How I hate the Beast!

Every year, at this time, I fall into a slough of despond. In truth I feel it starts much earlier, with the changing of the season, but it is skilfully disguised by me throwing myself into Christmas ridiculousness. There’s a reason my family get so many presents - apart, of course, from the fact that I love them dearly, I am also distracting myself with the purchase of Christmas pants!

So many presents - ridiculous!

By the end of January, however, seasonal excitement is forgotten and I am truly downhearted.

If I’m honest, it seems worse since I retired. Not because it is, but because I have more time to notice my feelings. I was sufficiently professional to carry on despite my feelings and, provided there were no major crises, turned up and did my job every day. Now I have much more time to navel gaze and over analyse how I am feeling, and how I am feeling is not great.

Experience has taught me that it will pass, and the coming of the Spring will also see the return of some equilibrium in my mood. 

Roll on Spring!

Strangely that doesn’t help for now…and neither does self awareness. I am fully aware that I am thoroughly difficult to live with, snarling, growling and, mostly, sighing. I know that if I got off my, not inconsiderable, backside and spent some time in the garden, baking or going for a walk I would feel so much better but, well, I can’t be bothered! 

Just go for a walk...

I can also acknowledge that I have nothing whatsoever to be miserable about - I have a caring husband, wonderful children, no financial worries and am reasonably fit and healthy. 

Nothing to be down about

But that’s the thing about depression - it doesn’t just choose to inflict itself upon people who have something to be depressed about. It’s a little trick it has to make sufferers feel guilty about feeling that way. It is a cunning beast - there’s a reason it’s been described as a ‘black dog’ - and sometimes it does feel like a living entity.

Honest!

I refuse to be scared of the beast, however, and writing about my feelings is one way of facing it down until normal service is resumed in the Spring! Now excuse me while I go and stare into space, and sigh…

Just saying...

Bless me reader, for I have sinned - it is eight weeks since my last post! To be honest, anything I would usually write at this time of year is mostly related to my issues dealing with shorter days, how much I dislike winter, in spite of my love of cosiness and candles, and how hibernation seems really appealing!

Loving candles...

But I’m not going to write about that!

The dust has now settled after the festive season, and my house is now back to ‘normal’, with the welcome addition of some new nice things, and I have had time to reflect on the past few weeks. We were lucky enough to have a lovely Christmas - visits from family, good food and thoughtful gifts - and lots of happy memories created. 

Glorious plant stand! 

Hare and tea light lanterns!

It struck me that two of the things I enjoyed the most were a visit to my granddaughter’s ballet class and seeing my great niece, perform in professional panto at a local theatre (oh yes she did!) It was completely joyous to watch both these beautiful girls, aged 6 and 8, dance and act. 

She's behind you! 

How lucky they are to have parents that value the performing arts, and have the wherewithal to allow them to do it. It is no coincidence that both their mums danced when they were younger.

My children did not dance, but they did both learn instruments and this gave them a richness in their lives that they wouldn’t otherwise have had. Previous Christmases have seen me proudly watching my son perform the Snowman on his violin, and quietly snivelling as my daughter played ‘Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas’ to me on the piano. Despite my changing finances, following my divorce, I was determined that, whatever happened, I would continue to fund my children’s music lessons, and, to this day, they both have a love of music and playing their instruments.

Still playing their instruments, many many years after this!!

And then I started to wonder about all those children whose parents didn’t dance, didn’t have the benefit of private music lessons, but who would gain so much from the discipline, the concentration, the teamwork that comes from being involved in performing? The answer used to be, of course, that all children would have these opportunities when they went to school. But in these straitened times you don’t have to google for too long to find examples of schools cutting back on their performing arts provision  - not only can they not afford to employ specialist staff, they also feel that they  can no longer afford the curriculum time. There is so much pressure on schools to deliver incremental improvements in maths and english that they are almost scared to do anything else. Before I retired I worked in a class delivering specialist autism provision. I can say now (safe from Ofsted’s reach) that if the curriculum didn’t fit, we pretty much ignored it. 

A vehicle for communication...

We used it as a vehicle to deliver what our students really needed - opportunities to communicate, interact and cope with things not always going to plan (a common occurrence in my classroom!) Our students were so caught up in their own consciousness that, sometimes, our bonkers music sessions were the only thing that they did together. Did it fit the curriculum? Probably not. Did the children benefit? Definitely. Not so sure about the staff - I think they still have nightmares! The point is that sometimes access to something other than a prescriptive curriculum can have untold benefits. 

Watching her friends

There’s a huge amount of maths in music, and watching my granddaughter hanging onto the words of her dance teacher and watching the other dancers made me realise how hard she was concentrating. I found a fascinating article about how a school in Bradford has improved its SATs results by giving its pupils six (yes, six) hours of music a week 

It actually scares me that some of our children, especially those living in socially deprived areas, could grow up experiencing an ever narrowing curriculum and miss out on experiences that could not only support them academically, but also help them to be more rounded individuals as they go through life. 

Just saying…