More Lessons from Lockdown VI: Kate O'Brien

Over the past weeks I have been fortunate enough to speak with some of the most respected healers and intuitive therapists gaining their insights on this new way of living. I have learnt a lot and in this final piece in Lessons from Lockdown, I am offering my own thoughts and the lessons I have learnt from this unique moment in our history. While I am not an intuitive healer, I have been working, writing and living in the wellbeing space for some 30 years now, combining my scientific, nutrition, cosmetic science and yoga teaching qualifications to help others on their journey to health and wellbeing.

Stages of Grief

Reflecting on the past weeks, my story unfolded in a similar fashion to the five stages of grief identified by psychiatrist Elizabeth Kubler-Ross in her 1969 book, On Death and Dying. These stages of - denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance – are also applicable to other major events like divorce, job loss, illness and of course, global pandemics. For me, there was denial at the early stages (this is nothing to worry about, my life will continue as normal etc.), followed by anger and sadness (not sure about the bargaining part?), until I reached a level of acceptance that this major upheaval was absolutely inevitable in our crazy world. I have long thought that with the level of greed and consumption evident in recent years that something had to give, but I honestly didn't think it would happen in my lifetime. As Fiona Arrigo said in her interview (here): “Mother Earth has put us into our rooms like naughty children to think about our actions. But in our rooms we can build hope.”

Finding Meaning

In his recent book, Finding Meaning, US grief expert and author David Kessler, added a sixth stage to Kubler-Ross’s paradigm. This is where my lockdown journey has rested and has helped me find some peace within myself, as well as some hope for the future of our planet and for our children.

Over the past weeks listening to the results of numerous surveys cited over the airways, it is clear that this ‘new normal’ is one of people generally exercising more (than ever before), being more productive in their work, while also spending more time with their families. What’s not to be hopeful about in this? Not to lessen the enormous grief suffered by too many people who have lost loved ones and livelihoods.

Sangoma Wisdom

African-Irish Sangoma John Lockley believes that this pandemic is one of the greatest teachings of our time, as we are part of nature but have lost our way (interview here). To re-harmonise once again with Mother Nature we need to befriend our fears, befriend our shadows and befriend death. “Our ancestors could teach us a lot,” he added. “Maybe we should think about what they would do if they were with us now: They would pray; they would spend time outdoors calling on nature and they would have faith and courage - all of these natural disasters teach us and if we don't pay heed, we succumb to panic and fear.”

In the words of Arrigo: “We are the dreamers of the new and the more we rest, the more we dream and at some point these prayers and visions will undoubtedly create a new world. Midst this terror, there is great magnificence, so let’s dare to dream, dare to hope and come together in our collective wisdom.”

Kate’s lessons from lockdown

Yes our lives are different now and the rich wisdom I have been gathering over many years of research and interviews is truly coming to the fore. I know that ‘this too shall pass’ - in my view the ultimate Lao Tzu (and in fact anyone) quote that continues to help me through difficult times.

I have learnt that what illuminates life is not the chasing after, but the slowing down and the living in the now. However, putting this into practice has proved especially difficult for me who has long lived my life in overdrive.
Roger Moore (interview here) used the analogy of weeding the garden to help us declutter our minds. While we dig up the weeds in our physical gardens, let’s dig deeper in our own heads to remove anything that no longer serves us. This I have found especially useful, as most days I spend time weeding my garden in Dublin and I try to do likewise in my head, planting seeds (thoughts) of hope and positivity. I am watering these hopes (albeit rather sparsely!) with a little stillness and/or meditation.
I am a passionate yogi and over the past weeks have been delving further into yoga philosophy thanks to the online platform Yoga Philosophy founded by hugely knowledgeable philosophy expert and author Dr. Shyam Ranganathan. He is kindly offering his excellent Yoga Sutras course (normally US$300) complementary for a limited period (use the code: kateobrien). More information here.
On Lockley’s advice I have been listening to the birds - our garden has become a magical haven for robins over the past weeks. He tells us to: ‘Ask about the wild ones outdoors untamed by the trappings of cyber culture’ – and let then teach us how to live.
Thanks to new Zealand-based healer Dorinda Rose Berry I am finally starting to notice the quiet in my life, and am sitting with it for a few minutes every day (more here). “Allow yourself to feel comfortable in this, as this is when you can best access your inner light,” she advises. “With every breath envisage that you are filling your body with white light. Feel the light filled with love and universal unconditional guidance. See yourself as the lighthouse spreading this healing light throughout your home and touching your loved ones.”
I have also been practising Ho’oponopono, an ancient Hawaiian mantra designed to free us from toxic energy and open us to a lighter, softer way. Repeated over and over, first thing each morning the following words will sink in (I promise!):
‘I’m sorry - Please forgive me - I love you - Thank you.’
Finally, I am slowly and gently leaning Ypomoni, the Greek for patience and know that this too will pass, and just possibly, despite the loss of lives and livelihoods, our world will be a brighter richer place in the aftermath. All the while, thanks to Patrizia Bortolin and Stefano Battaglia at Preidlhof (interview here), I am remembering to breathe in, breathe out, to laugh and laugh some more.