The view on my way to work as I walk through Canary Wharf. Starting the year as I mean to go on. New job, new horizons and new possibilities. “The beginning is the most important part of the work.” Plato.
“Challenges are gifts that force us to search for a new center of gravity. Don’t fight them. Just find a new way to stand.” Oprah Winfrey
Started the festive season at the weekend 🎄shared mulled wine with a new friend and wandered through a Christmas market on the way home. Mulled wine recipes vary. Here’s a good one – https://verygoodcook.com/recipes/mulled-wine
I’m a student occupational therapist in my final year. I started at Brunel in September 2019 and I’m hoping to graduate in July 2022. I remember being interviewed by Carolyn Dunford and one of the questions she posed was, how would you define occupational therapy? I said something about recovery and rehabilitation, and I think I mentioned wellbeing. I’ve since learned that occupational therapy is a complex universe. It has a rich history, the practice is worldwide and it’s rooted in everyday life.
RCOT has specialist sections for OTs working in specific areas (listed above). I’ve joined the mental health section and I plan to expand as I gain more experience. In the meantime, I’m hoping to take a break after graduation, assuming all goes well over the next few months – I have one more practice placement to complete. Once that’s done, it’s time to celebrate.
Working through the course has been a long haul – everything was affected by the covid lockdowns. Teaching went online and I remember sitting in my living room to take exams. My mental health relapsed and it took a long while to claw my way out of the dark. Thankfully, I was well supported by my family, friends and local CMHT. My care coordinator happens to be an OT and she’s been amazing at setting me on the road to recovery. I’m aiming to be in her place, doing the same kind of work.
Views from Westminster Bridge, March 2020.
London before lockdown.
Tuesday 16 January 2018. Towards Albert Bridge. North-side of the Thames away from Battersea Bridge. The road traffic is heavy but the pavement is wide enough not to feel overwhelmed. I walk that way when I need to think. Mentally blocking out the noise of rushing cars and vans helps me focus. I was lucky in 2018 largely because of job change. I gained a role at a community drug and alcohol service in Soho.
Every social strata, colour and creed walks through that door from high flying execs to housewives, grade-A students to rough sleepers. I spent a lot of time listening and acting on their needs. One minute I’m supporting someone through a crisis and the next I’m recovery coaching and writing up action plans. Each person has a history and reasons why they need support. Yes, there’s horror, trauma and distress. But there’s also hope, aspirations and goals which echo the recovery journey in mental health.
I spent part of the summer in airy historic churches listening to choir performances. The combination of uplifting voices and sunlight through stained glass windows was heady and romantic. I hope to join a choir in time for Christmas carols. I’m in no way a professional signer. Not even a confident amateur. I’m a hopeful novice with a yearning to be part of something greater and more musical than my single modest voice.
I spent 12 months staring up at the Post Office tower. It’s on the door step of the University of Westminster where I studied for my masters in psychology. At lunch times, away from the stress of the course and difficulty of trying to work myself out, I’d sit in a leafy square close to the foot of the tower and gaze up wondering.
I’d imagine the view, a rich skyline of glass and trees, brick and concrete, towers and spires and domes. London is glorious from on high. A pretty green marble dense with history and striking modernity, like the Shard, St Paul’s, Big Ben and the amazing London Eye. Visualizing all of that and more whilst dining on my sandwiches stilled my anxieties for a moment.
through the round window 