Tag: poetry

Day 1 – Filing

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Writing into Life

Lydia is loving this summer.

She soaks up the sun when she wants to, and searches out shady spots when she needs to cool down.

We have a good walk together, mid- to late morning.

I still find the ‘waking up and getting out of bed’ bit of the day very difficult. But I do it, with the help of a routine which involves meditating and sitting quietly with a cup of tea before I do anything else. And this morning I did get myself out of bed a bit earlier than I have been doing, so something must be working.

Over the last couple of weeks, as well as preparing paperback versions of my two latest books, I’ve also taken part in an open mic poetry session at a local library. This was so inspirational not least because the library is in my home town, and I don’t have many positive associations with my home town, due to what I now realise is the trauma I experienced as a child. I disassociated, went into survival mode, and the rest isn’t history because I can hardly remember any of it. But it doesn’t matter.  I’ve realised it doesn’t matter because it’s in the past, and I’m living my best life today.

What constitutes a ‘best life’ for me though, doesn’t mean that I need to go on exotic holidays or do ‘special’ stuff all the time. It’s the ‘small’ everyday stuff that does it for me, most of the time. Yes, I like to go out for meals, have treats and takeaways, holidays occasionally, but I don’t want to miss out on what I have around me, in the here and now, every day.

And that includes attending to my own personal paperwork – and filing.

Historically I haven’t been the best at this, although steadily, during the process of my recovery, I have been pulling chaos into order, establishing priorities and making sure that I don’t leave a pile of debris in my wake (literally, in my wake, i.e. when I do ‘pop my clogs’ my affairs are going to be so simple for the Executor to administer).

I first started developing a set of ‘rules for self-management’ some time ago, as an antidote for having been badly managed by others.  Ideas for these rules popped into my head from time to time and I wrote them down, not knowing what I was going to do with them, or when I would be able to do anything with them.  The self-management rules became ‘poetry rules’ for a while, as I related some of my poems to the inherent principles within.

Now I’m back to thinking again in terms of self-management, and I’m going to steadily work through my rules, applying them to my life as I continue to walk and work with Lydia, write this blog, live with my partner, meet up with friends and neighbours, write more poems, make more pots. I’m going to do my own filing as well along with a lot of other things I want and need to do.

Ambitions

Gleeful

Wild

Outrageous

Contagious

Cheerful

Fearful

Full

Respectful

Disrespectful

Mad

Sad

Glad

Cook

Read a Book

Make Tea

Dance

Romance

Work

Shirk

Naughty

Nosy

Silly

Me.

Available on Amazon for Kindle and Kindle Unlimited:

Rules, Rhymes, Recovery, Recipe, Random – Glad About Life – https://amzn.eu/d/1ljZIDA

A Woman, a Dog & a Blog – Writing into Life – https://amzn.eu/d/0wj6lWa

The paperback versions will be available soon.

Talking

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First published 18 November 2020

Photo by Cup of Couple on Pexels.com

I’ve never been very good at talking.

At primary school I was cast as a mouse in the school play: all I had to do was say “squeak, squeak”.

The career advice I was given at secondary school was to become a librarian. 

I didn’t want to become a librarian (or be a mouse) – I wanted to be able to speak.

There have been times in my life when I felt, finally, that some degree of fluency was coming through. But I’ve never quite reached the point of feeling that I could say what I wanted or needed to say, in any given situation. I think that’s why I’ve turned to writing poetry, because however much the spoken word evades me, and for whatever reason, I can express myself in poetry, one way or another.  It doesn’t mean I don’t end up feeling ‘dumb’ and stupid in conversation when my brain can’t tune in to what is being said.  However, in more positive moments I can also reflect on the many facets of communication, and the importance of being heard, in one way or another.

Day 27

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Continuing the story of Lydia and Me

There were eight of us at the poetry group meeting this morning.

I hadn’t had breakfast before I went but I felt nourished by the nature of the group, sharing words that we’d prepared and formed in whatever ways we wanted to.

On the way home, needing food for body as well as soul, I bought buns and vanilla slices for me and Trev.

I then headed out again for the Open Day at the kennels that I take Lydia to when we’re away.

The kennels have a rescue and rehoming facility as well as the business side, so I like to support them in whatever way that I can. There were plenty of other people there to support them too.

Lydia and I had a rest together this afternoon. The importance of rest is a lesson that I’ve been learning only recently. Sometimes, the time and circumstances just have to be right.

Van Gogh featured in the discussion at the poetry group. He struggled to rest, with all the complex thoughts and influences going on in his mind, channelling his energies through paint. Quite how he found the focus for this I don’t know, in the time and circumstances that he lived in. But he did.

The theme for next month’s meeting was agreed and set as “something funny”.

I’m looking forward to thinking and writing about something funny. It’s time I had a good laugh. I’ve had to work hard and dig deep to turn my life around through decades of difficulties and distress.  Now is the time to start having fun.

Day 25

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Continuing the story of Lydia and Me

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

© Maggie Baker – Glad the Poet – 2025

I do now feel a sense of mental energy coming through; the tiredness was temporary; doing something constructive helped.

Day 9

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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

The Pebble, the Picture and the Plant

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First published 26 May 2020

Perfectly placed on a shelf, they appear to have arrived where they were always meant to be, the pebble, the picture and the plant. Which is odd really because pebbles are meant for beaches and pictures for art galleries or walls; plants can be anywhere that nature calls.

I’ve no idea where the plant came from apart from the supermarket where I picked it up. Or did it pick up me, with its green and white simplicity?

The plant is now closely proximal to the pebble and the picture, in a ceramic pot.

Three things together that I like a lot.

2020

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

Poetry Rule No. 9b Keep recycling to a minimum until you’ve got your other priorities right

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First published 18 May 2020

Cover

Don’t judge a book by its cover
don’t even begin to think that you know
what lies underneath
when every belief
that is written in time comes and goes

Don’t judge a book by its cover
for the pages are those that can lie and deceive
the wisdom of years
may appear as true fears
and the rest will come in as you weave

Don’t judge a book by its cover
when the story has not yet begun
Yet the time is right now
and in some way, somehow
what needs to be said will be done

Don’t judge a book by its cover
it’s only a matter of time and again
tattered and torn may be weary and worn
but it’s all the same in the end

Don’t judge a book by its cover
don’t even begin to think that you know
for it’s all in a muddle
and inside the middle
is a tale that is waiting to grow
so it will

2014

Rules, Rhymes, Recovery, Recipe, Random – Glad About Life:
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A Woman, a Dog & a Blog – Writing into Life:
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Poetry Rule No. 47 – Still in development (or should that be ‘instil development’?)

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First published 2nd April 2020

Fox, Alert

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.

1998, 2020 & 2025

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

Affirmations

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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

 

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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

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.)

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