Once, upon a green and white day, I walked, with shades of blue and grey above, and occasional muted pools of golden light along the way.
Cold and still, it was as, wrapped in thoughts and clothes, I lumbered on, taking weary steps in heavy boots, glad to be out but ill at ease and with no easy motion.
Then, suddenly, up ahead, a quick quiet movement of life and limbs, and fur of warm brown red.
A dog, I thought, at first – but no – a fox!
I stopped and stared, and thrilled at each tight turn.
Alert though not aware of me, she moved, close enough to see the splash of white upon her breast; no cunning vixen, she, with body, mind and spirit in perfect poise and purposeful grace beside the still and silent trees.
Doing what she needed to do. Being what she needed to be.
But then I moved and she was gone.
So I carried on through the green and white day with shades of blue and grey, moving easier now but missing her and wishing, that our eyes had met, that I hadn’t seemed a threat.
For in her hungry hunt for food she had nourished me, and warmed my heart while her cold search went on.
Alone, both, and alive.
She free, and I a few steps closer now, to being me.
“I choose to be peaceful and calm. Everything is unfolding as it should.”
Affirmations can be hard to take on faith at the best of times. At times like this – and especially with an affirmation like this – it can be even harder.
On my daily walk with my partner, in the beautiful spring sunshine and along the peaceful country lanes around where we are lucky enough to live, I’ve stopped and said this affirmation out loud, and it has helped; helped me to remind myself that I can choose to respond to any given situation in a calm and peaceful way, providing I have control of my emotions and my mind. It might be hard, but not impossible. It is something that I can keep working towards being able to do, even if I can’t do it now.
I first started to use this affirmation a few months ago, when I was struggling with some very difficult work situations and high levels of associated anxiety.
I discovered it in a slightly different form at http://thinkup.me/affirm and my thanks go to the author of that article. (5 Recommended Positive Affirmations for Anxiety by Yvonne Williams Casaus, 26 December 2017)
After struggling with anxiety and depression for many years, I keep thinking that I’ve beaten them, only to be hit again by another wave.
The difference, though, between when I first started my personal battle with depression – in my teens – and now – in my 60s – is that I now have a well-stocked resource bank of strategies to fall back on.
Even so, the nature of the disease- and it is a dis-ease – is such that it can be hard to fall back on what we know works when we are at our lowest ebb. I also find that I no longer have the reserves of fighting energy that I used to have, but if I can at least find an affirmation that resonates with me – even on a leap of faith – then I am doing something positive to pull myself through.
The first time I came across affirmations was when I was going through a breakdown in my late thirties.
Suddenly reaching out – desperately, as I knew I was in danger of drowning and was definitely not waving – I found that there were sources of help and support around that I had never even heard about before or could imagine being available.
Counselling was one of these, meditation another, and I also came across a book called You Can Heal Your Life by Louise Hay (1984).
In that book, as I recall, I identified an affirmation that reflected the exact opposite of how I was feeling:
“I am the love and beauty of life in full expression.”
At the time, I was feeling like the worst wretch that ever crawled the planet. But I knew I had to do something to turn my life around and so I took on board the affirmation and kept saying it to myself again and again and again. And it worked. Not on its own, not without me doing all sort of other things at the same time and ever since, but it helped to cure my warts (literally) and set me on the path to keep working and trying, never giving up.
This brings me to some more poetry, and Poetry Rule No. 28, Stand your ground when you need to; move when you don’t.
Sometimes
Sometimes it isn’t as bad as you think it’s going to be it isn’t even worse as you hesitate with anticipation and brace yourself to curse
Sometimes you’re presently surprised more than you thought you could be when you’re met with some small kindness unexpectedly
At times like these it’s good to be wrong in fact I would go so far as to say it’s a blessing that’s been missing for a long time so, no messing seriously
Sometimes are better than no times never wouldn’t you agree?
I’ve recently been fortunate to have taken part in a group poetry project.
Group experiences have been central to my mental health recovery for many years.
Some group experiences have an uplifting, energising and inspiring effect; others lead to alienation, isolation and degradation.
The poetry group experience that I’ve recently had was a good one, thanks largely to the enthusiasm and encouragement of the group leader https://mariafrankland.co.uk/.
In case you don’t want to buy the book, or perhaps as a taster (I’m one of 12 poets in the completed work), here are my poems from the collection:
Now
Now at the Pinnacle 14-and-a-half per cent proof point of my existence I’ve reached the Nottage Hill sub-station of my life I haven’t got a Sauvignon Blanc’s clue about what to do next other than to ‘méthode-champenoise’ my way through and hope that if the cork crumbles the bottle won’t be blue and the sieve will be fine so that just for now I can at least drink the wine
I can dance
I can dance without moving my feet at all I don’t have to do the foxtrot or quickstep my way to any ball I can cry without moving my lips I can laugh without making a sound all I have to do is know that the earth is flat, it isn’t round The dance is mine to make up from the music of the wind a sense of something swirling in and around my mind I don’t need a choreographer an audience or loud applause I just need to dance in my own way and then I’ll dance some more I can dance without moving my feet at all on and on and on and on it is my dance my life my call
Here’s to Wealth!
Cheers my dear to the love that you bring into my life and though I never want to be your wife I want to share with you all the good things that life brings
I love it when you sing as I know it comes from within your soul and as we learn together to love each other something magical unfolds
The trees without leaves that you hung around my neck and from my ears help to take away all my fears of things undone of words unsaid the sadness of never nurturing a child upon my breast
Where once was hope and then despair becomes a sense of stillness in the air and from that place of breathing and of wings comes freedom to wonder and wander into the rich realms of being together feeding the birds with the wealth of our love
Instant Coffee
Heading for instant gratification no time to waste or spare I take my mug into the kitchen only to find a queue of people there
Halted, suddenly, empty cup in hand my thoughts spill over into the needs of others heads bowed or lifted as we together stand
I only needed coffee and soon the queue was gone my waiting time was over but for someone else it had only just begun
***
I’m also proud of the back cover copy that I wrote for the book:
A relationship break-up can be a difficult experience at any age. It isn’t always easy to see the opportunity beyond the heartache, and even less easy to find ways of putting the experience into words.
The triumphs of Maria Stephenson’s emergence into a new life as a writer and teacher are embodied in her collection of ‘Poetry for the Newly Single Forty Something’ (2017). Maria didn’t just stop at publishing her own collection though. She inspired others to explore their creative approaches to the theme, leading to this exciting anthology, which is more than the sum of its poems.
The words of each poet paint a picture of part of their own unique life story. Demonstrating diverse responses to life and writing challenges, threads of commonality emerge and unite.
What are you waiting for? Dive in, explore, share in the joy of words and wonders of life that these writers have explored and shared. These poems aren’t just about being newly single, or about being forty something, they are about being – essentially – human.
The reason for my pride is partly because I think it stands well as a piece of writing in its own right (and even being able to credit myself with that is a remarkable* achievement in its own right), and partly because of what it represents for me in terms of having come through what I’ve come through, still fighting, still writing, still reaching out.
* https://iamremarkable.withgoogle.com/ (#IamRemarkable is a Google initiative empowering women and underrepresented groups to celebrate their achievements in the workplace and beyond.)
I’ve recently read an article in the BBC’s Science Focus journal about willpower.
I’m not a scientist which is one of the reasons why I get this journal every month. I find out about all sorts of interesting things that I wouldn’t hear about otherwise, and it’s generally a really good, accessible read (although some bits go way over my head!).
In this article there was reference to willpower in relation to eating disorders and the impact that meditation and other aspects of mindfulness training can have on the power of the human will.
In my early teenage years, I had to use willpower to start to take control of my own life but eventually had to allow myself to move beyond it and enter that scary place where self-control no longer prevailed.
I still use willpower – to push myself from the point of doing nothing – which I can so easily fall into – to the point of doing something, making a start with decorating my house, for example. But as far as eating is concerned, I seem to have arrived at a much healthier state of mind, where I eat when I’m hungry and recognise the signs when I’m full. I enjoy food – a whole range of different types of food, not just the ‘cottage cheese and crispbread, endless omelettes and no chips diet’ that I lived on for many, many years.
When I concentrated on eating as little as I possibly could every day, I had little capacity to concentrate on anything else. I’m no longer limiting my life like I limited my food intake although I’m not just eating my way into the oblivion of obesity either.
Ironically, the room that I’ve started working on in the house is the dining room. I’ve found a fabulous wallpaper – ‘Mystical Forest’ – and I’m taking my time, doing a bit at a time, and can gradually feel that sense of transition from having to push myself to do it, to getting drawn in to the process of doing it, and taking pride in the way it looks. I don’t think I will gain any interior design awards, but it is a labour of love, to enhance the lovely home that me and my lovely partner are lucky enough to live in.
It’s not my real name, but ‘Glad’ is better than sad, and I’ve worked hard in my life to be Glad, not sad.
I’ve recently started decorating my house – our house. This may not seem like an amazing revelation or achievement, but it is for me. I’m 64 years old and have had a long struggle to be able to enjoy doing the everyday things that I can focus on now.
It’s taken about fifty years of unlearning and then re-learning how to be me. Poetry hasn’t been the only vehicle I’ve used for recovery and discovery, but it has been a regular companion along the way.
As a teenager – like many teenagers since and still – I developed a very negative self-image of myself, inside and out.
Out
Out, out into the world That’s where I wanted to go What I wanted to do When I was young But when I looked in the mirror All I could see Was an ugly, unattractive body Looking back at me
I went on a diet from the age of about 15 that lasted for the next 30 years or so, and affected every aspect of my life (or more accurately non-life that it had become). I didn’t think I had anything to offer as a person, didn’t know how to form relationships, and put all my energy into losing weight. At least if I was thin, that would be something. Except it led to nothing, because it wasn’t solid ground on which to build a life. It was the best I could do at the time, but I did eventually realise, after I’d had a major breakdown in my late thirties, and was trying to get myself going again in my forties, that I needed to eat, to give me energy, to be able to live. I had to finally, eventually, push through that awful sense of self-loathing that I associated with putting on weight in order to emerge as a (literally as well as generally) well-rounded person with an appetite for life.
I still have to work at it, still take anti-depressants, can’t use shop changing rooms or look at myself naked in a mirror, but on the whole this does not affect my ability to enjoy my life – with my partner – and try to make the most of every day.
I can still very easily cut myself off, go into ‘zombie’ mode, more readily associate with entropy than energy, so decorating my house – however long it takes – and writing this blog – wherever it takes me – are positive signs of engagement; action rather than inaction.
I hope my poems and other musings may resonate with anyone who has struggled to find their own identity and path through life. I know now that there are endless possibilities and I hope that the following poem (in six parts) helps to show how important it is for each of us to find our fighting spirit:
Jacket 1 It’s there, on the chair The red fleece jacket With hood and drawstring waist That I don’t want to wear Don’t want to keep
It’s warm and soft when I put it on But far too big for me Drowned in a red sea Shapeless, I feel A baggy, saggy, faceless entity
I look at the jacket On the chair In limp, loose folds of red, and seams This isn’t the jacket of my dreams
It’s theirs to wear Not mine to keep Their tears to cry Not mine to weep
It’s there, on the chair The red fleece jacket With hood and drawstring waist That I don’t want to wear Don’t want to keep So I’ve put a price on its head To let it go free To someone who wants it But when will that be?
Jacket 2 It’s there, on the chair The red fleece jacket With hood and drawstring waist That I don’t want to wear Don’t want to keep
It’s warm and soft when I put it on But far too big for me Drowned in a red sea Shapeless, I feel A baggy, saggy, faceless entity
I look at the jacket On the chair In limp, loose folds of red, and seams This isn’t the jacket of my dreams
It’s not my layer These aren’t my lies With drawstring waist And nylon ties
It’s not my jacket They’re not my dreams These aren’t my ties They’re not my seams
So I leave the jacket On the chair To go my way While they go theirs
Jacket 3 Now it hangs upon the door That red fleece jacket That I didn’t want to wear Didn’t want to keep
It’s warm and soft when I put it on And not too big for me Warmed in a red sea Shapeless no more No baggy, saggy faceless entity
I look at the jacket On the door In limp, loose folds of red, and seams It’s not the jacket of my dreams But just a layer to keep me warm From frozen looks And glares of scorn
It is my jacket With hood and waist To wear a while From place to place
Jacket 4 What next?
Jacket 5 Jacket in?
Jacket 6 No!
Gladabout.life blog posts from March 2020 to September 2024 are now available as an e-book on Amazon for Kindle:
Rules, Rhymes, Recovery, Recipe, Random: Glad About Life
As this 28-day cycle of journaling/blogging comes to a close, I reflect on how far I’ve come in being able to make the most of every day as I do, after the journey of mental health breakdown and recovery that I’ve had, for most of my so far 69 years.
I’m now going to have a short break from writing while I put together a two-volume book of the story of Lydia and me so far. While I’m doing this, I will re-post a blog from the past every day.
A full collection of my earlier blogs, from March 2020 to September 2024, is now available on Amazon for Kindle:
‘Rules’ came originally from a set of ‘self-management rules’ that I devised, largely to reflect on some of the very negative experiences I’d had of being managed by others. I later developed these Rules into ‘Poetry Rules’, relating them to poems that I wrote or had previously written.
‘Rhymes’ are my poems, even though not all my poems rhyme. I just like writing them, expressing myself through words in whatever way I choose.
‘Recovery’ pieces reflect on different approaches and factors that influence mental health and wellbeing, including barriers to recovery.
‘Recipe’ is largely focused on one dish, but it’s an important one: Leftovers Soup.
‘Random’ – well, anything that didn’t quite fit in to the other categories but wanted to include anyway.
Step by step, day by day, the story of Lydia and me continues, and I’ll continue to record it at https://gladabout.life/.
It may not be the only Peace Café in the World, but it is the only one that I know, in this part of the World. And it’s a good one.
The lunch followed a morning of Buddhist meditations and teachings, on how to overcome anger and frustration.
I’ve done a lot of work on my ‘anger issues’ over the last 3 decades but found recently that I needed to do more.
The principle presented in today’s teachings is to practise patient acceptance, with a loving heart.
There are some aspects of my life where I find this easy and joyful, such as the work I’m doing with Lydia. It does require patience, to keep repeating the same training routines and reassurances, and to keep looking for further ways to provide reassurance and help her overcome her fears.
On the other hand, having let go of most of my own anxieties now about being able to keep going on a sustained basis, I no longer feel under any self-induced pressure to achieve ‘outcomes’. We just do what we do, day by day. I love my time with Lydia, and I think Lydia enjoys her time with me too.
I got another ‘wake up’ call from her at 1.30’ish this morning.
This time she did want to go outside, which I presumed was for a toilet need.
Usually, she’ll come back in quite quickly and we settle ourselves down for some more “sleepy time” but this morning I waited a while and then went out to see where she was.
It was a warm and beautiful starry night.
I’m not great on constellations but I did recognise a clear ‘plough’ and a star that shone very brightly, which I thought may have been the North Star.
Thanks to Lydia, I had those few special moments looking up at the stars.
Sitting outside now, as I write, in the sunshine, after a mellow morning followed by a leisurely lunch, I do feel a sense of personal peace that I thought for a long time I would never be able to feel. Yesterday was grief and anger; today is peace.
I’ll still have to keep working at it: meditating; learning; relaxing; growing; writing; loving.
I’m lucky to have a lot of good things in my life and to be able to have days like I’m having today. I do wish that for others too.
I don’t claim to be a dog trainer or a mind trainer – I’m just a woman with a dog who writes a blog, and has written a book, about life, and about being glad.
Lydia woke me at about 1.30am, with a gentle nudge from her nose.
I thought she must need to go outside for a pee but as I started off downstairs, I realised she wasn’t following me. When I went back into the bedroom she was rolled over, ready for me to tickle her tummy; give her a “rub-a-dub-dub” massage that she’s growing to love. So I did.
Now, I realise I probably shouldn’t be encouraging disturbances to my sleep in this way, but then again she asked so nicely, and I do think we are approaching a breakthrough position with addressing her anxiety. So, I give her plenty of “rub-a-dub-dubs” before reintroducing her to the idea of “sleepy time”.
This afternoon, I had a good play session with my steam cleaner. It’s almost as good fun as a pressure washer and the bathroom is now clean.
After a shower – in my now clean bathroom – and an early change into pj’s, I sat outside for a while, reading.
I finished the autobiography that I’ve been reading for a couple of weeks. It ended with an account of an inquest into the death of a family member. The writer’s loss is immeasurable, as is the courage and humanity shown by him and his family. Re-engaging with life, through grief, isn’t easy, but they are doing it. Every day, they are doing it.
I don’t claim to be a dog trainer or a mind trainer – I’m just a woman with a dog who writes a blog, and has written a book, about life, and about being glad.
I don’t like a lot of fuss. I just have a wet trim, but it’s a good one.
The hairdresser is tired, almost to the point of tears. She needs a rest, a holiday.
Lydia is enjoying the return of sunshine in our back yard. She’s been an absolute delight to be with today. I’ve given her lots of “rub-a-dub” massages and she’s loving them.
I’ve booked in to a half-day retreat at the Buddhist Centre on Saturday – overcoming anger and frustration. I’ve also booked to go to the Hepworth Gallery in Wakefield on Sunday where they have a Ceramics Fair. So, a good weekend lined up and an easy day tomorrow.
Oh, sleep it is a gentle thing …
My book, Train your dog; train your mind – positive reinforcement for humans and canines – is now available in paperback: https://amzn.eu/d/eQ2sWjU.
The Kindle version is currently for sale at £3.99 on a Kindle Countdown deal https://amzn.eu/d/99yW3Qk.
Glad About 
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