life is too short to hold grudges?

I personally feel tainted when I hold a grudge, as if I've created a ball of tension in my mind. It clouds my senses, making me numb to life and it's breathtaking expression.

So much time is wasted when we're unwilling to move on from past hurts. I know the deeper the wound the longer it takes to heal, but come on, people - LIFE, HERE ON EARTH, IS GONE IN AN INSTANT.

Unwilling to forgive someone for their past actions (or reactions) keeps you in that space and time when whatever it was occurred. You can't move on from it. It's like you've built your own mental dam; it prevents your life from flowing with ease.

How much regret one must have when the person (a member of our family, a friend etc) who we have issues with, who we've given the silent treatment for months or years, suddenly dies. (How do you feel about the permanent silent treatment now?) Surely then, when they've died, it must hit home that the only person who suffers for holding the grudge, unwilling to forgive, is the one who is holding the grudge and unwilling to forgive.  

I'm sure it was the Buddha who said this (I apologies if it wasn't . . .) 'Holding onto anger is like holding onto a hot stone with only the intention of throwing it at someone. You are the one who ultimately gets burnt.'

And the same applies to grudges.

If you hold a grudge, if you're unwilling to forgive someone, then it is you who suffers. The grudge is within you, and so is the resentment, the hatred, the anger and the frustration - it's all there in you, poisoning your body and your mind, making you blind to the wonders of life that forever surround you.

Therefore, it is true that forgiveness is a selfish act, but that's fine, right? We can live with that. By forgiving, you're not letting the person off the hook, you're letting yourself off the hook.

How sad it is when people go through life blinded by their grief and their hatred for certain individuals. They have no idea (because surely they wouldn't do it if they did) of the damage they are causing themselves.
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The lady then said, 'I've been telling everyone about my postman, and how he's always smiling and happy.'

One of the reasons why I'm always smiling and happy is that I forgive . . . I forgive others . . . and this is an important one - I forgive myself for any past actions that may have caused pain to others.

I know it's hard to forgive some people for the things they do and say. You only have to tune into the news to see how hard it must be to forgive people for the atrocities they commit. But when we choose not to forgive, we choose to suffer. And the last thing we want for ourselves when going through a tough time is more suffering . . . self-inflicted suffering at that.

Breaking Down Your Mental Dam

In your mind, picture the person who you find it hard to forgive.

See them standing before you.

Smile at them. (Try! Notice how it feels)

And say, 'Thank you, but I'm letting you go now. I'm taking my life back.'

And then make the image of them get smaller and smaller until it vanishes.

Take a few deep breaths and smile.

Notice how it feels to be back in control of your life? The burden as been lifted. If you don't feel like it has, then keep doing the exercise until the burden begins to feel lighter until eventually it vanishes.

You're in control - break that damn dam!

www.gavinwhyte.co.uk

Teeny Tiny Smile . . . and Dolphins

I was talking to an elderly lady about diet and eating habits.

'Little and often,' she said.

It's advice I've heard before.

After a quick search on the net, I came across an article from the Daily Mail:

'Grazing was the way our body was designed to eat,' says nutritionist Antony Haynes. 'Large meals burden the digestive system, often causing bloating and lowered energy while the body struggles to digest them.

'By eating smaller meals you prevent this, and the body functions more efficiently throughout the day.' When we eat a big meal, the sugar level in our blood rises, but once that meal is digested that blood sugar level falls, taking your energy and mood with it.

The problem is, the bigger the meal, the bigger the crash - and the higher your need for sugary snacks to refuel your body.

'The regular influx of food with a little-and-often approach keeps your energy level stable and makes it easier for you to cope with everything you have to do in a day,' says nutritionist Natalie Savona.

Interesting.

So that's our food intake, but then I thought, why not practise little and often with smiling?

Back to the net. Ten facts about the benefits of smiling:

1. Smiling makes us attractive

2. Smiling changes our mood

3. Smiling is contagious

4. Smiling relieves stress

5. Smiling boosts your immune system

6. Smiling lowers your blood pressure

7. Smiling releases endorphins, natural painkillers and serotonin

8. Smiling lifts the face and makes you look younger

9. Smiling makes you seem successful

10. Smiling helps you stay positive

(You can read the entire article here: http://longevity.about.com/od/lifelongbeauty/tp/smiling.htm)

I think they were clutching at straws with a few of these pointers, but you get the gist - smiling is good for you.

So back to the little and often technique. You don't have to paste a massive grin on your face to gain the health benefits of smiling. 

Right now, do the smallest smile you can manage.

The teeniest, tiniest smile you have ever done that it almost can't be seen on your face.

And this is the important part: listen to your body.

What does it feel like?

Because if you're anything like me, it feels great. I can feel something comforting starting in my stomach and working its way around. Maybe it's those good 'dolphins' that are released every time we smile (point number 7 above). They go swimming around, soothing everything they come across.

So if we practise doing this tiny smile throughout our day, we're going to feel great from the inside out. 

We don't have to give the world a huge Cheshire Cat grin to show that we're happy, to give off good vibes, to improve our state of mind, or to appear attractive. 

Little and Often.

Try it and see if it makes a difference to your day.

You might find that the things which would normally irritate you, suddenly don't have an impact. Or the things that would normally cause stress (traffic jams, deadlines) simply roll of your shoulders.

'You seem very calm today,' a work colleague might say. 

They've no idea that you've got a teeny, tiny smile working its magic, and dolphins in your belly.

www.gavinwhyte.co.uk

 

SMILE : )

Later Life

On my most recent post I mentioned the walk I did in Almondbury.

What I didn't mention was the elderly gentleman I came across on entering Molly Carr Wood. With walking stick in hand and wearing a flat cap, green waterproof jacket, green rucksack, walking boots, waistcoat and a tie, he smiled at me and said good morning.

After the small talk about the weather, I asked him about his travels.

'I try and do this walk every Sunday,' he said, looking at me through his thick framed glasses.

Snot was slowly running down to meet his top lip.

'Whereabouts do you go?' I asked.

'I live in Almondbury,' he said, wiping his nose with the back of his hand (I instantly tried to remember not to shake his hand when saying our farewell), 'so from here I walk to Holmfirth.'

I was impressed. That's a bit of a hike for anyone and this guy was easily in his seventies.

'Once I'm in Holmfirth,' he continued, 'I call at the pub for a sandwich and a drink, and play dominoes with the lads.'

I smiled thinking about the bond him and his buddies must have formed over the years. There's something very pleasurable about seeing a group of old men having a good time together; all sat around the table playing dominoes or cards; packet of crisps split open on the table for anyone to help themselves. Some of them have pints, others have halfs. They don't talk about their past nor future, they just enjoy the privilege of being in the stages of later life.

I'm suddenly getting flashbacks of Last of the Summer Wine.

Then he said, 'Well, technically there's no dominoes team any more. They've all popped their clogs, one by one.'

'Oh really?' I said.

(What else could I say?!)

He nodded. 'Two of them were only in their sixties. They retired and then a few months later, they died.'

'Some people live to work,' I said. 'Working becomes their sole purpose in life and when that gets taken away, so does the meaning of their life.'

'Ay, lad,' he said, looking over the landscape of Huddersfield that lay before us.

'We're not here for long,' I said.

He laughed. 'We've got to make the most of what we have,' he said. 'Who knows what's round the corner.'

On that note we thanked one another for our mini conversation and said our goodbyes.

I didn't shake his hand.

www.gavinwhyte.co.uk

   

Walking and The Reason I Don't Eat Lamb

Going for a walk in the countryside is undoubtedly good for you. It's known to alleviate depression and stress, calming both body and mind, and it's a good source of exercise too. 

Being a creature of habit, I'm known to walk around the same area on a regular basis. Some take the micky, saying it's (or I'm) boring, but I beg to differ. It all boils down to perception.

There's something very comforting about seeing the same scenery, touching the same trees, walking along the same paths, and stepping over the same stiles. It forces me to play a game of spot the difference. Every time I walk the same route I notice alterations. It's never the same. Every day is a blank canvas allowing nature to play with her colours and sounds.

What makes a good walk is not necessarily where you walk, but how you walk where you walk.

If your head is full of concerns and worries then even during a beautiful spring morning, with a pool of blue sky up above and a blanket of blue bells below, you're going to walk as if these amazing spectacles don't even exist.

If you're mood is lighter and your mind calmer, if you walk with a spring in your step with no concern for keeping time, then your senses are going to be more alert, allowing you to absorb more of what's on offer.

And there's a lot on offer.

Making an effort to open your senses makes you more receptive. Sounds become sharper. Colours scintillate like crystals, all because you opened the doors to your senses, which naturally then turns down the volume of your mental chit-chatter. This then leads to a sense of tranquillity and well-being, alleviating stress, anxiety and depression - it's great!

By investing your time in nature, nature will invest her time in you, resulting in experiences that will leave you smiling and speechless. You will be rewarded with bountiful gifts that you're thinking mind can't even begin to comprehend.

This morning, at 7:30am, I set off walking on my favourite circuit in Almondbury, Huddersfield. I reached the summit of one of the many fields and sat on a bench to breathe deep and be present. I got out my flask and poured myself some warm ginger tea and began to nibble on some mixed nuts and raisins I had brought. I dug out my book and began to read as the sun made the pages glow.

Then I heard something stumble behind me.

An unexpected visitor, but one I was surely grateful for.

www.gavinwhyte.co.uk