My mother is 96 years old and still lives in her own home supported by carers and essential items like a stairlift that takes her up her old set of stairs around the corner near the top, delivering her finally at the landing. It looks like the one below.
Anyone who has ever used stairlifts knows that they are not speedy but Mum rang up a few days ago, worried, as the stairlift had gone on a ‘go slow’ on her way up to bed the previous night, even stopping at a couple of points before carrying on. She didn’t want to be left stranded half-way up the stairs as she can barely walk, let alone climb stairs.
The following morning, she and the carer (Gloria) had rung the company to get an engineer to come out. We didn’t have insurance so they needed pre-payment of the £150 call out fee first. I have financial power of attorney so I rang them up, waited for the requisite 10 minutes on the phone and was thinking of just using the website, which the automated voice kept urging me to do, when finally, a real voice came on the phone. Or at least it sounded real.
Waiting for someone to answer proved a very useful pause.
Pauses are one of the most useful things that you can do in life before making a decision. Especially mindful pauses. I don’t always remember.
In that pause I had an idea.
The voice was still rather automatic, asking my details, preparing to take payment when I asked if there was something we could actually do our end first. I hit gold. The voice lit up and became an animated and helpful person 😊. Yes, we could do something, Hurrah!
After explaining to me in detail about using a remote control, which gave me heart palpitations because I had no idea where it was and hadn’t see it for over a year, he then changed tack and it turned out we didn’t need a remote control at all.
‘There’s a panel on the stairlift which shows up a code and if something is wrong there’ll be a J3 or an E something or possible another number.’
He then went on to say that from my description it was probably a J3 problem. He explained carefully, not in techno speak but in easy, homely language (Thank you!):
‘The stairlift has to go around a corner to get up the stairs. In order to do that, it has to have a map in its system. Sometimes the map disappears and it gets lost.’
It sounded rather sweet that a stairlift could get lost.
He carried on:
‘Because it is lost, it goes very slowly because it doesn’t know where the corners are and it will sometimes stop. It can also tip slightly if it’s expecting to go round a corner.’
Why do I feel so much empathy for this stairlift?
He finishes:
‘For it to reset, it needs to go back to the top of the stairs because that is “home”. Once it is there it will beep and then reset itself.’
The stairlift just needed some help getting home. I know that feeling.
It turned out to be a team effort.
Having thanked him profusely, I then rang Gloria and we had to go through the whole procedure on the phone as I live 100 miles away. Gloria discovered that she had no idea how to use the stairlift. I know it should be easy but I’d also been stymied by it, when visiting at Christmas. It was my 96-year-old mother who was the expert here, so I waited while Gloria helped my mother out of her chair, into her wheelchair, and then over to the stairlift.
Mum’s job was to keep the stairlift moving while Gloria followed her up the stairs, watching the numbers and shouting down the phone at me
‘It’s saying A2’
‘that’s the right code, the man says’.
They got to the top and then repeated the process going down.
‘It’s saying A3’
‘That’s correct for going down.’
The stairlift had worked perfectly on both journeys. It became evident that it had reset the previous night when my mum parked it at the top. We saved £150 and it’s been fine ever since.
It just got a bit lost and it needed to get home to regain its bearings.
That is my story for the New Year, and indeed for anytime that you notice you are feeling lost and overwhelmed… (by personal stuff or world news).
Now take a moment to recognise what state you are in: Maybe you’re going slow, stopping, unsure of your bearings.
What you need to do is come home.
What a relief.
Instead of rushing out to find someone or something to fix you (often at high cost), you simply come home.
How do we come home?
You know. Listen to yourself. You have your ways.
Some of my ways of coming home are: meditation, walking in nature, especially amongst trees or by the sea. Also, poetry, music. Also taking time to cook a good meal, snuggling up with someone I love and a good book. Sometimes I need to be on my own, sometimes I need to touch base with someone else.
This morning, I was feeling lost, a minor swirl of frustration, mainly with myself. I recognised it. My reset button this morning was to go and find Tim, who hugged me and brought me home.
Below is a poem that I love. It is a deeply embodied, coming home. It is by Jane Hooper. I cannot find a book source. I quote the first part of it.
Please Come Home
by Jane Hooper
Please come home.
Please come home.
Find the place where your feet know where to walk
And follow your own trail home.
Please come home.
Please come home into your own body,
Your own vessel, your own earth.
Please come home into each and every cell,
And fully into the space that surrounds you…
Please come home.
Please come home to trusting yourself,
And your instincts and your ways and your knowings,
And even the particular quirks of your personality.
Please come home.
Please come home and once you are firmly there,
Please stay home awhile and come to a deep rest within.
Please treasure your home. Please love and embrace your home.
Please get a deep, deep sense of what it’s like to be truly home.
Please come home. Please come home.
Falling Awake to Life - Through Story, Myth and Mindfulness 