On A Personal Note –

Creating inner space as the outer self feels the restrictions of decline.

My view on New Year’s Eve. Lights glow through fog, the reflected outline of my bathroom door, like a portal, and the distant line of the Mendip Transmission Mast on the Mendip Hills.

We are most definitely living in challenging times, a prospect many anticipated, but watching it happen is sorely testing. I’ve done little of significance in terms of personal outer success and life has been quieter since my tour of poetry readings. No doubt this is because I am now dealing with the journey of ageing and as the outer self feels the restrictions of decline, creating inner space has become a priority. While the world is increasingly challenging, perhaps creating more spaciousness and loving kindness within, is important for us all.

I’m still writing and hopefully reflecting my soul-journey in my poetry. I was truly delighted to be voted poem of the month in June by readers of Ink Sweat and Tears with my poem, ‘Homeland’ – https://inksweatandtears.co.uk/june-2025-pick-of-the-month/ This poem is triggered by the Gaza conflict, which has affected me deeply. It reflects my feelings about displacement and connection to the land and tries to find a common ground to bring us together despite those determined to divide us.

One shining exception has filled me with pride. In 2025 I became part of a community project on my doorstep. Those familiar with the view from the back of my house, know just how special it is, with its sweet combe below, and far-reaching panorama of the Somerset Levels and Mendip Hills beyond. The farmer who owned its ancient cider orchards and wildlife, was a local icon known as Wilf the Eggman. He died intestate in 2024 and as a result his land was carved into lots and put up for auction. A group of us in the estate bordering the land were determined to save it from development. We strove for months to form a trust and fundraise enough to buy the top fields and ancient well in order to create a community memorial orchard. Against all odds and with the support of many in Glastonbury, we succeeded. The feeling of giving back to land that I’ve had the privilege of living alongside for over 25yrs is immensely satisfying; plus it has brought a community of neighbours together across divides and the future possibilities are heartening.

I wrote a year ago about the impact of the great ash tree being felled next door and how I reeled in shock. It was a significant loss which I felt was a metaphor for something much larger, a collective ground-shift. It has taken time to adjust to a much more exposed view, but the changes have also been positive. Having previously experienced the miracles that happen when people join together for the good of the whole, this project has been another, and I feel blessed. I no longer need the sight of that magnificent tree to make me feel anchored. Having given back to the land, I am more rooted than ever and look forward to the progress of our newly engaged relationship with the combe. I even wondered if this was the reason for my being brought to this house to live. I strongly believe this is the future, local communities becoming resilient by being kind to each other. As the outer world darkens and resources become less available, it is grassroot groups who will need each other to carry on. “Never doubt that a small group of people can change the world; indeed, it’s the only thing that ever has.” Margaret Mead.

Between Christmas and New Year, is a time when mini-disasters hit and resources are closed. This time I had my share, first my laptop wouldn’t charge and on a holiday Sunday I had to drive to Bath to the Apple Store (my local computer shop being shut). Two days later, my heating failed. Thankfully the Apple store worked its magic and then, like Santa, my plumber arrived with snow white beard and a bag of equipment to make my home warm again. I’m sharing this with you, because without all who helped me, I wouldn’t have got through. I’m thankful to the friends who offered and advised, to the assistants who welcomed, listened and held me with kindness, to the expert who found the problem and got it repaired, to the people I encountered with cheery conversation, and to my plumber. We are interdependent and it is the small acts of kindness which get us through. I end the year, hopefully having let go of an inner demon I battled with, leaving more spaciousness to let lovingkindness flow.