Summer Vacation

This will be my last post for two weeks, sadly – it's time for a little summer break. We're only going away for long weekend, so this must seem a little extravagant. But summer holidays call for some advanced prep time. There's scouring for sunblock (or as they say here – suncream) at Boots to find that SPF that's actually high enough to keep me alive, panicking at said scary pale skin that might frighten small children when pasty-white thighs are revealed and flirting with the idea of self-tan (although it never seems to work quite right). It's a tough life – really.

We've also agreed to do a little more advanced planning this year. Typically we just turn up in foreign cities and think, right, what shall we do now? By then all tours are booked up and restaurants shut, etc, etc, which obviously stresses me out and doesn't help any of my nervous tendencies. So I'm going to get out the France Rough Guide.

Luckily we're going to a remote place where we've been before so we have some idea of what's available and there's also been a collective desire to have some swimming and reading in the sun time at the local pool (my absolute favourite activity – holiday or not). I've even borrowed the latest Marian Keyes book from a friend. Before you judge my chick-lit ways, let me just say that she is so much more than a chick-lit writer. I absolutely love her books. They are funny and true on many levels. I also applaud her on a personal front for being so open about struggles she's had (and continues to face) – with depression and alcoholism. I am pretty fanatical about her and her work.

The other fabulous thing about this part of France is that our diet will consist solely of steak, pizza and wine. What could be better food to savor and enjoy?

I will make sure to collect some good stories to share with you when I am back. See you on Monday, September 6!

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On Breathing

I'm not very good at breathing. This may sound strange, because we obviously need to breathe to live. But I often find that I actually hold my breath – or breathe really shallowly – especially when I feel stressed, uneasy or anxious.

The other day I was walking home from the train station and feeling generally icky so I started to try to breathe more deeply. I immediately started to feel better, calmer and more grounded. And then I started to yawn, just like in yoga class after we've done the first breathing exercise. My body suddenly seemed to shake free of the tension I was holding and I felt better – and more human.

Obviously, this all sounds pretty hokey and new-agey, but there is actually something to be said for learning how to breathe well to help with everyday stress. I found a paper written by Patricia L. Gerbarg, M.D., an assistant clinical professor in psychiatry at New York Medical College, where she explains that our stress response system works within the autonomic nervous system consisting of two branches – sympathetic and parasympathetic. The sympathetic nervous system switches on when we feel threatened in a fight or flight scenario, increasing the heart rate, breathing and metabolic rate. When the threat has passed the parasympathetic system's role is to slow down these rates, repair any cellular damage and calm and replenish our energy, according to Gerbarg.

For people under stress or those with chronic anxiety (read more on research that we may be pre-disposed to anxiety, in my post Baby 19), the sympathetic system is in overdrive and the parasympathetic system is underactive. There are many medicines that can temporarily dampen the sympathetic system, however, there really isn't anything available to boost the parasympathetic system.

So that's where breathing techniques and other mind-body practices like meditation and yoga fit in. They are ways to boost the parasympathetic nervous system to keep that pesky sympathetic system in check.

I really like Leo Babuta's blog, called Zen Habits and his post on breathing pretty much says it all: click here to read about the many benefits of breathing. I particularly like the idea that you can always rely on taking a breath whenever something in your life starts to make you feel out of control, it's just so simple that one could really overlook it.

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Tir Na Nog

Tir Na Nog is the Irish mythological land of youth and beauty where sickness and death are remarkably absent. This past weekend Future Hub and I decided to check out our local Tir Na Nog pub, where Saturday nights feature a live Irish band performance.

I have to say, the name of the pub is quite apropos. In the outskirts of London, close to a large Sainsbury's and other modern (and somewhat depressing) inventions, sits an authentic Irish pub. It's decorated with not only wobbly wooden tables and candles stuck in wine jugs but also a cast iron cooking stove, a French horn hung from the ceiling and other knick-knacks dotted around, making the place seem cozy and generous. I was seated next to a lamp that looked like it was fashioned after the Old Woman Who Lived in a Shoe nursery rhyme.

The band sat around a large table on one side of the pub, looking relaxed and contented. Everyone else was listening with similar happy looks, tapping their feet in time to the music or nodding their heads.

Music has, at different times in my life, played a big role. When I was a kid my Dad played trombone in a jazz band and some of my earliest memories of music are of going to see him play (his big claim to fame is that Vanessa Williams once sang with the band). I sang in the church choir (and in various strange children's musicals) as a kid and played the piano for 12 years. Although I wasn't really allowed to go to concerts in high school, I went to every concert in college I could go to, even if I didn't even know the band's music. In college (and even my 20s) I felt I had more time to do these things, to know what was going on more in the music world. And I suppose to just sit around and listen to music.

But it's gone by the wayside over the years. Recently I've been trying to see more live music again. It's such a good antidote to my life, which is always about words. Whether it's writing for work or fun, or seeing films, TV shows, reading magazines, newspapers or books for my book club. There's a lot of verbalization.

But Saturday, listening to music sent a wash of peacefulness over me and my brain cleared out more than usual (although I'm sure the gin and tonic didn't hurt). It was so nice just to sit there and be.

I think it's important to do activities that take you out of your main areas of focus (as long as you still enjoy them!). I felt the same way when we went to see the film Gainsbourg – A glimpse at the life of French singer Serge Gainsbourg – the other week. The film was not very script-focused, it was more visual (which makes sense as the screenwriter is also a graphic novelist) and musical – and allowed me to just get lost in the sounds and visuals.

It makes sense scientifically that I would feel different – language uses the left side of our brain while music and art are centered in our right. Which means the overactive reasoning side of my brain could have a little rest. Just sit down and put your feet up, left brain, take a load off. Tir Na Nog did just what it said on the tin, it gave me a little glimpse of life and pleasurable pursuits coming together in the same place. Not bad for the price of a few drinks.

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The Two-Day Rule

I was reading Gretchen Rubin's blog on happiness (The Happiness Project) and I found something interesting in her post about exercise. She talks about the benefits of daily exercise. As a disclaimer, let's just be clear that I'm not advocating doing exercise every day, unless that's what you want to do. I think everyone needs to find the right amount, frequency and type of exercise for them – remember to be your own expert. But what struck me about her list of tips to keep exercise was one that said: Never skip exercising for two days in a row.

This rule could be helpful, I thought, for many things, especially when you're trying to start any new habit. I think it's still up for debate how many days it takes for a new habit to become ingrained, I've heard everything from 21 to 60 days. Regardless, it takes time. And the perfectionist in me – and in all of us, I think – can often sabotage our best intention to change habits. For example, if you've decided to say, get up earlier in the morning (who would do that, I wonder?). You might be successful at it for say, three days, and then, you miss a day and run into the all-or-nothing conundrum. Now that I've missed a day, you say to yourself, what exactly is the point?

But that's where the two-day rule is fabulous. If you miss a day, you say, oh well, I missed a day, but what's really important is that I don't miss two days. And so, voila (!) you get back on the horse.

It seems to me like it could also work for something you're trying to do at any regular interval. Let's say you're trying to exercise three times a week or eat vegetables/fruit three times a day. You just don't let yourself skip more than once. I didn't have fruit with my breakfast, so I better eat some with lunch, says the little cricket on your shoulder. Instead of giving up when you'd failed to do something, you just keep going. As one of my friends says, it's never to late to stop going down "that road".

I feel like I get caught up in the all or nothing mentality a lot. If I'm procrasinating about getting something done, instead of just getting on with it, I'll start getting angry at myself that I haven't started it sooner. What a waste of time. The two-day rule is a good antidote. It doesn't allow you to keep going down that dangerous path, but instead, just turning around. Because after all, what's better – exercising every other day or not exercising at all?

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The Great Estrogen Debate

If you're a woman, and also a pre-menopausal woman, there's something you should keep an eye on – estrogen (or oestrogen for you Brits out there). If you're in your 20s or 30s you might be thinking about other things, but keep it in the back of your mind. It's an evolving situation and the implications of what you decide when the time comes might be very big.

Hormone Replacement Therapy (HRT) – taking estrogen to ease some of the unpleasant symptoms of menopause – has been pretty controversial. There was a famous study, back in 2002, called the Women's Health Initiative (WHI), that dramatically was called off three years early because the study concluded that it was too dangerous. The research was a multi-year study, comparing estrogen hormone replacement therapy with a placebo. The women in the study taking estrogen were experiencing more heart trouble than the ones on the placebo and their risk of stroke, blood clots and breast cancer increased dramatically.

Thing is, although most doctors stopped prescribing HRT for their patients at this time, there were some women for whom the estrogen was a lifeline. One such woman is Cynthia Gorney, who recently wrote a New York Times Magazine article about HRT, and who suffered violent mood swings and depressive thoughts when she stopped taking estrogen in the early stages of menopause. (I know you're thinking – does Taron read anything other than the New York Times? Apparently not. But it's really good journalism!)

But what current research is starting to show is that it's when women take HRT that is really relevant. Gorney started taking estrogen when her menopause was beginning, but the average age of the women in the WHI study was 63, and the average time period between their menopause (technically defined as the last mensus) and the start of taking the trial medication was 13.4 years. There are a few other differences as well, including differences in the way the estrogen used in the WHI study was manufactured. It's really too lengthy and complicated to go into in this blog post, but if you want the details or would like to read the whole darn article, click here.

But I'll boil it down for you. The WHI study essentially told all of us women that we should not take HRT well after menopause has technically happened – the study proved that it can increase your risk of stroke, blood clots and breast cancer. But what it hasn't told us is whether HRT is actually not harmful if you do it early enough, and if, in fact, it can be beneficial, particularly for people who experience very severe symptoms.

One study that is looking at this is the Kronos Early Estrogen Prevention Study (KEEPS). It is following more than 600 women and comparing a group that has been post-menopausal for an average of 15 years and has been on estradiol or on a placebo with a second, younger group that is an average of three years post-menopausal. There are lots of other studies on the go as well, including those looking at the effects of estrogen on depression and dementia.

The implications of what these studies could show us are grand, as there are many theories out there that say taking estrogen at the early stages of menopause could help women to retain higher cognitive abilities and may even prevent Alzheimer's, as well as avoid some of the less-palatable side effects of menopause.

Scientists already know that estrogen improves and protects the brain when it is added to healthy tissue, making new cells grow and increasing what's called "plasticity" – or the brain's ability to change. It builds up the density and number of dendritic spines, which are the barbs that stick out along the long tails of brain cells and hook up with other neurons to transmit information. Interestingly enough, the thinning of those spines is a classic sign of Alzheimer's.

But when cells are sick or dying – even due to the natural ageing process – estrogen has the opposite effect. Which explains why it was likely to be so harmful to many of the women in the WHI study. This is one of my more serious blogs – but serious implications, my friends. One to definitely keep on eye on as research develops and we get older.

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I'll Never Be A Morning Person, But…

I am pretty sure I'll never be a morning person (see my post The Magical Life Of The Morning Person). But I am still trying to get up earlier. And I think I've stumbled on the secret: you have to have something to get up for.

After all, there are many parents out there who aren't morning people. But guess what? They have to get out of bed to make sure their children are fed, dressed and generally not neglected. Maybe they don't like it, but they have decided that having children – and happy healthy ones at that – is important to them. They also probably can't sleep through all the wailing.

In recent weeks I've determined that my days aren't exactly long enough. I can't do everything I want to do, plus my full-time job and also write this blog. So I'm attempting to get up 30 minutes earlier than my usual wake-up time. Not incredibly ambitious, but still, it's a big deal for me.

I'm not springing from bed at 6.30 a.m. (quite the contrary), but in the back of my mind I know that I want to get up to have some more time to work on the blog – and it makes me happy to be writing something that's not related to my day job.

Second, I tell myself is that I am not going to feel any better getting up 30 minutes later. And it's true – anytime before 9 a.m. is like hell to me, so even if I were to sleep for another hour, I'm not going to jump out of bed singing and dancing.

And third, there's the promise of Saturday and Sunday and wonderful lazy sleeping in.

But it's still early days. I've had false starts with these sorts of experiments before. I'll keep you posted. In the meantime, any other suggestions for effective ways to get up earlier?

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Baby 19

If there's a way, there's a worry. I wouldn't say I am paralyzed by worry, in fact, it's almost the opposite – I am an extreme worrier, but I do things anyway. But that doesn't mean it's easy.

Here's how I would explain it. No matter how well things are going in my life (and I've been very lucky) I have this low-lying nagging sense that there's something I should be worried about. It's like that horrible feeling that you left the oven on at home. And I often feel like arguing with my brain about it. "Listen brain, why do you insist on thinking there's always something bad right around the corner? Just because that person didn't return your email/phone call/letter doesn't mean it has anything to do with you. Why is it always about you anyway? Can you just relax and enjoy yourself a little?"

So if there's a worry gene, I've definitely got it. Which is why I was incredibly intrigued by an article I read some time ago and forwarded to every anxiety-prone person I know. It details a longitudinal study by a psychology professor at Harvard, Jerome Kagan, to examine whether or not there are people who are predisposed to be anxious. In infancy the participants in the study were observed to see if they were "high-reactors" – essentially whether they freaked out or not when exposed to something new.

The first 18 babies in the study were cool as cucumbers, but Baby 19 became incredibly distressed when she was exposed to new sounds, voices, toys and smells. And the oldest high-reactive subjects in this study, and other studies of the same sort (like Baby 19), are now in their 20s. The article states that "for many of them, no matter how much they manage to avoid looking anxious to an outsider, fears still rattle in their skulls at 3 o’clock in the morning. They remain anxious just below the surface, their subconscious brains still twitchy, still hyper vigilant, still unable to shift attention away from perceived threats that aren’t really there."

This sounded particularly familiar to me. Which got me thinking, was I like Baby 19? I'm sure it would be hard to accurately collect data on whether or not as an infant I freaked out when exposed to new things. In hindsight, people's memories are often very subjective. But there was an incident when I was five years old in kindergarten class. I totally freaked out about a class trip to an ice cream shop. It was a Carvel store (for those New York State readers) and it was one I had been to numerous times with my parents. I remember it distinctly – I was absolutely terrified about going. But I still can't verbalize why. Ice cream really isn't the scariest thing. They had to call my Mom to come get me, but luckily my kindergarten class was actually on the college campus where she was a professor and she knew my teacher pretty well.

Sounds pretty Baby 19-ish to me. As an adult I've dealt with my anxiety in other ways. In fact, I moved countries about eight years ago and despite feeling terrified (and hating it for about the first year) I did it anyway. The article talks about how some people are able to actually harness this nervous energy. I wouldn't say this is true all the time for me – often I find it unharness-able (probably not a word) and something I'd rather not cope with. This is particularly true if I have a lot of free time, which is probably why I make sure I'm pretty busy (which creates other problems). And when I'm busy I like to do things that keep my brain active – to distract it from worrying. Interestingly enough, although some anxious people might find socializing anxiety-inducing, I find it just the opposite. I get to focus on someone else and get outside of my own head.

But the one thing I appreciated most from the article was the fact that it said that maybe this excessive worrying wasn't actually my fault – perhaps I'm pre-disposed. Which was a bit of a relief. Because there's nothing worse than trying not to worry and others around you telling you to chillax, like you mean to be this way. Sometimes it's not that simple.

The article is from the New York Times Magazine, so it's super long, but if you have any interest in the area, or suspect you may be a Baby 19, click here to read it.

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Greener Grass

I have lived in the UK for over eight years. There are things I love about this country. But I still don't completely understand the weather obsession. OK, maybe I understand it, but it can be irritating. I know it's a good small-talk starter. And some people might even go so far as to say Brits love to complain. However, on the contrary, I believe that when it comes to the weather, Brits are actually incredibly optimistic.

Often when I'm talking to someone and they're beating up on the weather as usual, I actually comment that, you know... the weather isn't that bad in this country. Winters are much milder than where I'm originally from (US East Coast) and summers are much less sweltering. You can practically wear the same wardrobe all year! (Actually, that's not true. Coats are a real problem here – you need about seven different kinds – including a summer jacket that doesn't look ridiculously wintery but still keeps you warm when you are at summer barbeques.)

So when I ask my fellow adopted countrymen and women what kind of weather it is that they would like, they say, "Oh, about 21 degrees and sunny." For those American readers, this is room temperature, about 70 degrees Fahrenheit. So what they want, in fact, is not a hotter climate, like in continental Europe, but a perfect climate. Those Brits, the eternal optimists.

What they don't understand is you get the bad along with the good. If you want some perfect predictable sunny weather during the cooler months of the year, then you usually pay in the summertime with incredibly hot temperatures where the sun is beating down and you have to run for a pool or an air conditioned building. Or, if just want warm sunny summers, like on the European continent, you get much colder freezing winters.

The British Isles could use a little more sun, I'll give them that. But otherwise, people should try to appreciate what they have here instead of longing for the perfect life. I do get homesick for the hot summers of my childhood where I could be outside all the time, riding my bike and going to the town pool or running through the lawn sprinkler. But that's a fantasy too – I don't exactly yearn for my adult days in New York City, walking to the subway only to be drenched in sweat by the time I got to work.

My point is that the grass isn't always greener. Just like there is no perfect weather, there is no perfect life. I think envy is a pretty common thing these days (and probably always has been). Other people's lives can often seem so much better, if not absolutely perfect from the outside, but the reality is we don't often get to see below the surface.

I often wonder if it would be better if people were more willing to air their dirty laundry. I was talking to one friend about it and she said that we can't do that all the time – that we have to play certain roles within our lives, like at work, for instance. I think that's true, but there's definitely something to be said for being open about the things we experience and sharing them with others so we can all feel more connected. I was reading an interview of actress Shelia Hancock in the Sunday Telegraph Magazine and she talks about the memoir she wrote about her late husband John Thaw after he passed away. She said, "When I was writing I thought people would be interested in our lives as actors. What I didn’t get was that the grief would be what readers related to."

We all experience similar things in life -- grief, sadness, stress, but also joy. By sharing our experiences with others we might just gain a greater understanding of ourselves as well.

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The Long Game

Hurting my back has brought back a lot of bad memories. Although I know that it's a "traumatic" injury instead of a "repetitive" one – like my neck/shoulders – and will heal much more quickly with far less effort, it still dredges up the frustration and stress of being injured. (Click here to read about what happened to my back.)

I'm not sure how everyone thinks of themselves, but before I got injured I didn't think too much about myself as a whole physical being. So much of our self-perception comes from our brains – we are thinking creatures. But the reality is that we are extremely physical as well. Perhaps we've strayed too far from our animal past, that we forget we are not just little thought bubbles bobbing around without bodies.

Anyone who has been really ill probably understands exactly what I'm talking about. Until you've experienced chronic pain or illness you don't realize how much you should appreciate good health. I'm very lucky, however. I found a physiotherapist (a physical therapist for American readers) who had a method that allowed me to get better. And although I'm biologically at a disadvantage, being hypermobile (scientific-speak for very flexible), my hypermobility is not pathological – meaning there are some people for whom it's actually like a disease. They are so flexible that they cannot build up enough strength to prevent injury.

Last night I felt really mopey. I was exhausted and needed to rest so took myself out of the game, like I sometimes need to do. Going home straight after work and doing my back exercises while watching TV, I felt sorry for myself that I couldn't be doing an aerobics class or be out with friends. I think I feel more down, and anxious generally, when I'm not able to do much exercise. But the truth is that I have to be fit for the long game. If I want to be able to do the activities I enjoy at some point, then I've got to put the work in now to fix my back. I was strong enough to do things I wanted to do before and I'll be strong enough again. But sometimes my brain forgets.

It would be nice to have a quick fix, but hey, it would be nice to have a quick fix for most annoying/difficult things in life. Sometimes what I do is just allow myself to wallow for a bit (what a good friend of mine calls "having a pity party") before realizing things will be OK and I'll get through it. (Also, last night, a few episodes of MasterChef really helped cheer me up -- click here to read my post on MasterChef and perfectionism).

I'm interested to hear if you have any solutions for getting yourself out of the quick-fix mindset. And do you have a good tool for dealing with feeling down and mopey about a problem with no easy solution?

2

The Art Of Walking

Walking doesn't have the same cache as running. But it's just as good – in fact, I think it can be better, for at least some people. This blog, and my philosophy, is all about making the choices that are best for you, and not others. But here's some food for thought on why you might want to give walking, the poor cousin of the exercise world, more of a chance.

Personally, walking has given me moments of sanity. When I was in physiotherapy for an extended period of time, one of the things I had to do was stop all exercise besides walking (and of course the physio exercises). Because you are treating a muscle imbalance, if you go out and do lots of high-impact exercise, you will automatically use the muscles which are overly strong and they will never atrophy. Instead, you have to build up the weak muscles using very specific exercises while allowing the ones that are too strong to get weaker.

But walking I could do. Granted, it was frustrating that it was all I was allowed to do, but going for a walk is good on many levels. It's good exercise, for one, and when you walk you are doing something slowly and deliberately enough to work on your posture. I am currently hunting around for a good book on walking and posture to review on the blog, so stay tuned.

Many people say that walking is a way that they gather their thoughts or work on problems in their life. Naturalist John Muir said that "In every walk with nature one receives far more than he seeks." I'm not sure if he meant blog topics, but I usually have a new idea for a post after the 10-minute walk home from the station each evening.

And walking with a friend is a great way to have a good talk. I read about a therapist who did sessions with clients while walking together because the clients were much more willing to delve beneath the surface of their lives while in motion. Once I spent a great afternoon walking and talking with a friend while we meandered all over Regent's Park. Much more enjoyable than just sitting in some coffee shop – and the scenery kept changing.

I used to listen to music while I walked, but these days I like to open my eyes and really "see" everything around me. There are so many times we're on autopilot. But of course there's no right way, and sometimes when you want your walk to be really good sweaty exercise there's nothing better than some fast-paced music.

People think they walk a lot, but when pedometers were all the rage, I heard about people strapping them on and realizing they actually took a lot less steps than they thought they did. Doing a 30-minute walk every day can be enough to get the health benefits of exercise (it's a much longer walk than you think, my friends).

And walking is something you can keep doing as you get older since it is so kind to your body. Before we took my Grandmother to Israel she trained for the extra walking by taking a 30-minute walk each day. When we did a 3-hour tour of Jerusalem I think I was more tired than she was at the end of it (she's 93, by the way).

Pretty much everyone can do it, it works as a solitary activity and in groups, and it sounds appealing in all seasons. There's the warm sunny afternoon walk through the summer countryside. But there's also the after-Christmas dinner walk in the icy cold night-time air, peeping into all the houses lit up inside and out. Walking is the open arms of exercise.

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Having It All

A few weeks ago, I stumbled on a write up of a very interesting woman in the New York Times. Lisa Lillien, also known as 'Hungry Girl', authors a free daily e-mail newsletter which offers advice on how to consume as few calories as possible while still filling up on American junk food favorites such as Buffalo wings and Fritos. You can read the NYT article by clicking here (although you may have to register to get free access).

I applaud Hungry Girl's business acumen. She has a ready audience of (mostly?) women who are being told they need to be thin to be happy, and yet are probably still hungry for something – perhaps food? – after years of trying to diet. And what's better than a plate of nachos with a low-sin quotient? I think this might be the time to mention that one of her recipes is called "Nacho-rific Stuffed Chicken," made with General Mill's Fiber One cereal.

But I think Lillien misses the point. I understand the urge to seek out pleasure. And food, in our modern society, is a quick, cheap path to it. In this case, Lillien is answering our prayers to have it all. The rush we get from sugar and fat, but also, magically, "healthy" food, due to the extra fiber content, or at least lower in calories than you might think.

I was reading an Agatha Christie book last week for my book club (A Murder is Announced) and there's a scene where one of the servants crafts an amazingly rich and decadent cake called Delicious Death. This cake plays a role in the murder plot, of course, but I was amused as all the characters suffered great indigestion and hangover after eating such overly rich cake. There were headaches and early bedtimes for all the guests at the party in 1930s England.

I'm not saying we shouldn't eat decadent chocolate cake. We should – and we should enjoy it (and take an aspirin for the post-cake headache if necessary). But when we try to eat our cake and have it too, I think it's time to examine what it is that we are actually hungry for.

When we try to have it all, sometimes we end up with less. I admit I can be particularly guilty of the more-is-more philosophy. But I'm trying to learn that I don't have to keep seeking more and more to be happy and that it's often the more simple things that can give us the most pleasure.

One thing I love about England is the quality of the berries in the summertime – strawberries, blueberries and raspberries. I love to eat them just on their own, they are so sweet and delicious. It's OK to eat junk food. But why settle for low-cal tasteless versions of the real thing? Hungry Girl's philosophy of constantly trying to have it all – which is, of course, impossible – could mean that we just might miss out on the simple pleasure of fresh fruit.

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Silly Stress

Although life can be wonderful at times, it also has the habit of being incredibly messy and stressful. People get sick, hearts get broken and jobs end. Much of life is utterly uncontrollable and sometimes you just have to sit there in your little rubber life raft trying not to fall off while the waves keep on knocking you around and sometimes even crashing over your head.

However. There are some bits of life where stress can be avoided. Hey, sometimes we even go so far as to create the stress ourselves. I like to call this silly stress.

Recently I stumbled on two areas of this in my own life. I'll share them with you – even though it's somewhat weirdly personal (don't worry, it's not about underwear). Maybe it might help you to have a think, be your own expert, and see if there's any silly stress you can strip away from your own life.

There is some silly stress in my day-to-day life that I can't quite figure out an easy answer to. In this category falls my problem with mornings (see my post The Magical Life Of The Morning Person). I just know if I could get going earlier and be at my desk before 9 a.m., I'd be a much calmer sort of Snow White-singing-with-the-forest-animals sort of lady. But alas, I've worked hard on that one and it's still a work in progress.

But I've recently realized that opening my wallet to find it devoid of cash except for some pennies and a Croatian coin of some unknown value makes me really stressed. I know with debit cards (particularly with the PIN system in the UK) we don't really need much cash anymore. But having cash makes things easier. Whether it's trying to split a bill without waiting for 10 people to enter their PIN numbers at a restaurant, or taking a taxi home from central London late at night without having to face the rigmarole of asking the driver to find a cash machine while he looks at you with dagger eyes, it's just less stressful to have the cash on you. And there's always that situation where you are having your friend's parents over for dinner and the running water is turned off (due to some electricity outage in London) AND the minced beef you were going to use has turned a dark shade of brown. So you have to order out food from the Korean barbeque place instead. It's just nice to have the cash to pay for it so you don't have the embarrassment of borrowing the money from one of your guests. It's silly, I know, but it's still stress.

So now when I see my cash is running a bit low, I just go to a cash machine and take out more money than I think I actually need for the rest of the week or whatever. It makes me feel happy and prepared (I'm so sad, I know). Please don't come and rob me though, because in England it's harder to get a gun so I'd probably fight back. Because of my small size I could get you around the knees and knock you off your center of gravity.

The other thing I've noticed is that I cause myself no end of stress by deciding what to wear to parties, events, weekend barbeques, etc. only 30 minutes or so before it's time to leave.

Then, when I'm putting on the fabulous outfit I've assembled (in my mind of course), I suddenly I realize it has been eaten into rags by giant moths over the winter or it doesn't fit or it actually makes me look like a 12-year-old (I kid you not – a very unsuccessful H&M buy – I must have been running a fever that day).

These clothing try-on situations have been made even worse recently because of the unusually hot summer in England. Usually my clothing choices don't vary much from season to season here, but this year it's not been necessary to wear tights or scarves in the summer, so I've been thrown into a panic over all wardrobe choices, especially with all the impromptu barbeques people have been throwing.

A few weeks ago for one of these said barbeques, I decided to actually assemble my outfit shortly after I got up in the morning, when I was just putting my clothes on for the day. It involved just as much teeth gnashing and wailing, and I even got Future Hub involved in all the fun action, but when the decision had been made, I took the clothes off, folded them up and put them on the bed for later when I would get ready to go.

It was bliss. When I left the house, I was on time, relaxed and actually remembered everything I had to bring. A much better state of mind to arrive at a party, I must say.

So there you go, silly, but hopefully helpful in some way. I didn't really set out to change either of these things but for some reason the hardest part was actually recognizing that something was causing me stress. Fixing them was the easy part.

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