Tag Archives: healthy body

Yes, It’s Me, Back Again

Well, where have all the months gone since my last post? I must tell you that each week I say that I will start blogging again and each week passes without a blogpost.

So today is the first day of the rest of my life.

Yesterday when I opened this post from Elizabeth at  Laughing  Cow in France, it took me back two years to when I had that awful misadventure. I hastened to assure Elizabeth that life does go on after a major accident, even if at a lesser pace.  Elizabeth then continued the next day with part two. It is well worth reading and reminds us how quickly life can change and how lucky we are to live in countries where medical assistance is readily available.

And my tale tells how very good our bodies are at healing themselves even if sometimes they need a little medical help. I hope that Elizabeth’s journey is not too hard for her to bear.

Another post I read today is from Nancy at Not Quite Old. In light of the Kavanaugh/Ford proceedings currently playing out in the media around the world, this blog post is very timely.

Most, if not all women will have been the subject of sexual abuse at some time in their lives. Trump asks why Kavanaugh’s accusers did not report the abuse at the time? We as women know why. So thank you, Nancy, for this post. It brings home to us just how vulnerable women and girls are to “rougher and meaner” men and boys. And of course, boys and young men are also vulnerable to these predators and have been equally reticent to seek justice, for where is justice if the perpetrators are men in high office, the church or company hierarchy?

I shall be following the proceedings of the Senate Committee Judicial hearing on Thursday.

Justice will not be served until
those who are unaffected
are as outraged as those who are.” 
― Benjamin Franklin

So enough meandering for today. You have been warned – I shall be back.

 

Advertisements

Saturday

Six word Saturday button

It’s Saturday again so here we go. If you would like to participate please either click on the picture above or click this link.

OFF TO THE GOLDEN DOOR TOMORROW!!

So today I shall be busy with last minute chores so that I can leave at the crack of dawn tomorrow.  We have to be at the airport at 4am so we shall stay at a friend’s house overnight and then he will take us out to the airport.  What a good friend 🙂

Lotte is going to stay with him for the time I am away.  He is looking forward to that and she seems to settle in wherever I leave her.  She has her coat, her brush, her rug and a couple of toys so she will be fine.

Tai Chi

6am Tai Chi at The Golden Door

When I have been to the Golden Door before I haven’t had access to the internet.  Things may have changed but I suspect I shall not be writing blogs until I return.

And in case you think this is a holiday, here is a typical day at Queensland’s Golden Door:

  • 6.15am   Welcome a new day with Tai Chi Qi Gong at sunrise.
  • 6.45am   Enjoy a guided bush walk on our pink, blue or green courses; or Get wet and wild with deep water running in the bottom pool or challenge yourself with high intensity spinning class.
  • 8.00am  Buffet breakfast of seasonal fruit, Golden Door signature muesli and specialty breakfast cuisine.
  • 9.00am  Morning stretch class held in the gymnasium, a gentle and relaxing way to start your day.
  • 9.30am-11.00am  A health & wellbeing workshop aimed at providing you with the knowledge to make positive lifestyle changes.
  • 10.45am   A healthy and nutritious morning tea served in the dining room.
  • 11.00am – 1.00pm  Take part in the various daily exercise activities and spa treatments available. Try something new or take a challenge.
  • 1.00pm   A sumptuous buffet lunch served in the dining room.
  • 2.00pm-6.00pm    Choose from a variety of activities and seminars available to enjoy. Indulge at the spa where your relaxing massage, refreshing body treatment or luxurious beauty treatment awaits.
  • 3.45pm  A healthy and nutritious afternoon tea served in the dining room.
  • 6.30pm  Be rewarded after a busy day with a mouth watering buffet dinner created by our Executive Chef David Hunter and his team.

But it is enjoyable and I always come back renewed and filled with great plans for the future.  They usually last about two weeks, but hey it’s fun.


Health is a state of complete physical, mental and social well-being, and not merely the absence of disease or infirmity.
World Health Organization, 1948

And Now For Today’s Shower

No the plumbing isn’t playing up but …

Somehow, when I encased my foot in its big red Santa boot in a green City Council recycling bag this morning I either (a) didn’t seal it properly around the leg or (b) ripped it somehow.  Because … when I got out of the shower my foot in its boot was swimming in water.  Well that’s a slight exaggeration.  There was water in the bottom of the bag.

This of course, is very uncomfortable when said foot is encased in said red Santa boot.  So a call to the hospital orthopedic department at the hospital followed.  I spoke to a delightful (young) woman who told me that a nurse would call back and give me a time to come into the clinic.  A couple of hours passed with no phone call. I then made another call working on the assumption that the squeaky wheel gets the oil, to be told by the same (young) woman that the nurses were (a) very busy, (b) had been given the message and (c) would call me back “if they could” today.  Whereupon I told her that the foot was wet, the plaster was wet etc, etc and that I needed to speak to somebody TODAY!

Some two hours later I received a call from the supervising nurse who said that they couldn’t fit me in today but she suggested that if somebody else were around, I get them to direct the heat from a hairdryer on low, down into the space between the foot and the cast.  I did point out to her that in the pages of literature I had been given about caring for a cast, directing heat from a hairdryer was a definite NO.

Hairdryer

She countered this by saying that I was a sensible woman and would know if I was damaging the cast with the heat.  How?  She also said that if this didn’t work I should call her in the morning and make a time to come back to the clinic to have this fibreglass cast removed and replaced with a full plaster cast.
As I have only 7 more sleeps before the cast comes off I asked why they wouldn’t replace it with another fibreglass cast.  The response?  Because of the type of fracture I have the bone could have moved and they would want to be sure that it stayed in place for another week.

That makes absolutely no sense to me.  She also commented that if the bone had moved they might have to perform surgery – my response to that is NO WAY.  If surgery was to be performed why didn’t they do it five weeks ago at the time of the accident?

So my ever patient friend has just sat with me directing a stream of heat down into the cast.  I don’t know just how I can repay him for the care and attention that has been lavished on me over the past five weeks.  And I don’t know if applying the heat has worked but it certainly feels better than it did before the hairdryer was applied to it.

Boy will I be glad to see the end of this cast.

Waking up

Photo -Agnieszka Pastuszak - Maksim | Dreamstime.com

Hooray – only seven more sleeps until it comes off.

A different walk today

“These boots are made for walking
and that’s just what they’re gonna do.”

It has been a beautiful day here.  Bright sunshine but unfortunately strong winds and so the temperature has never really reached any great height.  But it is most pleasant to take a walk around the shore and take in the sights.

Marine reserve

We started our walk into the brisk wind and found some very interesting houses.

We are told that the woman of this house always wanted to live in a lighthouse, so while she was away overseas on a trip the husband had one built for her.  True or not it’s a good story.

Life boat house

Immediately to the left of that house sits this one.  As you can see it has a life boat built into the facade.  No information on why it’s there or who put it there  is available but it makes another good talking point.

Two horses house

And to the left of that is this house.  Why there are two horses above the garage is anybody’s guess.

The ocean

If you look really hard you can see the South Island in the distance.

All three of these houses sit with their backs to a high cliff and the sea in front.  It would be an exciting place to live when the southerlies blow and the wind whips up the waves.  But today it was relatively calm.

Hazard warning

The road to the quarry

We then drove a little way around to the Red Rocks Scientific Reserve.  Red rocks or Pariwhero in Maori is an area steeped in myths and legends.  The rocks  are ancient pillow lava formed 200 million years ago by undersea volcanic eruptions. Small amounts of iron oxides give the rocks their distinctive red colouring.

There is always more than one story in Maori folklore and the red rocks are no exception.   In one story  Kupe – the famous Polynesian explorer – was gathering paua (abalone) here when one clamped his hand. He bled and stained the rocks red. In the other story, and the one I prefer, the daughters of Kupe, fearing for his safety on a long voyage, they gashed themselves in grief over his absence.  The red is their blood.

Red Rocks

There is an unmanned Scientific Centre that gives historical notes and information on the surroundings and the habitation of the area.  This is one such information tablet.

Another is on the fur seals. These are males who have lost  fights for territory in the breeding colonies at the top of the South Island.  As it is a bachelor colony there are no females and so you are not likely to come upon a seal pup here.

Fur seals

There is also information on early quarrying activity in the area. And I shall write about the quarry and its activities and eventual closure in another post.

Quarry

“I dream of hiking into my old age.”
Marlyn Doan
, 1936 – 2005

City of Sails

“The time has come”the walrus said
to talk of many things:
Of shoes and ships and sealing wax
of cabbages and kings.”
Lewis Carrol –
from Through the Looking Glass

In New Zealand Auckland is known as the city of sails but here in Wellington we have our fair share of yachts.  Large and small, we see them braving the mad winds we have in our harbour.  Yesterday, when out for our walk and even though there was a brisk wind, the only activity around the marina seemed to be people cleaning and getting their yachts ready to sail.

Yachts

As you can see the marina is almost in the CBD.

Yachts

Having been married to a boat owner (several launches no yachts) I do know just how much work there is always waiting to be done around boats.

Laser dinghy

Laser image via Wikipedia

One Christmas when they were about 13 and 15, we bought the children a Laser.  They had earlier been introduced to P-class sailing when we lived on Lake Pupuke in Auckland, but this was their first real experience of sailing and managing a yacht.  We had many laughs until they got used to it, and they had many hours, weeks, months and years of fun.

But back to yesterday.  It was a very good day for a walk around the harbour even though the wind did it’s best to blow Lotte’s ears inside out.

Chaffers Sign

For some reason the date reverted to 1 January 2007 on the camera.

This is the main marina in the city but there are others scattered around our harbour.  New Zealanders love the sea and use any excuse to get out on their boats.  Children start very early with p-class yachts and if they are keen, they can always find somebody wanting a deck hand on a boat for the day.

And of course, nowhere in New Zealand are we any more than about 2.5 hours drive from the sea.  So those born and/or brought up here have the sea in their blood.

Chaffers Dock Apartments

These apartments converted from an office block, have uninterrupted views of the activity on the harbour.  On the ground floor is a variety of cafes and restaurants where one can while away time over a good coffee or a meal.  Lotte is welcome but of course, we sit outside with her to drink our coffee.  This is a particularly good place for people watching – my most favourite sport.

cup of latte

“We do not live by coffee alone; order a danish.” Judith Baxter

French for Brunch

Simply Paris signbrunch m (petit déjeuner tardif et copieux remplaçant le déjeuner).

Today I had brunch with a group of women.  I knew one of the four women but the other three were strangers to me.

These women meet on a regular basis for brunch and French conversation and I was invited to join them today.  Hopefully, they liked me enough to allow me to become part of this group.

Bread

Selection of bread at Simply Paris

My French conversational skills are quite limited, but so then were three of the others.  The fourth woman was the coach/teacher.  This woman was born and raised in Skopje, Macedonia and after deciding that Economics was not for her, she changed to Languages and in particular French for her degree.

She arrived here in the mid 1990s with her two small children and husband, speaking no English.  How hard life must have been for her then.  A new culture, no friends, no way of communicating and two little children.  But  she is a survivor and although I have only met her just once, this is very obvious.

She decided to share her love of the  language with others and runs a series of informal classes teaching others to communicate in French.

As we were leaving and standing at the counter to pay, a complete  stranger came up to me and said “I think you look great”.  What a lovely and totally unexpected compliment.  It rounded off a very pleasant couple of hours.

Do you ever think of paying a stranger a compliment?  I have been known to on occasions but with the effect that this woman’s words had on me, I know that I shall be paying compliments to strangers again.

Then it was time for Lotte and me to go for our walk.  As it was such a lovely day we ventured out to the south coast – 10 minutes in the car.

Inter Islander

Inter Island Ferry

We saw the InterIslander going out from Wellington harbour.  On such a beautiful clear, sunny afternoon  there would have been fantastic views and opportunities for photographs from the upper deck of the ferry.

Rugged coast

This is very rugged coastline and quite dangerous to shipping. This is where one  of New Zealand’s most talked about maritime disasters occurred.  In April 1968 Cyclone Giselle hit Wellington at the same time as another storm which had driven up the West Coast of the South Island from Antarctica. The two storms met over the capital city, creating a single storm just as the inter-island ferry Wahine was crossing Cook Strait.  51 people lost their lives in the sinking.  Click here for TV coverage of the disaster.  It is interesting to hear the coverage and the frightfully BBC type reporting and voice.

Warning sign

We just love signs in New Zealand and this one caught my eye.  Apparently the Moa Point Wastewater Treatment Plant occasionally discharges a mixture of fully and partially treated sewage through its ocean outfall pipe into Cook Strait.  Hence the warning.

Houses

These houses clinging to the shore and the hillside are only about 10 kms from our bustling Capital city.  Wonderful on a day like today but I imagine quite frightening in one of the many strong southerly winds that hit this coast.

Manhole cover

On September 1st (before my gmail problems) Hallysann at Photographic Memories posted some photos of covers and so I thought I would add one of ours.  It’s nowhere near as attractive as those that Hallysann found wandering around Oxford but it’s the best I can do for today.

Lotte tired

By the time we had walked for about 30 minutes and Lotte had done some socialising with other dogs she met on the walk, she was ready to return home.  She is now ensconced in front of the fire – her usual place.

And just because I like this quote I shall finish with it today

I’m an excellent housekeeper. Every time I get a divorce, I keep the house.
~ Zsa Zsa Gabor

Blowing away the cobwebs

After being inside for the past 5 days, apart from the short trips to the Open Home on Sunday and the Doctor’s office yesterday, I decided that both of us needed a walk today.

So Lotte and I got dressed to go out.  the sun was shining and where I live there was little wind.  After a quick lunch with a friend, during which Madam was confined to the car much to her annoyance, we went to the harbour.

Lambton Harbour

Lambton Harbour via Wikipedia

Here in Wellington one can walk for several kilometers around Lambton Harbour.  The old port of Wellington has been reclaimed and opened to the public.  An old building has been converted to apartments, a large arena has been built and several of the sheds have been converted to other uses.  Te Papa (Our Place in Maori) is  our National Museum and it sits on reclaimed land in the harbour.

Shoreline plaque

via Wikipedia

So as you can imagine it is a very pleasant place to walk on a sunny afternoon in Spring.  But by the time we arrived there the wind had got up – well this is Windy Wellington after all – and poor little Lotte had to contend with the wind blowing her ears back from her head, almost inside out.  I do wish I would remember to take the camera with me when I go out as she was quite a sight to see.

But we both welcomed the opportunity to get out on such a lovely day.


I think dogs are the most amazing creatures; they give unconditional love.  For me they are the role model for being alive.
Gilda Radner
, 1946 – 1989
American comedian and actress,

 

A visit to the Doctor

“Never go to a doctor whose office plants have died”
Erma Bombeck, 1927-1996

After a disturbed night of coughing, tossing and turning I give in.  As I have been urged to,  I call the doctor’s office to make an appointment.

I turn up at the appointed time, 11.45 am and am told to take a seat.  I am in a  house in the village converted to a heath centre.  It is an old house, well old by our standards, with polished wood floors, a central passage and doors leading off both sides.

I take a seat and for the next 45 minutes I sit idly thumbing through an out of date magazine and looking at the others waiting.  There is an older couple, he with a walking cane and she obviously taking care of him.  They seem to know the only other person in the room, a woman probably mid thirties.  She doesn’t seem to be waiting to see a doctor and indeed, when the man’s name is called she tells the couple she will wait until they come out.

Meantime, staff come and go; people come and go.  The receptionist leaves for lunch and her place is taken by a nurse.  She is the one who removed the stitches after I tried to cut off my thumb.  That’s another story for another time.

A staff member (because she was wearing a name tag) appears in the waiting room and walks over to the young woman and they enter into a discussion as to who should pick up the girls from school and take them to practice.  It’s agreed that the staff member will pick them up and they will all meet later after practice.

A couple of young girls arrive and only one stays.  It is spring here but not warm although they don’t notice that they are barely dressed for the weather.   The one who stays is called into the doctor’s consulting room and still I wait.

A mother and her young child come out of a consulting room; have a brief conversation with the nurse/receptionist and after saying they will be back tomorrow, leave.

A child is crying in one of the consulting rooms, a young man comes out with his arm bandaged and the elderly couple appear.  They meet up with the young woman who has waited for them, and all leave together.

If I had been feeling better I would have played my usual waiting game.  When waiting in airports, grocery checkout lines or waiting for friends, I make up stories about the people I am watching.  People watching is one of my favourite games.  But this is an opportunity missed today.

And at last it is my turn.  A charming young man appears.  Well he certainly doesn’t look old enough to be a doctor and leads me through to his consulting room.  Because I have been sitting in his waiting room for 45 minutes loudly coughing and choking, he doesn’t have to ask why I am there.  He proceeds to tell me that it is the flu.  How can that be I ask when I had the flu injection at the beginning of the winter.  This is a strain that they knew nothing about,  It is rife and resistant to the shot I had earlier.  Great.

He is only just getting over this flu himself.  He tells me the cough will last for about 3 weeks.  How long have I had it – one week?  OK then I should expect it to be around for another two.

We talk about the operas that I saw last week .  A double billing by the NZ Opera Company and billed Cav &Pag (Cavalleria Rusticana and Pagliachi).  A truly magnificent show during which I managed not to cough too often and too loudly.  And then he told me about WOW (the World of Wearable Arts show) that he had seen last week.  Only then, does he decide to take my temperature, listen to my lungs etc etc.

He writes me a prescription for a steroid, an antibiotic and some linctus to ease the throat and help the cough.  Then I am out of there.  45 minutes waiting and 15 minutes consultation.

But I know why the wait was so long.  He is really a charming young man and he likes to talk with his patients and get to know them.  His comment to me was that looking at my file he saw that I didn’t go to the doctor often.  And over the past three years had been twice with broken bones.  Can’t fool that nice guy.

Then off to the pharmacy where I had another 20 minutes wait.  I just couldn’t wait to get back home.  I was exhausted after my morning doing nothing.

I started with Erma Bombeck and will finish this post with a quote that bears no relation to the theme of this post.  Put it down to a hard day achieving nothing.

“Give a girl the correct footwear and she can conquer the world”
Bette Midler

Red Shoes

If only I was still able to wear those heels!

Chop Off Her Head er Leg

“Now, I give you fair warning, either you or your head must be off, and that in about half no time! Take your choice!”
from ‘Alice in Wonderland’

When I read Monica’s Tangled Web blog today I was taken back 62 years to a similarly, frightening experience.

On Saturday morning I woke with a sore knee. It felt hot but mother put a cold compress on it and told me all would be well.  The next morning I awoke and could hardly put my foot to the ground.  The knee was red and swollen.  Mother decided then that it needed attention.

We had no car so I had to hobble with her to catch a bus to the hospital some half hour ride away.  She obviously deemed it far too serious for the doctor’s office.

I don’t remember much of the ensuing hours while they tried to find out what was wrong with me.  I told them how I had fallen in the school playground earlier in the week and the staff had bathed and bandaged the knee.  The doctors determined that they hadn’t got all the asphalt chips out and so started poking around looking for the chips that they were convinced must still be in the leg.  I don’t remember, but hope that they gave me a local anesthetic prior to the digging.

Some time later and after much discussion among the doctors and then with my mother, it was decided that I had osteomyelitis an infection in the bone.  At the time there was no cure and my mother reluctantly, I hope, agreed that the leg could be amputated to prevent other bones being infected.

Can you imagine the terror  this 11-year-old girl felt when she was told by her mother that this is what was to happen, and fairly soon.  Fortunately, the surgeon came into the ward and told mother about a new, untried drug that was being tested.  Would she give permission for this drug to be used on her daughter.  She agreed and there began a six-week course of Streptomycin every three hours.

So my leg was put into a cast to keep it from moving and the cast was attached to a hoist.  As I have grown I have never worked out why it had to be attached to the hoist, but anyway..

So every 3 hours, night and day my poor little skinny backside was injected with this drug.

It was a scary and lonely time for me.  I was in a room on my own, maybe because they thought the infection was contagious (although that could not have been the reason) or the most likely reason was that they had to disturb me every 3 hours and wouldn’t want to wake any other patients during the night.

Mother, father and my sisters came to visit each day but at that time, visiting hours were very regulated and the staff really didn’t give much thought to a scared young girl laying there alone after the family had left.

I have no clear memory of any of the nurses – hey we are talking 60 plus years ago – but I am sure they all took care of me in ways they knew how.

But I do remember the night that the doctor came into the room.  Mother and the rest of the family had gone for the night.  In a kindly tone he asked if I would like him to release the hoist for the night.  Up until that time, the hoist was released only for short periods, bathing, lavatory trips etc.  I was overjoyed.  And then he told me that the plaster could come off the next day and they would then determine how well or if the treatment had worked.  So  although I was delighted that the hoist was released I was left alone with more scary thoughts.  I am sure that I spent most of that night in trepidation wondering what they would discover when they removed the cast.

I was in a fever the next morning.  Each time I heard footsteps coming towards my room I thought they were coming for me.  But they waited until mother could be there before removing the cast.  I remember looking at her and feeling that she was worried about the outcome too.

They removed the cast and apart from the look of  this sorry, wasted right leg, they pronounced all was well.  The Streptomycin had cured the bug infection and I could go home later that day.  Of course, I had a series of exercises to strengthen the leg and they had to be done several times a day.  I couldn’t go back to school until I had recovered some strength in the leg.  And so I spent some of the only days alone with my mother.  Always the other girls were there needing attention but here I was the only person she had to attend to in the hours in which the girls were at school.  I really enjoyed that time and look back on it with gratitude.

I had to take care not to knock the leg for a while, but I quickly forgot about it in the days when I went back to school and then there was the excitement of going to the grammar school and moving house.  Osteomyelitis, the possibility of losing a leg, six weeks in hospital were all forgotten as these things should be when one is only 11 years old.

I will always be grateful to that surgeon who offered the alternative to losing a leg.  I have not thought of him for many, many years and I never knew his name.  Obviously I thanked him when I left hospital but in later years, I could have made the time to find out his name and thank him properly.

And I have not often thought of it in the intervening years, with one exception.  My husband was seriously ill in hospital and I met a young couple with a child of about 11.  They had just been told that she had osteomyelitis and though they now had drugs with which to treat the infection, there was still a lot of dread connected with this disease.  I was happy to be able to assure them that the disease could be cured and told them own experience.  I like to think that I helped them in some small way.


My Morning Pages

“Writing is a form of personal freedom.  It frees us from the mass identity we see in the making all around us.  In the end, writers will write not to be outlaw heroes of some underculture but mainly to save themselves, to survive as individuals.” 
Don Delillo, American Novelist 1926 –

Do you find that your mind wanders in all directions?  I start out to read a blog, that puts me on a certain trail, from there I go to another trail and on and on it goes.  Several hours pass and I have done nothing except follow these bloggers, their thoughts and mine. This is really stream of consciousness and reminded me of a task I used to set all of my Life Coaching clients.

I discovered this process when reading and following Julia Cameron’s The Artist’s Way – it is now also an online course.  She calls it Morning Pages – a stream of consciousness writing.

I started to write my Morning Pages shortly after my husband died.  It was cathartic.  I could write down all the hurts, anger and disappointments and get them out of my system rather than laying them as a burden on friends or family.

Even before I started using this process a friend of mine told me how she wrote out all her frustrations with her husband who having retired, wanted only to play golf and spend time mainly with his male friends.  She got the angst and anger out of her system onto the pages.  By doing so she rid herself of the frustrations and anger without any major rows with her husband.  And in the process, she discovered that , what she really wanted to do with her life was run a bed and breakfast operation.  She now does that very successfully.

So with this example in front of me I took the idea on board and used it to determine where I was headed and if I wanted to go there.

As it worked for me I then, with some adaptations to reflect that my clients weren’t necessarily artists, I introduced it into my Life Coaching practice.  Of course, I gave credit to Julia Cameron and I encouraged my clients to either purchase a copy of the book or at least borrow a copy from the local library.

My clients were encouraged to start writing three pages by hand, each day when they first awoke.  Before the thoughts and interruptions of the day intruded.  All the minor (and perhaps some of the major) irritants that flow through our days can be written out in the Morning Pages – get them onto the page and out of the mind.

My clients were told that this was non-negotiable.  The pages had to be hand written every day.  Research has shown that handhandwrittenmulates a bunch of cells at the base of the brain called the reticular activating system (RAS). The RAS acts as a filter for everything your brain needs to process, giving more importance to the stuff that you’re actively focusing on at the moment—the physical act of writing brings it to the forefront.  Author Henriette Anne Klauser who wrote Write It Down, Make It Happen, says that “Writing triggers the RAS, which in turn sends a signal to the cerebral cortex: ‘Wake up! Pay attention! Don’t miss this detail!’

They were told to “Ignore your inner censor who is very quick to point out that there are other things you could be doing.  Or who says you are not doing these pages correctly.  Get out of bed and begin your Morning Pages.  Just keep your hand moving across the page.  Three pages of whatever comes into your mind.  If you can’t think of anything to write then write that “I can’t think of anything to write”.  You could fill all three pages with this one sentence, but it is likely that in the process of writing this several times other things will pop into your head.”

I also recommended that they didn’t go back and reread what they had written.  Just write.  Why put it back into your head?  And if it was written several weeks ago it has no doubt been dealt with by now.

Stream of consciousness writing is a technique to achieve release.   Our minds have the capacity to think about all our problems and feelings but our minds can become clouded if there is too much information or if one occurrence is overpowering.  We can’t think clearly and the problem takes on a life of its own.

Jennifer Blanchard experimented with Morning Pages and she wrote a blog about it .  Why don’t you give it a try?  It could be quite liberating whether you consider yourself an artist or not.  In fact, just writing your blog each day makes you an artist.

“Be yourself. Above all, let who you are, what you are, what you believe
shine through every sentence you write, every piece you finish.”
John Jakes, American author 1932 –

And for no reason other than I like it –

“My days of whining and complaining about others have come to an end.  Nothing is easier than fault finding.  All it will do is discolor my personality
so that none will want to associate with me. 
That was my old life.  No more.” 
Og Mandino, American author 1923-1996 author of The Greatest Salesman in the World.