What do we give up and take up post 30? Post 40? I have researched this with the usual suspects and I’ll start with Original Laura.

Original Laura started her wonderful family in the nineties – even the youngest is now a teenager.  As such, O.L.’s new hobbies include international travel, holidays of any description as well as music and comedy events.  The last time I couldn’t track her down she was seeing Alanis Morrisette live.  We once made loose plans to go to Glasto but I mostly can’t keep up with her. I do, however, resent that she managed to get Peter Kay tickets and went with her new mates!  She’s unavailable for comment (probably in the Maldives) but would have likely used a quote from our youth,

Every client has the potential to challenge me and teach me.  Today, I was taught the term,

‘Mood Hoover’. This piqued my curiosity as I believe myself to share DNA with at least one such person.  I contemplated its meaning in relation to the term ‘Fun Sponge’ although I’m not sure they could be considered synonyms as, according to Margaret Atwood, “context is all.”

Various google searches reveal that a ‘mood hoover’ may do any or all of the following, consistently:

·       bring negativity into a group or environment

·       deplete the energy and enthusiasm of others 

·       contribute to poor morale, low performance and a toxic culture.

·       obsess over doom and gloom

Other group members may react with apathy initially and later, confusion.  They may feel impotent to challenge the mood hoover, (who remains in their personal comfort zone), for fear of conflict and reprisal, and in order to protect a sense of equilibrium for themselves and the group.  But if nothing changes, nothing changes.

So, how should one respond when approached and asked,

“Am I a mood hoover?”

In the spirit of context being all – is it forgivable to be a seasonal mood hoover?  Does it necessarily make one a, ‘Scrooge?’ His catch phrase, "Bah! Humbug!" is often used to express disgust with many modern Christmas traditions but not everyone feels anxious about the festivities due to associated ‘reckless’ spending.  SO… ghost of past, present or future?!

Back to the cast of characters…

John, my supervisor, fellow therapist, lecturer and Celt, reflector on theory:

“Always present. In therapy, we encourage clients to return to the here and now instead of rumination (the past) or catastrophizing (the future). Besides, he was a fat bastard so that suits me better. Best not think of the kids under his gown though!”

And that’s where we differ…

Relatives and obligations are all more present over the festive period.  Inundations of people you haven’t seen for ages and weren’t counting on; last minute rejuggling… These all result in last minute cancellations and complications for people who aren’t supposed to be seeing one another at all…?

How patient can you be with an affair partner over the festive season? 

The plight of a long-term client hit home with me when a number of relatives/ relatives of friends were lost in quick succession.  One asked a relative,

“Are you going to go and see him?”  Response,

“No thanks.  That’s just you and the Irish.”  My mother bequeathed me a very sizeable Irish family, so here’s my experience:

I was with my mum on countless occasions when I thought she might die and when she almost died.  On the night she actually died, she was alone.  The only option, if I wanted to ever see her face again, was to see her in repose. 

I cried all the way from Leeds to Derby and bizarrely, put on a full face of makeup in the bathroom at the funeral directors. It was definitely crooked but I don’t think she noticed.  I read her my personal eulogy which never saw the light of day again and collected some of her belongings.  I can’t remember if that was before or after I forced myself to read her post mortem (GOOGLE every, second word or hope you know a doctor).  There was nothing untoward.  I walked into that situation knowing.  However, I’d set myself a precedent.

I’d inadvertently taken the Magnus, Magnuson approach,

“I’ve started, so I’ll finish.”  But I wasn’t fully committed.