I literally (although, not really literally) cannot swing a cat at the moment without hitting a blog post about mindfulness, mental health or self love.
I cannot browse Instagram without scrolling past a dozen pictures of someone sat cross-legged on a rock or posing in what I can only presume is the ‘downward facing dog’.
All this self
indulgence love has got me thinking, either we are all so stressed by our daily routines, we are burning ourselves out or… The art of of taking yourself quietly to the back room and screaming into a pillow is dead.
And honestly, I don’t know anybody who is that stressed.
I mean, yeah, you may be working a full time job, undertaking a part time course in crochet, scheduling your tweets, organising your weekly meal-prep, walking your house rabbit and feeding your succulents which, I know, is a lot.
But, my Nan raised eight children and survived a world war and I never caught her standing on her head, ‘Om’-ing.
I am not really advocating smashing stuff, not valuable stuff anyway. The odd plate never hurt anybody though, I’m sure.
I’m just not sure all of this meditation and self-attention is really all it’s cracked up to be. If anything, the more time I have to think on something, the more neurotic I become. The more I overthink and become embroiled in my own ridiculous, inconsequential thoughts. And before I know it, I have eaten half a tub of Ben & Jerry’s, missed the first half of Made In Chelsea and convinced myself that Boyfriend is in fact a polygamous Mormon.
And nobody wants that.
So, I propose that instead of taking an hour to sit inspecting your thoughts with a magnifying glass, instead of stuffing your anger and frustration to the back of your mind like a spare duvet into an old Asda bag, just let it out.
Just throw a cushion.
Hell, throw a damn glass.
Say what you need to say.
We seem to think that it isn’t socially acceptable to shout, that it is bad form, that we should all tut and shake our heads quietly at shouters.
Well, I shout when I’m angry. And I’ve been known to go for long periods of time without a phone… And, do you know what the best feeling in the world is?
The clarity that follows saying how you really feel.
I feel like John Coffee after he’s coughed up all those flies. Like, once the tirade of expletives have been released I am physically lighter, practically floating.
I am a picture of serenity.
So, next time you find yourself keeping mum or popping something in the meditation bank, don’t. Just say it, shout it, scream it from the rooftops. Because keeping things inside is not going to resolve them. These things will only build and intensify and there is only so long that you can shrug on a pair of yoga pants and pretend that everything is okay.