Featured post

Finding another way

This is a short story that I wrote in a creative meditation session at the start of the new year. It illustrates the challenges I now recog...

Tuesday, 23 June 2015

Bite-size and manageable

I'm learning to break things down to bite-size pieces, the way you can cut up an apple, but you wouldn't want to leave it, because it will go brown and be unappetising.

And what about a bunch of grapes? What about an orange?

What kind of task is it?

I really started changing the way I looked at things when I started buying grapes and split them up into little ceramic bowls, and when I then did the same with my pot of yogurt. I found that I could split up the entire amount into 3, and it would be ready for me when I was hungry.

Taking things out of packets, having them in jars, and being able to see so much more easily how much I had left, has helped me to remember what I needed to buy. It made it visual.

I think that's when I really started to realise that big goals are like a large meal. "When eating an elephant" Creighton Abrams tells us, "take one bite at a time". It struck home then that trying to accomplish the whole goal was impossible, and that I had to learn to break it down.

But I had to learn how to break it down first. Mind mapping helped with that, as well as a number of larger projects at work where I started to see that there was a pattern and that sometimes it was easier to line up a number of tasks and then to make a note of what I wanted to do.

It turned it into a process, where I would do one task, repeat it and find that it consolidated my learning better. I was using my memory, I was getting better at doing things, the way you would if you slice up all the different vegetables that go into a meal before starting to cook. You could slice them all whilst you are cutting things up. It’s more efficient that way. 

And I realise it was more efficient to work through the list, note down the bits that needed changing and them come back and fix, correct, amend, investigate.

I saw myself as the engineer, checking the plane, noting down what needs attention, then going way, getting the tools, the right people and coming back to fix that.

It's changed my mindset; realising that's how I learn and that's how I work best.

I've learned to focus my attention in the right way that works for me. And often through repeating the same action whilst I am doing one set of things, I find that I learn and remember better. And the next time I have done a similar project, I have remembered it, whereas before I didn't really learn from one project to another. It's almost as if I had the memory of a goldfish, and no wonder, there was no way to connect the dots and to see the pattern. I was looking too closely. I had to step back and look at the whole picture.

I had to see the puzzle as finished, before I could start on it, and then step away occasionally to see the gaps. 

Abraham Lincoln used to say, "ask me to cut down a tree in 6 hours and I will spend 4 hours sharpening my axe". I see my brain and my mind as the axe, and I am spending the time to measure twice, cut once, and it has improved the way I approach projects.

I feel so much more able to identify the breaks, so I can pause - the way I do when dancing. I can pause, and hit the breaks, to follow the music and find my rhythm.

Lynn
Dyspraxic Pioneer 


Saturday, 25 April 2015

What else can go?


This morning I had a clear-out. This turned out to be the second part of a clear-out that began on Wednesday evening this week when I spent a good few hours going through my belongings and picked out things to keep, things to recycle, things to donate and things to toss. After a while, the more stuff I cleared out, the more I wanted to clear out.

"What else can go?" became my mantra.

My hallway is now lined with bags, boxes and other worldly goods. To the casual observer stopping by, it might look as if I was packing to move out, when in actual fact I have discovered I am packing to stay.


I'm clearing out everything I no longer need, and making space for me and for new things and new experiences. By letting go of what I no longer need, I free up space to be myself, to be me, to just be Lynn.

Whilst clearing out the clutter, I came to the realisation that the real reason I had put off doing it for so long was because deep down I had this feeling that if I cleared it, it would only return, so why bother? It's not as if clutter is like dirty dishes, it's not as if it's going to pile up, and start to smell and I won't have any plates to eat my dinner. It might gather dust, and be a visual reminder of all the unnecessary and unfinished things in my life, but I can learn to ignore that and tell myself it doesn't bother me (when really it did)

Then I realised that's the equivalent of saying, "I won't pay off my credit card this month because I'll only end up with a credit card statement again." Not if I choose to be conscious and mindful of what I'm spending, not if I choose to pay cash, or to manage my money differently.

But how can I learn to manage my money differently if I have money that I owe the credit card companies, or other financial commitments? If I'm weighed down by this feeling that none of the money I earn is mine to keep?


What if I reminded myself that this is only temporary? That once I have cleared the clutter, I have a choice what I let into my flat, I have a choice not to fill up those empty spaces, perhaps even to leave them clear and free?


And what if by clearing those spaces, I actually leave space for things I want in the future to fill them? What if it almost creates a natural vacuum, where the right things will inevitably be drawn to that space?

And what if those new things will truly reflect who I am now and who I have become?

Lynn

Dyspraxic Pioneer

Sunday, 5 April 2015

Following my intuition


So much has changed in the past year alone, that a little while ago I began to wonder if I was on the right track. 

I hardly recognise the woman I was three years ago, two years ago, or even six months ago. My goals have changed and my interests have evolved. 

Then I realised one evening as I made my way home, that achieving these goals, following my intuition is right. I saw myself as a homing pigeon, making my way Home *.

I think deep down I thought all these new ideas, new ways of working and new ways of seeing the world were taking me away from where I was, but actually then I realised that achieving my goals is moving me forward, that rather than taking me away from home, I am growing.

It reminds me of driving back to my home town of Swakopmund after a holiday away. You'd be driving through the desert, and about 10km outside of Swakopmund you'd hit the fog that spreads inland, and you'd realise you were nearly there. Then you'd see the lighthouse and the buildings and you'd be that little bit closer. 

Not long to go now, nearly Home. 

What if everything we are drawn to doing is actually bringing us closer to Home? Getting over the top of that hill and seeing your destination. It's the equivalent of coming Home. That's where you belong, that's where you fit in and it's that inner voice carrying you home. 

Perhaps we're homing pigeons. Perhaps we don't start out where we're meant to stay. 

Maybe we're placed somewhere and it's up to us to find our way back Home again. And maybe that's why it's starting to make sense. 

Maybe it's where I'm meant to be.

Lynn
Dyspraxic Pioneer 

* "As you live this way, moment by moment, day by day, in perfect time, you will find yourself moving closer and closer to Home. The paradox is that when you stay close to Home, you can go anywhere and do anything without fear." from "Feel the Fear and Do It Anyway" (Susan Jeffers, 1987, Ebury Publishing) 

Tuesday, 27 January 2015

Finding another way

This is a short story that I wrote in a creative meditation session at the start of the new year. It illustrates the challenges I now recognise I faced when I was diagnosed with Dyspraxia/ADD, and the steps I am taking to overcome them every day. I hope it will inspire others who are experiencing similar challenges in their lives.


Finding another way

There once was a girl who wanted to see the world. She lived in a valley with a stream in the shadow of a mountain. Every day she would see the birds flying, soaring higher and higher, up above the clouds. She wandered what it would be like to be a bird, to fly so high with them. But she didn't have wings. How could she join them? 

She thought day after day, watching the birds, feeling lonely and small. She grew tired of her life, unhappy and angry that she had been born without wings. She felt sorry for herself, until one day she decided that if God hadn't given her wings, it didn't mean she couldn't reach the top of the mountain. It just meant that she had to find another way, to work it out for herself and to do it her way. 

So she decided to climb the mountain. If she couldn't fly, and didn't have wings, she could still find a way to reach the top of the mountain, to be with the birds and to see the world from their point of view. So she strapped on her walking boots, said goodbye to her little house, and set off in the direction of the mountain. 

The sun was shining and the air was warm, and she put one foot in front of the other, telling herself "I want to be with the birds, I want to see the world from their point of view. If I take it one step at a time, and walk forward, I will get there."

She walked and walked, one foot in front of the other, ignoring the voice that told her she wouldn't make it. 

"I'm going to make it, watch me and see" she whispered, then spoke, then shouted aloud. Soon she was halfway up the mountain. The voice began again, "Give up, you'll never make it" 

"Oh yes, I will, watch me and see" one foot in front of the other, step by step, one foot in front of the other, she climbed that mountain, all the while telling herself, "I'm going to make it"

Lynn Degele, (January 2015)

Saturday, 25 October 2014

Letting go to grow


Autumn is my favourite time of year. 

The light changes – the sunshine touches everything with golden light, and I suddenly notice the definition of every single leaf because the colours have changed individually for each leaf, and I recognise a change in my perspective.

The days get shorter, so I appreciate the daylight hours more than I do in summer when the days seem endless.

Summer is great, but to me it seems like everything is uniformly green, and I don’t notice any variation in the leaves.

In autumn, I suddenly realise that the leaves have changed, and every tree has its own range of colours, from deep orange to auburn to reds and yellows and browns.

And the trees lose their leaves so that new leaves can grow in spring in the new year.  So, although the tree trunk remains the same, when the leaves fall and new leaves grow, it is not the same tree.* 

I was reminded of this when playing underwater charades with friends in the pool recently - I thought I had blown out all the air in my lungs, and couldn’t understand the reason I wasn’t able to get down to the bottom of the pool. Then I realised that even when I had let go of all the air I *thought* I had, there was still more I could let out.

I had to trust and let go of even more, and then I could float down to the bottom of the pool. And I knew I would get back up to the surface again.

And so it is with my Dyspraxia and ADD, I learned and adopted many ways of doing things and thoughts I believed to live my life. Some of these ways of doing things have been effective; some of them have not been as effective. As I learn about myself, and become more aware of my strengths and my challenges, however, I am evolving new ways to do things more effectively. I change a little every day, just as the leaves on the tree change colour every day.

And come the spring next year, I will no longer be the same tree, and new leaves can grow.

Lynn 
Dyspraxic Pioneer


* In May I wrote a blog piece recognising how I have changed since moving to Oxford, based on Heraclitus's quotation, "No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it's not the same river and he is not the same man". 

If you would like to read it, you can find it along with other posts on my blog, Lynn's Pearls of Wisdom

Thursday, 4 September 2014

Learning to write with my Left Hand


I was officially diagnosed with Dyspraxia and ADD a year ago.

In that year, I have learned a lot about technology, I've learned a lot about my work, but mostly I've learned a lot about myself, and I've gone back to make sense of my life as a whole.
 
And whilst I still "haven't got it all figured out just yet," to quote Alanis Morisettte*, with every day I'm getting "closer to fine"**.
 
In the past year, I've got myself assessed and officially diagnosed. I've applied for and been granted funding and new technology, and every day I'm learning new ways, new strategies, and meeting new people to help me succeed. Part of the learning is sessions with Dyslexia Assessment & Consultancy, a company that specialises in diagnosing and training people with Dyspraxia and Dyslexia, and each time it adds a new piece to the puzzle.
 
In a way, I feel as though I have discovered I am lefthanded after years of writing with my right hand. It feels as though I am now learning to write with my left hand, hence this blog.
 
I injured my right hand recently, and the fact that I actually had voice to text software available, meant that it was an opportunity to familiarise myself with it because it was already in place.
 
So this blog is here to share my insights and my learning and to share my story and to tell people about what's out there. Ever since I was diagnosed, and I started telling people, it's amazing how often people have said "my sister/my uncle/my cousin is Dyslexic/Dyspraxic, is ADD." One friend has even been an amanuensis, and it's opened up doors that were not there before.
 
And whilst I'm still learning to come to terms with it, every day it makes a little more sense. Because really I'm just learning to write with my left hand.
 
Below is the post I wrote about 18 months ago, when I decided to tell people, including my boss. I'm reposting it here because I feel that this is a separate forum, and each of us is a pioneer in our environment. I feel that the other blog(s) that I write, have got their own audience and meaning and that this needs its own space, and room to breathe.
 
Lynn
Dyspraxic Pioneer
  

*Alanis Morisette - "Hand in My Pocket", Alanis Morisette and Glen Ballard, Maverick (1995)
**Indigo Girls - "Closer to Fine", Amy Ray and Emily Saliers, Epic Records (1989)