A day in the life of a soggy brochure

I was outside again today; dripping wet. And you know something else? I fear for my survival; I really do. I’ve glimpsed others like me, thrown unceremoniously in the bin without any regard whatsoever. That could happen to me. I just know it. And it seems so wrong really. It certainly isn’t my owner’s fault. She so carefully placed me in a protective bag, lovingly put a friendly note and order slip into my glossy pages and I could sense her hope when she slipped me through a letterbox. She was so tired; she’d walked miles with my brothers and sisters, delivering them through similar letterboxes and occasionally very hostile humans would grimace at her, even shout abuse. One actually slapped my brother onto the top of a car! I don’t envy her her job, if you can call it that. I mean, she spends hours preparing my relatives and myself for others to view our pages, then she goes and collect us and most of the time (and this is just between you and me, mind) we’d hardly even been looked at. My older sister got munched by a dog! My baby brother actually got used in a bathroom and I have never seen many of my brothers and sisters again. I can only imagine what awful atrocities they faced.

I sympathise with my owner. I have watched her sigh with disappointment when she flicks through us to see if a customer has filled in our order slips. She has to have a certain amount of orders to earn anything and she looks so dejected when she realises that yet again she hasn’t earned even a penny. All that work and no reward. It makes me so angry when I think of the people who created me. They certainly aren’t short of a bob or two!

I wish with all my heart that she would give it up. Maybe then I could reside in a bookcase or perhaps on a table. I really wouldn’t mind being jammed between paperwork or for my glossy surface to be adorned with coffee mug circles; it has to be better than what I think fate has in store for me. I’m very lucky, I know, that I haven’t been lost already. I have been delivered three times in total and all those occasions I was left outside for my owner to collect me. I can recall her gazing at me with relief. At least me being outside meant she didn’t have to ring the doorbell and receive a torrent of abuse.

She has to pay for me, you know, and my brothers and sisters. That certainly cuts into her nonexistent commission. Daylight robbery! We are only used once and then disposed of, unless we are very lucky and she keeps us to refer to.

Then it takes time for my owner to put any orders through online, even more time to put the products together and then off she trots again, only to face the same chaos similar to when she picked up my relatives; people aren’t in, they haven’t got the money, they will never have the money, they have gone to Africa, the dog ate their money, they have suddenly realised they are actually allergic to what my owner is selling, they are allergic to my owner, they’ve gone to prison and they won’t be back for a few weeks; and she smiles graciously and reassures them that she will return for more punishment the following week.

She has exploited all means of earning extra cash such as giving us out to pubs, colleges, hairdressers, prisons, fire stations and strip clubs...

She smiles constantly (in fact her face is frozen in that way now; she looks a little like Jim Carrey on a bad day) and she is bubbly and friendly but I know she feels conned by the company she ‘works’ for; she’s not really self employed; she is their lowly paid, downtrodden slave.

I think she’s beginning to realise that persisting with this venture is as pointless as granny using age defying cream to rid her of her deeply embedded wrinkles...but will she give it up, I ask you? With the shortage of jobs around, does she have a choice?

All I know is that it is pelting down with rain again and I realise that no one will be able to look at me now; I’ve lost my glossy look, my pages are all stuck together and I await with a dismal, pathetic expression on my very faded, colour run face for my owner to pick me up and take me home where its warm and dry.

But I get a feeling that today is the day she’s decided to give it up and I’m happy for her, but not for me. I’m not happy for me, not when there is a dog coming my way; a dog that looks keen to take his revenge out on the products that used to be within my pages that were tested on animals at some point...my fate wasn’t what I thought it was going to be after all...

The End

Ghost Writing Service

I am a writer; currently writing for the Oracle magazine in Plymouth and I have written articles and letters for magazines as well as educational resources. Please contact me if you would like anything written; this can be articles, letters, poems, business papers, academic work and even novels! I am also a qualified proofreader and editor. Just contact me and I will help.

Avon and animal testing

Hoping that people may be interested to learn that Avon buy and use animal tested ingredients. Uncaged, who are an animal welfare organisation, have reliably informed me. They actually drive the demand for new animal tested ingredients and they put much effort into misleading people about their stance.
I suggest boycotting their products. They never have been a good company, despite all their advertising.
Don't buy from them.

Memories

It was Christmas Day of 1985 and the lights twinkled on the Christmas tree while the brightly covered packages below invited delight and curiosity. I stood for quite a while gazing at the tree and the presents, allowing the magic of Christmas to wash over me. Even though I’d reached the grand old age of 15 years, Christmas continued to enchant me. A part of me still believed in Father Christmas and our family seemed closer, united in celebration, more tolerant and contented. I loved this time of year.

I returned to my pink decorated bedroom and smiled at all my presents in the large pillow case at the bottom of my bed. I was eager to see what they were but I was waiting for my brother to join me. We always opened our presents together. I could hear him shuffling towards my room and giggled when he finally opened my door and emerged out of breath. “Come on, hurry, “ I urged him, “It’s time,”

“I know, I know,” he replied, struggling to lift his pillow case onto my bed, “This is heavy,”

I gazed at his presents with awe, “Crikey, I wonder what you have in there,”

“Let’s find out, shall we?” he replied, glancing at me with green sparkling eyes, “I’ve waited ages for this,”

“A whole year,” I smirked, pulling my pillow case up on to the bed, next to his, “Okay, shall we start together?”

“Hush,” my brother suddenly looked concerned and I listened. We could hear crying.

“What is it?” I asked with alarm.

My bedroom door opened and our mother came in with our father who was holding her upright. I searched my father’s face for an idea of what was wrong and when he spoke the world around me came tumbling down. “It’s Grandma,” he muttered as our mother sobbed, “She died. Early this morning,”

I heard my brother gasp and sink onto my bed. I stood rock still, unable to react, incapable of feeling anything but shock.

“But why?” I whispered.

The question lingered in the air and couldn’t be answered. Christmas was over before it had begun.

Richard, my 17 year old brother, coped by wanting Christmas to continue. I knew how much he loved Grandma but I dealt with the situation by drifting off into my own private dream world. Our poor mother; whose own mother had died, probably thought we didn’t care but we did, very much. However, being young, I had yet to learn how grief could affect me and stay with me for many years to come...

I loved my Grandma very much. When I was experiencing bullying at school I turned to her. She listened and empathised. She promised we would have a midnight feast one night and forgave me when I forgot to wake up. I spent many hours talking to her when she fell and cracked her ribs making her bed bound. How I must have bored her! When she was better, we had a wonderful time together one year by the sea with her sister, my great aunt, and I knew these memories would never fade. However, I was unable to express my emotions to my family and I became immersed in my own isolated world. I confided in no one but I made an exception for Sebastian. Sebastian was our family dog and I felt I had a special bond with him. Every Christmas he and I pulled a cracker together. I’d take one end of the cracker and he thought it was a game and would gently pull the other end with his teeth. Then when the cracker banged he would jump up at me with excitement and try to rush off with the contents with me dashing after him!

Christmas of 1985 I found Sebastian to be subdued. He didn’t want to pull a cracker. He loved Grandma too. I spent many hours with him, stroking his soft fur and gazing into his chocolate brown eyes. He understood what I felt and how when I heard my mother sobbing I just couldn’t go and comfort her. Demonstrations of affection were lacking in our family and I felt very awkward and confused. My father walked around with a grim expression on his face and my brother argued with my mother when he wanted to open his presents. I stayed on my own; thinking and wishing. I knew I was never going to forget this Christmas Day.

Many years have gone by now but every Christmas I remember my Grandma. Sometimes, even now, the memories are painful and I long for her and Grandpa to still be in my life. My mother copes by visiting her grave every year and we talk of times gone by. I regret not being able to express how I felt that sad Christmas Day but I know that Grandma understood. In my mind I can take a trip down memory lane and recall events and places with my grandparents that I hadn’t thought about for years. Maturity in some ways has enhanced my loss but I’m glad I remember; my Grandma really was the best in the world.

Have the courage of your convictions

What do you believe in?

Safer roads for your family? Better schools for your children? Cheaper supermarket prices?

Or do you read about the plight of inhabitants of third world countries? Do you worry about cruelty towards animals, long for more knowledge to help the sufferers of terminal illnesses?

Fighting for what you believe in; whether it be standing up to your demanding employer or demonstrating against experimenting on animals, takes courage and fortitude; the kind of bravery that doesn’t flag and the type of spirit that laughs in the face of obstacles. Underlying all this is a steadfast belief that doesn’t falter. What do you believe in? What really makes you want to leap off your soap box and demand change? You can make a difference providing you follow a few golden rules, realise you have the necessary determination and belief to make changes and cultivate an indomitable nature that never ever gives up. Here’s how...

Find out as much as possible about the matter that you feel strongly about. For example if you feel women are under too much  pressure to look young and beautiful then research using the internet and the library to discover any psychological studies that may support your argument and the history of a woman’s desire to improve her appearance. Talk to people who have undergone operations to feel better about their looks and gather as much information as you can to support your claim

� Search for groups and organisations that feel the same way that you do. What are they doing to make changes? For example if you feel there is too much discrimination against mental illness in the workplace then you could visit www.time-to-change.org.uk to find out if you can contribute to the cause

 �Create your own blog or online diary of what you are doing to promote change. Let others know too. If you have a facebook or twitter account, keep everyone updated and urge them to join you. If you find resistance then don’t worry, according to psychology a minority influence can still be powerful, you just have to remain consistent in your views.

� If your passionate cause is closer to home and doesn’t involve saving the world but does mean that you could be on your own in your bid to be listened to; such as informing your employer of something important, tackling your child’s headmaster or realising you need a career change, then gain as much moral support as you can from your family and friends. Studies have shown that a support network can get us through illness and trauma so enlist as much personal help as possible.

� If your strong belief has a political or social slant, consider contacting your MP. You can air your grievances and discover whether they might be able to help and offer you support. Discuss your ideas of what you would like to do to make the situation better, any research you have done and any other people who can back your claim. Visit http://findyourmp.parliament.uk for more information.

� Fancy banging on the black door of Downing Street with a very long petition supporting your cause? Well, you could do this or you could actually send an e-petition which is considered more stress free. There is a step-by-step guide and everything you need to know if you visit the site of the Prime Minister’s Office at http://petitions.number10.gov.uk e-petitions that receive 100,000 signatures or more will be eligible for debate in parliament!

�If you feel very strongly concerning issues in your area then why not think about becoming a councillor? There are about 20,000 elected councillors in England. You could join them and tell them how you think the future should be and what changes should be made and why. To find out exactly what is involved in being a councillor and whether you have what it takes visit www.beacouncillor.org.uk

�How about taking a leaf out of Susan B Anthony’s  (1820-1906) book? She campaigned against slavery and the promotions of women’s and workers rights. She gave countless speeches to motivate others to join her cause. Could you do the same?

Emmeline Pankhurst (1858-1928) was a British suffragette who dedicated her life to the promotion of women’s rights and Helen Keller (1880-1968) overcame the frustration of losing her sight and hearing to campaign untiringly on behalf of deaf and blind people. What these women had in common was their determination and passionate spirit. You can cultivate this too.

�When the going gets tough and you feel alone in your beliefs, remind yourself of why you wanted to make the situation better in the first place and create small goals that are easy to achieve. Perhaps your ultimate aim is to have a website where people can join and support one another, maybe you are seeking funding for a community project or perhaps you are arranging a peaceful demonstration to show the council how you feel and the journey is long. Don’t give up, remember you will never be alone with how you feel. There will always be someone out there, sharing your dreams of a better future. Find them, keep working at it and one day, you will make an impact on the world!

Footprints in the Snow

Animated chatter and laughter broke the silence. Emily glanced up from her book. Hesitantly she rose, placed another log on the fire and stepped towards the frosted window.

The scene outside brought a smile to her pale, delicate face.  Children were attempting to build a snowman but were becoming immersed in a snowball fight. Their rosy cheeks and sparkling eyes among cheerfully coloured hats, scarves and coats created the perfect Christmas card image. They were tumbling around in the snow, squealing and laughing, and Emily couldn’t help but chuckle at their antics. At one point, a little boy mistakenly kicked the half created snowman, and his snowy head fell to the ground with a thud. The small carrot they’d used for his nose got unceremoniously trodden on and the black buttons to mimic his eyes got lost in the flurry of snow. Emily felt sorry for the semi-built snowman.

She moved away from the window before they saw her and stared intently at the fire she had made earlier. Deep orange flames were darting up the chimney and the room was now cosy and warm, yet Emily longed to be embracing the coldness of the outdoors. She wanted to pull on a thick coat, race outside and leap into the thickly fallen snow. She would show those children how to build a snowman. The thought of crunching snow beneath her feet on her garden path, or scooping it into her hands and letting it fall between her fingers filled her with pleasure. Yet she knew she couldn’t. She knew the moment she opened her door, all the feelings of panic, uncertainty and unreality would flood her and overwhelm her. She was safer inside.

Emily couldn’t really remember when it all began, only that it seemed to have lasted forever. A long time ago when she had been visiting a friend, unpredictable terror had gripped her by the throat, so bad she thought she was bound to faint. She had rushed home, frantic with fear and not even her kind and caring husband could console her. Eventually she calmed down. They had even worked out together that she had felt unwell because she was in the early stages of pregnancy but that knowledge did not quell the anxiety when she stepped outside again. The memory of visiting her friend filled her mind, and trapped her, trapped her inside their house...for the next 10 years.

Emily lost the baby. She didn’t know if the worry and stress had caused her to miscarry but the heartbreak of their loss stayed with her. Her days became a monotony of sadness and anxiety. Joe tried to get her help. A doctor even came to visit; found her to be articulate and bright but fearful and depressed. He recommended small steps into the outside world, ways of changing her thoughts, and medication. She tried them all. They all failed for her. In the last few years she had finally accepted that this was her life. She had no power to change it, it had happened to her and that was that. Looking through their living room window at the magnificent mountains behind their picturesque garden, watching the television and listening to Joe’s stories about his work were her only links to the outside world.

Emily may have given up but her husband hadn’t. He was always coming home with books on agoraphobia, articles he had found on the internet. Her guilt increased as she watched the worry lines deepen around his forehead and her heart ached when she saw hope for a breakthrough shining in his eyes and then die again as he watched her withdraw from him. How she wanted, longed, to give him back his laughing, vibrant wife. But she had left, a long time ago and only a shadow of her former self remained.

Yet the soft falling of snow, the chattering children and the forlorn snowman awakened a yearning deep inside that Emily had tried before to suppress. She wanted to breathe the air and feel the snow melt on her skin. She wanted to come alive. The children had raced off, probably home for their tea. Now was the time. She just wanted to try.

Emily walked steadily towards her front door. She knew she mustn’t think. She knew that if she did, she would never do it. She could feel her heart beating frantically and as she put her hand on the door handle, she saw it tremble so badly that her grasp felt weak. She took a deep breath and almost immediately felt light headed. Her vision altered and took on a surreal appearance and the panic began to build. But at the same time as her heart raced and she gasped for breath, she opened the door involuntarily. It swung away from her, banging back on its hinges, making her sensitised body feel like it was screaming with shock as the outside world swam into fuzzy focus. Instantly, everything was too bright and too loud, smells she hadn’t smelt for so long invaded her nostrils causing her to feel nauseous. The cold air smarted her eyes and smacked against her pallid cheeks, drying out her lips and stopping her from breathing deeply as her lungs contracted against the frozen air. She stood like a statue, paralysed with fear. A single tear ran down her cheek. She couldn’t move and yet everything inside her body was moving too fast. What had she done? She just wasn’t ready. Thoughts tumbled relentlessly through her mind. Joe was going to find her like this; frozen to the spot. People would see her. There had to be something terribly wrong with her this time; she’d never felt this awful before, she was sure. Something really bad was bound to happen. Never  had she experienced terror where she couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. She had to find a way to turn around, to go back indoors, to get over this terrible anxiety, to find a distraction, any distraction, to survive again.

Despite her unbearable fear, a fear that must surely take her away from reality and to another dark world, her eyes dragged to the snowman. He didn’t really look like a snowman anymore. His head had become a crumbled mass of snow. The children had only half heartedly created the body and a few black buttons were scattered about. An image suddenly appeared in Emily’s mind of a jolly snowman complete with a red bobble hat, blue stripy scarf, gold shiny buttons and a pipe. She gulped loudly and then managed to hold the door frame for support. She’d moved, thank goodness, but she was frozen to the core. Perhaps if she stood like this for a while the anxiety would recede. Coldness she could handle. Her eyes were trying to become accustomed to the whiteness of the countryside in front of her. Luckily all was quiet; no one else was around. She hoped fervently it would stay like that until she had at least managed to get a grip on her anxiety; enough to be able to turn around and flee indoors. A surge of panic raced through her again as she realised that she was partially outside. She hadn’t done this in so many years. And her anxiety through doing so was extreme. But was it really any different to when she’d had panic attacks indoors? Her eyes focused on the snow capped mountains beyond her garden. She had stared at them so many times through her  window, with longing. Now she could see them clearly. Their beauty mesmerised her...and her panic eased. Distraction always helped, but this time she was actually partially outside! A sensation she hadn’t felt before suddenly overwhelmed her and she felt herself smile numbly. She actually felt something like joy! It was a developing bubble of pleasure enveloping her and filling her emptiness with warmth. She couldn’t even remember the last time she felt anything like this, if she ever had in her whole life.

New thoughts began to circle her mind. She knew exactly what she wanted to do. She abruptly turned around. She could still feel anxiety in the pit of her tummy and her vision was far from perfect but her legs were no longer weak and her heart not beating quite so fast. She could cope with these sensations. Leaving her door wide open and letting all the heat escape from the house, she climbed the stairs steadily to her bedroom. There she flung open her wardrobe door and her eyes sparkled with excitement. Quickly she removed her thick woollen coat from the back of the wardrobe and gazed at it in wonder. She had forgotten what it looked like! Her breath was emerging in small gasps and her head was pounding but she knew why she felt such feelings and she knew they were anxiety only, and nothing more serious. Eagerly she opened drawers and pulled everything out. She raced downstairs and sped into the kitchen. She knew what she wanted and where to find it.

By the time she had reached her front door, her anxiety had all but gone but now she faced the real challenge. Without wasting another moment, she stepped outside and shrugged off years of isolated unhappiness and despair. She took another couple of steps, breathed in the fresh icy air and glanced behind her as if to remind herself of her past life but only her house stood there, familiar and glowing cheerily in the whiteness of a winter wonderland.

Emily’s feet sunk into the snow and she giggled and looked behind her again but this time it was to see that she was creating fresh, new footprints in the snow. She felt like she was treading on a new world; her brave new world.

She took her time in building her snowman; amazed at her ability to do so. It had been such a long time that she had been able to do anything without there being a hint of a tremble or a gasp of breath, without her head swimming or unreality bursting in and taking her to another world. This time, though, she moulded the snowman’s head without shaking hands and she pressed the gold, shiny buttons into his robust body without her needing any extra breath. She’d forgotten all about feelings of serenity and peace and it made her feel so vital and alive that she laughed out loud. She couldn’t wait for Joe to come home and see what she had achieved. She couldn’t wait to tell him she had joined the world again.

When Emily’s husband returned after a tiring day at work, he dreaded seeing his wife. So often he found her curled up on the sofa, trying in desperation to force her fears away and his heart ached for her. He wanted to take her pain and endure it for her, to smooth away the worry from her face, to take her in his arms and reassure her that the world wasn’t a fearful place. But he knew she had to find this out herself; she had to overcome her frightening memories. He didn’t even know how she’d survived her desperate journey, he was just thankful that she had. He wanted to see her smile again but he had begun to stop hoping.

Until today.

As soon as he opened the door, Emily rushed towards him, her face beaming; her eyes alight with unshed tears. “I did it,” she laughed ecstatically; “I did it!”

She dragged him beaming to the living room window, as he tried to take his coat off in the confusion. He looked at her mystified as Emily jumped up and down like a child in her excitement, gesturing wildly to the garden outside.

For a moment, Joe thought she had gone mad, that all the fear and anxiety she had endured had finally broken her, made her crazy with despair. But as he looked into his wife’s eyes, he saw the spirit there that he thought had gone forever, a sparkle and vitality he thought he’d never see again. A bubble of hope began to rise within him.

“I made the snowman,” she gasped, “I did it on my own, went out there and built it!”

Joe gazed out of the window and saw a fat snowman sitting comfortably on their snowy garden. His long carrot nose was wonky, his multicoloured scarf askew but his gold buttons glinted in the late sun. He was the typical jolly snowman; a wonderful celebration of the festive season.

Joe glanced at his wife and saw a single tear trickle down her cheek and he began to doubt. She hadn’t been outside for 10 years. She was so anxious so much of the time. Sometimes when he just turned the pages of a newspaper it could unsettle her. How could she have gone outside? She was saying this to make him feel better. So that he wouldn’t give up on her. Sorrow filled him. Nothing had changed. He had to be strong for her.

But then he saw the footprints in the snow. They led from their house to the snowman, more than once and around the snowman, but they came from their home! With incredulous delight, he turned to look at his beautiful, clever wife and realised the tear was one of joy as she smiled so happily into his eyes.

“Oh Emily,” he whispered into her hair as he embraced her, “So very brave, how did you do it?”

“I wanted to live again,” she replied, looking again outside, she just couldn’t tear her eyes away, “I realised I wanted that more than all the anxiety that I felt, and the feelings began to subside. It was amazing.”

“You know what this means now, don’t you?” Joe said as he suddenly lifted her up into the air and laughed at her surprised expression, “We can climb the mountains together, one day. We can do all those things we have dreamed of doing.”

“We can,” said Emily, marvelling at how calm she felt as she swung around in his arms to gaze at the snow capped mountains from the window.  They were breathtaking in their glorious beauty and they had been waiting for her to explore them all this time. “And when we do, I will climb the highest mountain and it really will feel like I am on top of the world, just how I feel today.”

And this time, they went outside together and made fresh footprints in the snow.

The End

©  Lana Starbright  2011

Healthy body, healthy mind; a calming journey to fitness

We all know that the mind and body are connected and, as a result, our emotions play a big part in determining our health. Doctors are constantly seeing patients who have symptoms that are related to stress and anxiety and their advice regards relaxation, good diet and exercise (as well as examining the source of the stress).

The immune system can be adversely affected by too much stress and tension has been found to contribute to a variety of illnesses and diseases so perhaps it’s time to endorse; ‘Don’t worry, be happy’ and introduce some calming exercises into your day to help reduce the tension of your hectic lifestyle.

Physical exercise is one of the most effective ways of relieving stress. Exercising the body regularly is very successful in managing stress, on its own or as a part of a stress management plan. Getting into better shape improves your mental health as well as your physical health.
When we physically exert ourselves, the body releases chemical substances (endorphins) that are similar in nature to opiates. These natural substances produced by our own bodies are free of side effects, except for making us feel good.
When it comes to stress management, every little bit of exercise counts. Don’t think if you can’t commit to a stringent fitness routine that it’s useless. It’s not. What motivates people to do more of something is to do little of something.

Remember to check with your doctor to make sure you can participate in some gentle exercises first.

The gentle flowing movements of Tai Chi can treat your entire body to a gentle and relaxing workout. This is a form of exercise that will leave you feeling calm, refreshed and energised so the beginning of the day could be a best time to indulge. If you want to experience a positive frame of mind without puffing, panting and sweating, then Tai Chi is for you. Such exercises are suitable for those with limited mobility and you get out of it what you decide to put into it. Many people find 15 minutes a day is adequate for them to feel the tranquillity and energy they need to enjoy the day. The best way to learn Tai Chi is to find a good teacher. You need to find the right one for you. Also, check out http://www.everyday-taichi.com/index.html for more information and advice.

Yoga promotes better health through movement. It allows you to breathe slowly; which if you are able to develop as a habit through practising yoga daily will most certainly lower anxiety and stress levels. You also have the added bonus of reducing your heart rate and relaxing your muscles. It is definitely a way of helping you regain mental peace. Yoga, the Sanskrit word for "union", is a practice that uses posture and breathing techniques to induce relaxation and improve strength, and its health benefits may surpass those of any other activity. If you begin yoga by practising when you don’t find anxious, you will find that when faced with a difficult situation that normally triggers stress, you will be able to implement techniques you have learnt from Yoga. Look for DVDs on the market or online as well as books on the subject. To get you started, try the ‘Standing Prayer Breath’

1. Stand with your feet hip-width apart. Bring your palms together in front of your chest in prayer position. Inhale as you raise your pressed palms and arms overhead. Relax your shoulders and then press them down into your back.
2. Exhale as you separate your hands and sweep them out and down to your sides, and then draw them back up to the starting prayer position. Repeat 3 to 10 times, allowing your breath to follow your movements. Slowly. Make your exhalations slightly longer each time, gradually slowing your pace. This is what will aid your relaxation.
3. Repeat this breath in reverse. Starting with your hands in prayer position, inhale as you separate your hands, lower your arms to your sides, and then sweep them out and up until your palms touch overhead.
4. Exhale as you draw your pressed palms down the centerline of your body, stopping in front of your heart. Repeat 3 to 10 times. Make your exhalations slightly longer each time, gradually slowing your pace.

Other gentle exercises to relieve stress that can be considered are stretching exercises. Stretching exercises help to relieve stress as they get the blood flowing - improving circulation while adding flexibility and relieving muscle tension. Stretching exercises also stimulate receptors in the nervous system that decrease the production of stress hormones.

The most common form of stretching is the static stretch and consider implementing it into your daily routine. The static stretch is held for 10 – 20 seconds. Static stretches are a safe way to improve flexibility. They are very relaxing. When stretching, do not bounce as this risks you tearing muscles. You should feel a slight pull, but never pain. Hold each stretch for 10 – 20 seconds. You should stretch each major muscle group: arms, legs, neck, shoulders, lower back, leg muscles and bottom to really feel the benefit.

We often feel tension in our shoulders and necks. An ideal stretching exercise to release such pressure is the following;

Sit or Stand with knees slightly flexed. Interlace fingers, extend arms forward at shoulder level. Turn palms out and reach your arms further until you feel a stretch. Hold 10 - 20 seconds. Repeat.

Any activity that gets your heart pumping will get those endorphins flowing and relieve stress. Try to get your heart going a little faster for at least 15 minutes a day. Even a few minutes here and there of brisk walking can provide stress relief and improve your overall health.

Remember to practise positive thinking as you exercise. Your mind deserves a gentle workout too. Every movement, every stretch, every step will count towards reducing your tension and helping you to feel happier, relaxed and eager to lead a stress free life.