Doing again

7th Nov 20257th Nov 2025 'A Poetic Potter & A Potting Poet'Leave a comment

First published 28 December 2021

At the turn of the Millennium, I completed a project under the Mind-Millennium Award Scheme.

My project – the Lifelines Project – involved collecting and publishing poems, pictures and self-help strategies from other people who, like me, had suffered from enduring and debilitating depression.

I had not met many of the contributors, and was amazed – honoured – that they trusted me with their personal expressions, all because of the underlying intention of reaching out in the hope of helping others.

If you, yourself, are suffering with depression, I would like to wish you well and tell you that you are not alone.”

Since then, there’s been increased awareness about mental health and how it can be improved. While there remains much to be done in society from the ‘prevent’ and ‘promote’ perspectives, being able to – and even encouraged – to talk about mental health difficulties more openly represents a start.

In my own experience, I eventually got fed up of talking – I’ve never been much good at it anyway. I knew that I needed to take action, to find ways of turning my life around, however difficult or painful that might be. And I knew it would be difficult and painful, to rebuild from a below zero level when I was in my forties.

From somewhere, somehow, I found the resolve to put my head down, prioritise, and push myself through. For a long time, I concentrated on work and on developing my internal resilience. Just before I turned 60, I decided to take the plunge and commit to a relationship. I now have a much fuller and richer life than I have ever had before and I’m thankful for that.

Even so, life continues to be difficult and I still take antidepressants – probably always will. But I have other coping skills and strategies, and have also been able to recently retire, taking away work pressures that I could no longer deal with.

I wasn’t able to keep in touch with all the people who contributed to the Lifelines Project but they’ve always remained in my thoughts and I hope that they too have been able to find a way through; a way that works for each of them:

Sylvia

Marcia

Maggie 2

Peter

Virginia

Henzie

Maggie 3

Jonathan

Fiona

Sean

Christopher

Polly

Christine

Caz

John

Caroline

Frances

Susan

Patricia

Mary

Dave

Mark

Tony

Iain

Day 19 – Going on

13th Sep 2025 'A Poetic Potter & A Potting Poet'Leave a comment

Writing into Life

After yesterday’s full-on day at the races, I was up at 7.45 this morning to take Lydia for a walk and then go on to a poetry group meeting.

This may not seem anything to write about, except that for me it is. Just a few months ago I wouldn’t have been able to cope with the day at the races, with all it entailed, and it was a struggle to make myself go to a poetry group meeting once a month.

I know full well that I wasn’t the ‘life and soul of the party’ yesterday, but I held up pretty well, and today I was able to take an active part in the meeting, albeit in a low-key way.

There were ten of us there and, those of us who chose to, read out poems that we had written.

One of the poems presented by the organiser, another Maggie, was about poetry with the heading of ‘Trifle’. It was a very clever and interesting poem, drawing on her own experiences.

I read out three of my poems:

Ambitions

Gleeful
Wild
Outrageous
Contagious

Cheerful
Fearful
Respectful
Disrespectful
Full

Mad
Sad
Glad

Cook
Read a Book
Make Tea

Dance
Romance
Work
Shirk

Naughty
Nosy
Silly
Me.

I first wrote that poem in 2000 and revised it in 2020. The ambitions still apply, and I’m still working on achieving them.

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’t remember when I wrote that poem but it still applies, now.

The Beat Goes On

Pump, puff
Pump, puff
The beat goes on
The beat goes on

Pump, puff
Pump, puff
The lights are dim
The lights are dim

Pump, puff
Pump, puff
The night is young
The night is young

Pump, puff
Pump, puff
My body moves
My body moves

Pump, puff
Pump, puff
My arm aches
My arm aches

Pump, puff
Pump, puff
The air bed’s inflated
I’ve had enough.

That’s another one that was written over a quarter of a century ago, based on an experience of being marooned on a remote Scottish island, waiting for the weather to settle so that the ferry could come and pick us up. It was a wild night, and we had a bit of fun while we were waiting.

The theme for the meeting this morning was ‘something funny’ so I think I contributed some pieces that were at least mildly amusing.

We’re a mixed group and one person read out her first ever poem at the meeting today.

It’s good to be part of this group. And the beat goes on.

Day 2 – belonging

27th Aug 2025 'A Poetic Potter & A Potting Poet'Leave a comment

Writing into Life

Lydia loves her home; our home.

I’ve noticed how her confidence has increased, particularly over this last summer when she makes decisions about what she wants to do and when she wants to do it. The back door is open most of the time, and she comes and goes as she pleases, within the confines of our garden.

While I continue to train her and manage her behaviour around reactivity, reinforcing basic commands such as “sit”, “wait”, “down”, “stay” and “heel”, I like the fact that she works things out for herself, and we sometimes have a compromise. For example, if she’s outside barking at birds or other dogs or motorbikes going by, and I use the “here” command to bring her in, she will often come towards me but then settle down quietly, still outside but near the door. I think this is really clever. She gets what she wants – to stay outside – and I get what I want – for her to be quiet and not disturb the neighbours. I like the fact that we can come to an understanding about this arrangement between us, me using my language and she using hers.

Some people may say that I shouldn’t let her get her own way like this, that I need to be ‘top dog’ but I’ve read that the ‘alpha’ principle that used to be thought to apply to dogs, doesn’t, and I’m happy to go with the latest research.

Source: Alpha Dog Myth: Understanding Canine Behavior – PetPress, and others

Lydia belongs here. After the life that she’s had – much of which we know nothing about until she came into our lives through adoption – it’s good to know that she has a strong sense of home now. Her home; our home.

At the poetry open mic meeting that I performed in last week, another reader read out an extract from ‘The House of Belonging’ by David Whyte. I hadn’t heard of it before, but it resonated with me at a level that leads me to want to reproduce it here:

This is the bright home
in which I live,
this is where
I ask
my friends
to come,
this is where I want
to love all the things
it has taken me so long
to learn to love.

This is the temple
of my adult aloneness
and I belong
to that aloneness
as I belong to my life.

There is no house
like the house of belonging.

The House of Belonging poem – David Whyte

Homepage – David Whyte

Going forward, that poem will underpin how I apply my own ‘rules for self-management’ that I introduced in yesterday’s post: https://gladabout.life/2025/08/26/day-1-filing/.

It somehow feels like it’s what I’ve been working towards for a long time, and the poem just said it for me.

Thanks and thoughts go to David Whyte, and to the lady who read out the poem at the open mic meeting.

Day 9

22nd Jul 202522nd Jul 2025 'A Poetic Potter & A Potting Poet'Leave a comment

Continuing the story of Lydia and Me

Lydia is very calm on our walk this morning; much calmer than she’s been on a walk for a very long time. It’s lovely just to amble along with her, stop when she sniffs at and forages blackberries, feel no need to do much other than just walk along with my dog beside me. I tell her what a lovely dog she is and let her know how much I’m enjoying my walk with her.

I also thank her when we get back to the car. I want her to feel appreciated. She is.

The sense of mellowness and calm continues throughout the day.

I visit a friend in the village. We also go for a walk together, and we thank each other to show our appreciation of each other’s company. It’s a lovely thing, to enjoy the company of another; nothing to prove; just a sense of being together, being alive and being there for each other, even if it’s just for that day.

As I write, Lydia is enjoying being outside on a day which is warmish with a soothing breeze.

I’m enjoying being inside, with the door open.

A lingering sadness remains and always will, but the nagging, aching grief has gone, as each day brings something new, or not new. It doesn’t matter. Each day just brings.

No such thing

There’s no such thing
As an ordinary day
Each day awakens
In its own way

Some days it rains
Some days it’s sunny
Some days are serious
And nothing seems funny

There’s no so thing
As an ordinary day
Each day is different
In its own way

Some days are lonely
Some days are glad
Some days are joyful
Others are sad

There’s no such thing
As an ordinary day
Each day unfolds
In its own way

Some days are busy
Others are slow
Some days it’s hard
To know which way to go

There’s no such thing
As an ordinary day
Each one just passes
In its own way

***

And when the day
Is done and gone
We sleep
Until another day
That isn’t ordinary
Comes along

Maggie Baker
April 2025

Affirmations

4th Jul 20254th Jul 2025 'A Poetic Potter & A Potting Poet'Leave a comment

First published 29 March 2020:

“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?

1998

Rules, Rhymes, Recovery, Recipe, Random – Glad About Life:
https://amzn.eu/d/6Ptwe4

A Woman, a Dog & a Blog – Writing into Life:
https://amzn.eu/d/6Ho21L8

2nd Jul 20253rd Jul 2025 'A Poetic Potter & A Potting Poet'Leave a comment

Being Glad

Originally published 21 March 2020:

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/.

Everybody’s contribution was important though, otherwise we wouldn’t have ended up being able to publish our anthology https://www.amazon.co.uk/More-Poetry-Newly-Single-Something/dp/1697621732/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=more+poetry+for+the+newly+single+40+something&qid=1584785987&s=books&sr=1-1.

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

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.)

Rules, Rhymes, Recovery, Recipe, Random – Glad About Life:
https://amzn.eu/d/6Ptwe4S

A Woman, a Dog & a Blog – Writing into Life:
https://amzn.eu/d/6Ho21L8

I’m Glad

30th Jun 202530th Jun 2025 'A Poetic Potter & A Potting Poet'Leave a comment

First published 21 March 2020

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

https://amzn.eu/d/av9oEZU

Day 28

29th Jun 202529th Jun 2025 'A Poetic Potter & A Potting Poet'Leave a comment

Continuing the story of Lydia and Me

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, Rhymes, Recovery, Recipe, Random: Glad About Life https://amzn.eu/d/gAIIf8A

‘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/.

Bon voyage!

Day 10

11th Jun 202511th Jun 2025 'A Poetic Potter & A Potting Poet'Leave a comment

Continuing the story of Lydia and Me https://amzn.eu/d/99yW3Qk

Lydia and I have both had healthy breakfasts today.

Her dry food has a high protein content, with lots of different ingredients including pumpkin, chickpeas, salmon oil, blueberries, dried ginger root, green-lipped mussels, glucosamine, chondroitin, Vitamin C, and others.

These pellets form the main basis of her diet, which I top up with additional food and treats. I try to make sure that the treats also have a high nutritional value.

I hope that her diet, combined with our regular exercise, combined with our training routines, will help to keep her healthy in mind and body. I hope that the love and attention I give her will help to keep her healthy in spirit.

My own breakfast this morning took the form of half a banana, some fresh strawberries, natural yoghurt, no-added-sugar muesli and some semi-skimmed milk. Historically I haven’t always been great at making sure that I have a healthy diet, but I’m getting better at it now. I’ve previously worked through an eating disorder and body dysmorphia, so it’s taken me a while to reach a point of having a healthy attitude to food. I do now though, on the whole.

In this blog I’ve most recently been writing about life with reference largely to my relationship with Lydia. This is because we are working together, Lydia and Me. She is learning to “heel” and I am learning to ‘heal’. In fact, we are both learning to heal, and we are helping each other.

Pottery also features as part of the healing process for me.

While I describe myself as a ‘Poetic Potter’ and a ‘Potting Poet’, I haven’t written a lot of poems recently.

I used to write more poetry, particularly when I had no other outlet for or inclination towards the creative arts. I do, however, belong to a poetry group, a poetry ‘corner’.

We meet once a month in a local library. It’s the library in the town where I was born.

Each month, we set a theme for the following month’s meeting. This month, the ‘theme’ is the name of the town where we meet; the town where I was born.

The ethos of our group is one of positive feedback; it is a very gentle and supportive group, facilitated by a very gentle and supportive leader. We get a chance to read out poems that we’ve written, and to receive comments about them. This is the poem that I have written for the next meeting:

The Library

We met in a library
It’s a different library
to the one I meet others in, today

Since then
a lot of waves have washed
upon the shore
and pulled back
into nothing at all

I have little in the way of recall
to the times between
but that doesn’t mean
I don’t or didn’t care

It just means
I am aware
of a great tidal void
between then and now

Except that in this library
at this time
I am nowhere near the same
as I was in that library, then

I hope that we can meet
in this library
again.

A fellow member of the group described the meetings as ‘soul food’.

I’m looking forward to some spiritual sustenance on Saturday, when we have our meeting. I’m also looking forward to further spiritual sustenance tonight, when I go to the Buddhist meeting. This will be for the second in the latest group of four classes: ‘Transforming Through Adversity’.

The Pie Poem

18th Jan 202118th Jan 2021 'A Poetic Potter & A Potting Poet'Leave a comment

This poem was inspired by my partner’s love of pies generally and one in particular, The Famous Cow Pie at the George Hotel in Keswick. http://georgehotelkeswick.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/The-George-Evening-Menu-18.09.20.pdf.

However, even though he helped me to write the poem, I’m only crediting him with eating the pie, unless he wants to eat his words. Ha!

The perfect pie

The perfect pie
is sensationally satisfying
oozing with succulent
gorgeous, gravy goodness
as the nostril-caressing aroma
emanating from its slab-like form
stimulates the anticipation
of marvellous meatiness
turning into an explosion of flavour
the savouring of which
makes the world immediately
a better place –
perfection
on a plate.