For the first time since May I didn’t write and publish a blog post yesterday, so I’m doing it today instead.
I completely forgot after having had a lovely afternoon with friends, making Christmas wreaths.
My friend Maxine had organised it, and we all contributed different kinds of foliage from different places. I’d bought some bunches of festive foliage at the Buddhist Centre when I was there on Friday, and there were baubles, ribbons and lights that Maxine provided for us, along with some delicious snacks and drinks.
Trev gave Lydia her tea while I was out so I didn’t have to leave early, and was pleased with my creation which is now hanging up on our front door.
I’ve got some more get-togethers with friends coming up over the next couple of weeks, and made a really good start with this one.
One aspect of depression that is a constant struggle is finding something – anything – to build up my self-esteem. To a certain extent I’ve learnt to live with it, knowing that the worst moments pass if I rest up and tune in to parts of my brain that I’ve trained, using positive processes such as meditation, and affirmations: “I choose to be peaceful and calm; everything is unfolding as it should.”
I’ve identified my own truths and ‘root causes’ of past problems, and arrived at a point – in a very long and arduous journey – where I felt I didn’t need to have any aspects of these verified or vindicated by any one or any thing. However, I have found it helpful recently to have discovered the work of Imi Lo. I went through her book – Emotional Sensitivity and Intensity: how to manage intense emotions as a highly sensitive person (John Murray Learning, 2018) – highlighting many passages that I felt applied directly to me. I urge anyone who has been deemed ‘over-sensitive’ and felt alienated one way or another as a result, to read and take hope from this book.
The author states in a key point (p.45):
We are not here to dismiss the validity of all mental health diagnoses, or the importance of appropriate treatment in the case of severe psychological trauma. But it is important to examine the root of your suffering: often, it may be a reflection of your natural tendencies, and a result of being misunderstood, rather than as a sign of defectiveness. We must be extra cautious to not reinforce any restrictive categories, diagnoses and stigma around emotional intensity.
In the final chapter of her book, Imi Lo identifies possibilities for tapping into our creative potential.
It’s possible to be creative in many ways – not just through the arts. I’ve been as creative as I could be at different stages in my life and through many different types of work. However, having arrived at the point when I’m now retired, giving me a new-found freedom that I relish, I’m loving being able to re-immerse myself in solving problems associated with art and design, construction and concepts.
A significant difference that I’ve noticed between how I feel about work that I produce now, compared with work that I produced when I was younger, is that now I can feel a sense of satisfaction about having produced it. I can ‘own it’, take pride in it, see it for what it is in the context of my life; a life that I’m glad to have.
My self-esteem still falls by the wayside sometimes, but – generally speaking – I’m in a much better place than I’ve ever been. It takes a bit of getting used to, but I’m determined to make the most of it, knowing that I am – after all ‘gifted’ rather than the waste of space I often felt my self to be.
I rarely remember dreams but woke this morning from a deeper sleep than I’ve had for a long time, remembering one.
The sense of relief that comes from sleep is immense. The strategy of reducing my caffeine intake, limiting myself to just two or three cups of tea a day – in the morning – and no coffee, is starting to pay off.
It is by no means the only part of my strategy, as limiting or eliminating caffeine altogether isn’t necessarily going to do the trick without other factors kicking in, in my experience anyway.
For me, I know it is a combination of physical and creative and other activities.
It also depends on the type and context of activities.
The heavy lifting and shifting I’ve done recently, clearing stuff out of house and garage and taking them to the tip, are good for the musculoskeletal system, but my nearly 70-year-old back was giving me a few warning signs. A few stretches at home helped, but not as much as the yoga class I went to yesterday. There has been no Qigong this week as we do classes in groups of three, then have a break, then back for another group of three. This works very well and yesterday meant that I had time to do a charity shop drop-off, again with more lifting and carrying – a big bag and a box – and then go shopping for our tea, a stir fry that I cooked using a combination of a bag of pre-made sauce, some hoisin sauce from a bottle, and some dark soy sauce. I usually make a stir-fry sauce from scratch, using a combination of lemon or lime juice, ginger, garlic if we have any, and again soy sauce; also a bit of brown sugar, salt and pepper. However, due to my having had a cold, I thought I’d make it a bit easier for myself. I also took the time to buy a large pot of matt white emulsion, some concentrated sugar soap and a precision paint brush for edges. This will enable me to start doing the painting work I have lined up for later in the week.
So, for now, I’m keeping my strength up and the aches and pains at bay, glad to be able to enjoy a walk with Lydia on this bright and sunny, if somewhat breezy, morning. I always feel invigorated after I come back from our walks, and I now have a good little routine that involves putting her poopie bags in the outside bin, washing my hands, filling and setting off her breakfast ball for her to nudge around the lounge, putting a chicken wing or drumstick (sometimes a lamb rib) in a cool bag for later, so that it defrosts and hopefully gets to room temperature but doesn’t go off, and making sure that there’s a further supply of her raw food starting to defrost in the fridge.
Today I didn’t feel like sitting down for breakfast so I put some mashed banana on toast that I’d spread with olive spread and did some tidying up in the kitchen while I was eating it, unloading and loading up the dishwasher and a few other things. A dishwasher is a relatively recent acquisition for us and it makes such a difference.
Later today I’ll visit M in her care home. We’ll go for coffee and a cake but I’ll make sure I get decaff. It’s the way forward for me, for the time being at least.
Trev has done some more clearing out as well, which puts us in a good position for me to start painting the walls by the stairs and in the landing area. I painted through all the rest of the house when we moved in, a section at a time as I wasn’t feeling well and I could only do a section at a time. I never did get round to doing the walls up the stairs and on the landing though and since then there’ve been a lot of things going on. I now, finally, have time, energy and inclination to do that job. It shouldn’t take long but then there’s no need to try and do it in a rush. A bit at a time and it will get done.
Today I sat outside turning a piece of clay from one form into another. It’s called ‘art’ and I love it.
I have limited tools and equipment, so improvised, and just became profoundly absorbed in the process of ‘doing’.
The end result may not be classed as a ‘masterpiece’, but it’s my ‘mixed up piece’, and that’s what counts.
I’m looking forward to spending many more happy hours making things out of clay. It’s a wonderful medium to work with, providing all sorts of possibilities to explore.
I decided that my tired mind would benefit from a bit of focused activity so I turned to cleaning up my creative corner in the lounge.
After a walk with Lydia and a short meditation, I set to.
Bowls of dry clay are now outside, soaking up water, until they are ready to be reconstituted into that malleable substance that is so versatile.
I’m moving in a different direction now in my work with clay. I have no idea what that direction is, only that it is different.
It feels good, to have tidied and sorted, thrown out, re-organised.
With my ‘plan’ for pottery now in place, I turn to poetry.
There is a meeting of the poetry group coming up, and our theme this month is ‘A painting’. The remit is to interpret this as broadly as we want to (which of course is our prerogative anyway, as creators/writers).
My poem is this:
A painting
A painting can be anything you want it to be
A flower A wall A tree
Brush goes into pot Paint loads Hand holds And then it flows
Wherever and however you want it to go
The mark is made and then it’s gone in the blink of an eon
Is the painting in the pot? Or on the wall?
Where does the call to paint come from?
Is the painting in the mark or the mark on the canvas or the wall or the wood?
It can be good to paint or not
It just depends on what is in the paint and what is in the pot
I set fire to my sawdust kiln this morning, having repositioned it away from the passionflower vine that is spreading from the back trellis.
Lydia has gone into kennels for three nights, so she won’t be adversely affected by the smoke from the kiln and I don’t have to worry about her getting too close to the hot bricks. I’ll pick her up on Monday morning after the Aldborough & Boroughbridge Show on Sunday.
The kiln contains the 28 small pots that I threw on the wheel a few months ago.
I’ve experimented by wrapping some of them with copper wire and placing banana skin, wire wool, rice grains, and wood veneer inside in various combinations. I’ve also popped in a bit of Lydia’s fur that I’ve kept from grooming sessions. It will be interesting to see the different effects that these added materials make.
I’ll be using the pots as my version of a business card for the Show. Inside I’ll place curled up slips of paper with my Instagram address and my blog address printed on them. That way I hope to promote my work in words as well as in clay.
I like the idea of having pots to give away. I’ve done it before and found that people are very surprised and pleased to be able to take away a pot that they haven’t had to pay for, however small.
I haven’t got much more preparation left to do now, but like to work at my own pace, with no pressure.
All I have to do now, as far as the firing is concerned, is wait until tomorrow morning, by which time there should be no more smoke emerging from the kiln and the bricks should be cool enough to touch.
I get very impatient when I have a kiln firing on the go. Can’t wait to see the results, although – of course – that’s exactly what I have to do!
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.)
Keeping things simple is key for me just now. I can’t cope with complicated nor do I want to.
What better way, then, than to enjoy the company of friends, as I have done this weekend.
Yesterday I visited a friend – a fellow Ceramic Artist – at the Dovecot Gallery, near Doncaster, where she was exhibiting. It was a summer show in a garden setting, full of colour and creativity.
Today a friend and I visited a friend of hers. We sat together for about four hours, talking. Just talking. It was lovely to have a three-way conversation, each of us bringing in thoughts and ideas from our lives and experience.
My Ceramic Artist friend is a year or two older than me, so in her early 70’s. She started out in her career with clay just a few years ago. Rarely have I come across anyone more passionate about what they do.
My friend’s friend is about 10 years younger than us. Unlike me, she doesn’t enjoy good physical health, but she doesn’t let that stop her expressing herself through her art. She is a talented Textile Artist as well as a dog lover and owner of four canine companions.
While I aim in this blog to be positive about pushing through into a position of mental health recovery that I’ve been working towards most of my life, at the moment I’m struggling to get my brain to function.
Despite enjoying the company of friends, despite the wonderful weather, despite the woodland walk I had with Lydia this morning, I’ve hit a wall.
At least though, now, I know it won’t last, that I just need to rest – which I will – and tomorrow will be another day.
Looking across at Lydia, as I write, she is looking back at me. I’ll give her some more “rub-a-dub-dub” massages later, to help soothe her vagus nerve and I’ll keep doing what I need to do to help soothe mine too.
Train your dog; train your mind – positive reinforcement for humans and canines – now available in paperback: https://amzn.eu/d/eQ2sWjU.
The Kindle version is currently for sale at £0.99 on a Kindle Countdown deal https://amzn.eu/d/99yW3Qk.
One aspect of depression that is a constant struggle is finding something – anything – to build up my self-esteem. To a certain extent I’ve learnt to live with it, knowing that the worst moments pass if I rest up and tune in to parts of my brain that I’ve trained, using positive processes such as meditation, and affirmations: “I choose to be peaceful and calm; everything is unfolding as it should.”
I’ve identified my own truths and ‘root causes’ of past problems, and arrived at a point – in a very long and arduous journey – where I felt I didn’t need to have any aspects of these verified or vindicated by any one or any thing. However, I have found it helpful recently to have discovered the work of Imi Lo. I went through her book – Emotional Sensitivity and Intensity: how to manage intense emotions as a highly sensitive person (John Murray Learning, 2018) – highlighting many passages that I felt applied directly to me. I urge anyone who has been deemed ‘over-sensitive’ and felt alienated one way or another as a result, to read and take hope from this book.
The author states in a key point (p.45):
We are not here to dismiss the validity of all mental health diagnoses, or the importance of appropriate treatment in the case of severe psychological trauma. But it is important to examine the root of your suffering: often, it may be a reflection of your natural tendencies, and a result of being misunderstood, rather than as a sign of defectiveness. We must be extra cautious to not reinforce any restrictive categories, diagnoses and stigma around emotional intensity.
In the final chapter of her book, Imi Lo identifies possibilities for tapping in to our creative potential.
It’s possible to be creative in many ways – not just through the arts. I’ve been as creative as I could be at different stages in my life and through many different types of work. However, having arrived at the point when I’m now retired, giving me a new-found freedom that I relish, I’m loving being able to re-immerse myself in solving problems associated with art and design, construction and concepts.
A significant difference that I’ve noticed between how I feel about work that I produce now, compared with work that I produced when I was younger, is that now I can feel a sense of satisfaction about having produced it. I can ‘own it’, take pride in it, see it for what it is in the context of my life; a life that I’m glad to have.
My self-esteem still falls by the wayside sometimes, but – generally speaking – I’m in a much better place than I’ve ever been. It takes a bit of getting used to, but I’m determined to make the most of it, knowing that I am – after all ‘gifted’ rather than the waste of space I often felt myself to be.
Glad About 
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