How to Rest

January 27, 2023February 1, 2023 | Rebecca Gibson

I’m always looking for ways to restore my wonky work-life balance. We’re all capable of working too hard, but I often teeter on the edge of burnout and as a freelancer I really feel the pressure of having all my responsibilities on my own shoulders. Also, when your home and office are the same place, it’s far too easy to blur the boundaries between work and rest spaces, making switching off even harder.

My mental state is constantly lifting and dipping and this winter has been one of the dips. I’ve struggled to be inspired and have felt exhausted at times, despite sleeping well. I throw myself whole-heartedly into my work, but then it ends up taking over and my body has to force me to stop.

I was messaging my good friend Jeni about this recently and she sent me a post by Nicola Jane Hobbs, who’s a stress and rest researcher. Nicola defines rest as “anything that makes our nervous systems feel safe enough to switch off our stress responses so our minds and bodies can move into a state of recovery, restoration and growth.”

There are many different types of rest and Nicola says we should match them to the kind of stress we’re feeling: “I like to ask myself: What type of stress have I experienced today? What kind of rest do I need? If we’ve been in a loud, overstimulating environment, we can offer ourselves sensory rest with loose clothing and gentle music. If we’ve been busy all day working through our to-do lists, playful rest – romcoms, board games, making pizzas – will help us recover.”

This really resonated with me because my concept of rest had been purely physical. I consider myself lucky that I’m a heavy sleeper, but sleep is only one of the ten distinct types of rest that Nicola outlines in her post:

Physical rest – sleep, stretching, mindful movement
Mental rest – non-thinking activities eg baking, gardening
Emotional rest – crying, journaling, sharing rather than suppressing
Psychosocial rest – hugs, solitude, intimacy
Sensory rest – soothing scents, loose/cosy clothes, silence
Spiritual rest – meditation, prayer, rituals
Creative rest – drawing, reading, cake decorating
Playful rest – anything fun and unproductive eg watching films, board games
Ecological rest – walking, wild swimming, car-free days
Altruistic rest – giving without expecting anything in return eg volunteering, random acts of kinds

As much as I try to move away from my to-do list and take breaks, it doesn’t happen as often as it should. Rest isn’t indulgent. It’s not generic either, and should be tailored to our needs.

A big problem area for me is my eyes. If I’d been born a century earlier, I’d have written my book on a typewriter or even by hand. Instead, I spend the majority of each working day staring at a screen and have the headaches to prove it. Using Nicola’s model, I should increase the amount of sensory rest I get, so one of my resolutions for 2023 is to take more breaks with my eyes closed, use a heat mask, and write more by hand. It’s slower, but kinder to my eyes and so much more fulfilling.

Mental health is as important as physical health and I’m pleased it’s gaining more awareness in mainstream media, but there’s still not enough. Making little lifestyle changes like focussing on different types of rest is a way of integrating mindfulness into our daily routines.

I hope you find these tips as useful as I did. Some day maybe I’ll take my own advice and look after myself a little better. One step at a time!

A Breath of Icy Air

March 15, 2022March 7, 2023 | Rebecca Gibson

I’m currently writing my first book. It’s a Slow Travel Guide to northeast Scotland, which will be published in spring 2023. The book covers Aberdeenshire, Moray and the Cairngorms National Park, so basically a huge chunk of the country! My daily routine has become a contrasting blend of emailing accommodation providers, walking, writing copious notes and staring at maps until my head swims.

This is the biggest project I’ve undertaken so far and it’s very easy to get lost in the Big Picture. I’m learning the key is to break it down into chunks. Each field research trip is a week long and during those weeks I have a list of castles, stone circles, museums and reserves to visit.

I need to be as thorough and detailed as possible, so when the book is written it will read as though I’m giving a guided tour to someone wearing a blindfold. I’ve never written in this much meticulous depth before and it’s a rewarding challenge. During my master’s degree I was told to ‘show don’t tell’. With a Slow guide, it’s a case of including heaps of both.

Because the project is all-encompassing, other things have slipped into the background, including this blog. When I was studying for my undergraduate degree I had a delicious amount of time on my hands. My blog was abuzz with updates because it’s all I had going on outside of my assignments. What simpler days they were! Now everything I write has a destination – nothing is free just to keep the blog ticking over.

I’ve struggled with work/life balance for years. For me work has a nasty habit of becoming life. If I go for a walk I’m thinking about new places I could include in the book or looking for new photos to share to Instagram. Last year this took me close to burnout. Wildlife was everywhere I looked and for a while it lost its charm. Something I had grown so attached to had become almost a chore and I hated that I’d let that happen.

I think this is something all freelancers have to deal with. Working from home has lots of benefits but it also means your office is your home, and switching off takes real effort.

Sunrise on the road to Pennan, Aberdeenshire

Recently I’ve taken up ice skating again. I used to love skating when I was younger but because I didn’t know anyone else who could do it, I eventually stopped going. Luckily I had yeti feet as a child and they haven’t changed in the last ten years so my old ice skates still fit me.

There’s a rink in my local town that I didn’t even know about so I had a go. Obviously I was rusty at first, and the fear of falling on my tailbone (here I speak from painful experience) held me back. But with each visit I got comfortable quicker and now it’s become a passion again.

I’m by no means an expert – I skate for the sensation, which is the closest to flying I’ll get with my feet still on the ground. I find it so therapeutic, almost meditative, and better yet it doesn’t require any screens. My dry eyes get a break and I get lost in my thoughts, gliding weightlessly in repetitive circles.

I realised it’s the first true hobby I’ve had in years – something completely unrelated to work that lets me switch off and be in the current moment for a change.

When the weather warms up I’ll return to sea swimming too. I started this last year and experienced similar benefits to skating – no screens, no social media, just my own thoughts and a sensation of floating. Maybe it’s significant that my two forms of escape are different states of water.

I’m hugely proud of this book commission and I know that the moment I hold the finished product in my hands, every minute of stress and fatigue will be worth it. However, to reach that point I need to care for myself. I haven’t been very good at that in the past, but I’m learning.

Mindful Creative Retreat – Day 3

September 8, 2021May 3, 2022 | Rebecca Gibson

For the last day of the mindful creative retreat, we began in Burgie Arboretum. The grass was soaked with dew and I soon regretted not bringing my wellies!

Still, fungi loves damp ground and we soon spotted one of my favourites: amethyst deceivers. These lovely mushrooms are bright purple, and in contrast to the usual rule of colourful mushrooms being inedible or even poisonous, amethyst deceivers are often foraged. Apparently they have a mildly nutty flavour and keep their bright colour when cooked.

Later in the day we explored a small loch just outside Forres. This session was my favourite of the whole retreat. I sat for hours among the Scots pines, admiring the carpet of heather and bracken.

I was treated to several wildlife encounters. A brave wren appeared only a few feet away, flashing its stubby tail. It did what wrens do best: scream and shout and stick its bum in the air! This one was great fun to photograph.

Shortly after, a brown shape caught my eye and I glanced up to see a buzzard sweeping through the trees. It perched in a very convenient gap for photos. Knowing how skittish these birds can be around people, I felt privileged to see it resting.

Finally a flash of movement on the ground caught my eye and when I eventually found it I realised it was a teeny tiny frog. The afternoon was full of surprises – while walking is a great way to encounter wildlife over distance, certain wonders just won’t happen unless you slow down to a complete stop.

Just before dinner, we gathered by the loch and did some more breath work, led by Jen. I wasn’t sure if I’d notice any changes from Monday but I could actually breathe a lot deeper than I did in the first session. I liked to think it was the calming effects of the retreat, which had turned out to be a huge success.

Have a read of what happened on day one and day two here.

Mindful Creative Retreat – Day 2

September 4, 2021May 3, 2022 | Rebecca Gibson

Day one of the Mindful Creative Retreat was a huge success and I was looking forward to kicking off day two with my own writing workshop. We met outside Roseisle Forest in Burghead and spent the morning wandering along winding trails within the 1700 acre Scots pine woodland. It was a boiling hot day so we kept to the shade beneath the trees.

For me, good nature writing uses all the senses. Although describing sights is the most obvious, incorporating sounds, smells and textures really brings a piece to life. I encouraged everyone to look down as well as up, noticing the way the sun shines on spiderwebs and pinecones scuff underfoot.

I was pleased to see the fungi in Roseisle was already abundant – a welcome reminder that autumn is nearly here. Beside every tree was a fungus of some sort, varying widely in colour, size and shape. We spent a lot of the morning crawling around on the ground getting photos!

As well as fungi, we found a small wood ant nest right by the path. These red and black insects play an important role in the forest ecosystem, helping with seed dispersal, hunting damaging pests and acting as a food source for badgers and pine martens. Wood ants also provide a parasite removal service for birds, which deliberately scratch the surface of the nest to encourage the ants to spray their feathers with formic acid. This kills the birds’ parasites!

By midday the sun was scorching so we headed to the beach for a paddle. After cooling down, we sat on the sand to write about the morning’s discoveries.

By evening the temperature had cooled and we met up in Hopeman for a walk along the coast. We were lucky enough to have another gorgeous sunset, which lit up the beach and turned the cliffs to gold. There were plenty of juicy blackberries to be plucked and we stopped for a rest in a sheltered cove. Here we enjoyed some rock pooling and I found some tracks in the sand. They were too big for rats so I guessed mink, which I’ve occasionally seen darting over the rocks.

We explored the cove until 9pm when the sun eventually set. Golden colours blended to corals and crimsons and we watched the exact moment the sun disappeared beyond the horizon. Jen commented that it was a special thing to witness because it was a rare occasion you could see the earth turning.

And so we reached the end of another full-on but rewarding day on the retreat. The third and final day featured even more creativity and mindfulness. Coming soon!

Mindful Creative Retreat – Day 1

September 1, 2021May 3, 2022 | Rebecca Gibson

Last week I took part in my first ever retreat. Back in June I met Kim Grant from Visualising Scotland when she attended my event in the Moray Walking and Outdoor Festival. Afterwards, she invited me to run a writing workshop in her upcoming Mindful Creative Retreat in Moray. Also helping out was Jen Price from Mindful Routes. I’d just got back from a six week trip to England so the retreat came at the perfect time for easing me back into the wild Scottish landscape I’d missed all summer.

The retreat began in beautiful Forres. As well as writing down our intentions for the next few days, Jen led us through some breathwork exercises. Several ladies in the group had yoga experience so were used to noticing their breathing. I, on the other hand, was a complete beginner so initially found it challenging to ‘belly breathe’ from the diaphragm. One of my intentions for the retreat was to notice my breathing more and to hopefully see a change in it.

After a peaceful morning session we walked back through the forest, listening to woodpeckers and spotting fungi and red squirrels along the way.

In the afternoon we had lunch at Logie Steading and visited Randolph’s Leap – a dramatic river surging through a hilly valley just outside Forres. Kim led us on a mindful photography walk, encouraging us to experiment with light and notice how the water changed from crashing to standing still at different points along the river.

After breaking for dinner, we met in the evening at Findhorn, where the sky tempted us with silky clouds and hinted at an impressive sunset. Here we did some more mindful photography. Kim asked us to explore different parts of the beach and take more creative images. I loved inspecting the barnacles and mussels attached to the rocks exposed by low tide.

The evening was so lovely we had a sea swim! Seeing the scarlet sunset rippling on the water while actually in the water was a totally new perspective. Oystercatchers flew over our heads and terns dived just a few metres away.

Swimming at sunset was such a peaceful and mindful way to end the first day of the retreat. Have a read of what happened on day two here!

The Whisper of a Stream

May 4, 2021May 4, 2021 | Rebecca Gibson

Once restrictions were eased in Scotland and I was given a precious piece of freedom to venture outside of my county of Moray, I planned a day trip to the Cairngorms. One of my favourite sounds is the whisper of a stream in a forest – it’s the epitome of fairytale magic for me. So when I arrived at Inshriach Forest on the western flank of the Cairngorm plateau and heard that incredible sound, I made a beeline for it. I passed other people heading up a rocky hill trail that would take them into the mountains. But I’m more forest sprite than mountain goat – my place is at ground level.

Inshriach is part of one of the Cairngorms National Park’s eight National Nature Reserves. As well as ancient Caledonian pinewood it contains mountainous and heather moor habitats too. Scottish rarities such as crossbills, red squirrels and crested tits are found there. There’s also the possibility of seeing golden eagles over the mountains, but I had my eyes on the ground rather than the sky.

A trodden grass trail broke away from the main track and I followed it, only briefly distracted by chaffinches and a characteristically vocal wren. The sound grew louder until eventually I was close enough to see the water sparkling in the bright sun. It was gorgeous. Allt Ruadh it was called – a tributary of the River Feshie.

Dumping my rucksack, I knelt at the edge and dipped a hand. Just as icy as I suspected. I always feel an urge to swim in wild water or at least wade knee-deep, but even with the sun it was far too cold for me on this occasion. Still, just to see and hear all that stirring water was a treat. I settled on the bank and crossed my fingers for dippers.

I spent several hours there, reminded of the time only by my rumbling stomach. As I leant back against the rocks with my soup flask and watched the rapids churn up white froth, my gaze caught on a flash of yellow. A grey wagtail! It was standing in the centre of the river, bobbing its tail and fluttering from rock to rock. After examining each one around me, it flew to the top of a Scots pine and began to sing. I’ve seen many different birds using treetops as a singing perch but never a wagtail, so it was both a surprise and a privilege. Its song was so loud I could hear it above the stream.

I suppose this is how I meditate. I can’t sit in a lotus pose, close my eyes and listen to drum music – my mind just wanders to deadlines and errands. But if I disappear into the wild and fill every one of my senses with nature, I forget all the admin and sink into the closest meditative state I can manage. It helps if there’s no service because it means my phone is useless. Having no connection to the material world could be scary I suppose, but if I stay safe and pack accordingly I can enjoy complete solitude and peace, if only for a morning.