Tag Archives: loneliness

Nature’s salvation


How do you ask your friends and families for help when for most of your life you have been the strong one? The one who has always sorted out everyone else’s problems.

How do you cope when your body betrays you?

How do you keep your body, soul and heart intact when loneliness attacks after seventeen years of living alone?

That is my life in a nutshell. I ask myself these questions every day. No-one answers. Not with real solutions anyway.

It was my choice to live alone, but it wasn’t part of the plan to still be alone nearly two decades later.

I have always kept my body well-nourished and reasonably fit despite a variety of health issues over the years, all dealt with, yet in the end pure happenstance had me falling down a flight of concrete steps and damaging my spine and hip. Perhaps it would have been a lot worse if not for my interest in alternative therapies, good nutrition and yoga. But still – when all is said and done, I am severely limited now in my mobility – no more cycling, no more long distance walks, and worst of all – no more dancing.

And now, in my need and awaiting an operation that might just give me full mobility and might just as easily not, I find it hard to ask for help when, maybe, my family do not understand just how damaged I am.

So, I have to authenticate my life in other ways. I write and paint, meditate and read. My novel is almost finished; I’ve sold a few paintings … but I’m still alone, and fighting just like I have done all my life because I will not give in … to age, to my injuries, to my loneliness. It just doesn’t quite make up for being alone no matter how many afternoon teas and cake I partake of, how many poems or stories I write, how many pictures I paint, or how much meditating I do. And yet, on most days, I am content

Like today, I am sitting at my laptop, writing this to the songs of birds hopping about in my heavenly, flower and herb filled wildlife garden. On sunny evenings it is also full of delicious scents. I meditate there whenever the weather allows and get all the authentication I need through nature. The birds, bats, frogs and toads that inhabit my garden, the fox that flits through it, have become my companions; the bees and other insects my helpmates; even the snails have something to teach me. Nature infiltrates my writing, my painting and my dreams – my tiny urban garden, and the artistry it inspires – has become my salvation. Within this context, the words of the campaigners of the sixties, my era,  are relevant … I will overcome! 

vintage rose




Soul Beacon


Written to express my loneliness – sending out a beacon of love …

Soul Beacon

Dark sky a starry, starry quilt

A light across the heavens spilt

My soul a beacon in the night

To guide you home, the web pulls tight


Wild sea an angry raging wrath

But moonlight paints a silver path

My loving net, to point the way,

And catch your soul adrift in spray


Storm whipped winds spin through the sky

Tossing clouds and spells awry

Deliver safe my heartfelt plea

A lodestone for the lost, to be


Bright rainbow forms a bridge of sighs

A link to you across the skies

The wavelengths of my soul I send

Searching, flowing wide they wend


The ancient rocks with strength embedded

Tremble with the tears I shed

As I await a sign that speaks

Of the missing, found – that my heart seeks


Old trees a conduit of my dreams

Their whispers, through the ages, stream

To fill your heart, your love awaken

A message sent, its meaning taken


Your heart sits softly in my hand

Its beat drums out cross sea or land                                       

Of steadfast love its pulses rhyme

Pounding down through space and time


Flaming star betwixt the clouds

The sign awaited, banish doubt

Allowing hope to rise and bloom

To burn away such aching gloom


Cold snow a drifting, dancing mist

By snowflakes soft, my face is kissed

In lieu of you; then swirling round

They paint your face on frozen ground


Dawn’s sun a globe of molten gold

 Its rays reach out my heart to hold

And melt the ice where footsteps sound

By soul light’s beacon, heart-home found

Mindful Meditation Course – my connections with the Earth


Earth bubble meditation

For my first mindful meditation exercise I was asked to reflect on what the Earth meant to me – how it nurtured me. It was delightful and I churned out the usual clichés of firm foundations, food, water, oxygen, cycles of life and death etc. etc.

But it’s not true – that’s how I want it to be, not how it is! What does it really feel like – standing here, on the earth, at this time in my life – possibly how it’s been for all of my life? In reality, it feels like I’m standing on the edge of a volcano – as per Torville & Dean’s Bolero dance, or at the end of a road, like that at Aldbrough, the one that just ends in a warning sign as it steadily falls, yard by yard, metre by metre, year by year, into the ocean – ripped from the very foundations of rock and chalk and sedimentary mud. At any moment, I feel as if I might tumble over the edge of that broken road into the loving arms and relative freedom of the wild, wide ocean, or plummet into the burning purity of the volcano – no lover to keep me company though – no lovers pact there; or worse that gravity will fail and I will drift off into the void, no longer connected to this earth at all – I will just float off drifting, hopefully peacefully, in space forever – a pathetic and eternal monument to a broken heart.

And isn’t that what I yearn for anyway – as Stardancer – to soar off into the vast dark emptiness, and dance amongst the stars.

How can I be connected and nurtured if all I ever want is to vanish into my fantasy world – one so much nicer than this one, where I’m loved and protected and strong and necessary. Instead I’m slowly and inexorably dissolving into invisibility and nothingness.

Despite my love of gardening and environmental issues; despite regular grounding exercises; my use of haematite crystals and aromatherapy oils; my Qabala tree meditations; my Happiness group (where I seem able to help everyone but myself) … my connection with earth is tenuous and becoming more so as each day passes. Each empty day … when I wake wondering if today is the day everything changes; it never does, of course.

So piece by piece, thread by thread, I disconnect those links with earth, preferring my inner world of subconscious and conscious dreams. Will I really disappear, will one day, someone come to visit and find nothing left of me except an empty pile of clothes on the floor or a rumpled heap of bed linen, whilst I swan off to … well … actually … that’s private. Anyway, let me say – wherever it is, I welcome it, it cannot come too soon; but, hell, even this doesn’t materialise – I’m even invisible to my dreams.

I’m not depressed – please don’t get me wrong … just lost, and invisible, and disconnected … yet with so much love in my heart for this beautiful Earth, and so much more love to give elsewhere to whoever, whatever, whenever … here, or in desperation, elsewhere. No not depressed, just a tiny bit mad, I think. Now I’m justifying the unjustifiable and unnecessary – and that’s self pity. Not a good look!