Category: People

Poems about relationships, friendships, beginnings and endings.

How one woman’s passion inspired others to fight for theirs …
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"... on sigriðarstigur
I wonder at my legacy 
such as it is 
I’ve been a leader of people 
driven by my values 
remaining true 
to who I’m meant to be ..."
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As I’m heading home from my trip, I’m ever conscious that there’s an obvious reason this feels different than other homecomings. For the first time since my student days, this has felt like a trip rather than a holiday. I won’t be heading back into the office on my return, as I have done so many times previously.

I can’t deny that my job has been a huge part of my life and my identity for three decades, and yet I’m reluctant to say that it defined me; I don’t think it ever did. I’ve known people who have been so invested in their professional roles that they can’t let go. I’m not one to judge, and maintaining links with your old firm, or working in a similar role beyond retirement, clearly works for many people. But for me, retiring is about starting a brand new chapter. I’m looking forward to having time to do other things that interest me (such as this blog!), to learn new skills and explore parts of the world I haven’t yet visited.

Which brings me to this week’s poem, which is based on the true story of an Icelandic woman who wouldn’t give up. She fought all her life to prevent a mighty waterfall, partly owned by her family, from being exploited for financial gain. Her father was tricked into selling the lease and she supported him in fighting a legal battle, which they ultimately lost. Despite the courts going against them, Gullfoss was left intact, because the new owners failed to honour the terms of the sale.

But that’s not the part that really inspired me. What inspired me most about Sigriður Tómasdóttir was her tenacity and her absolute passion for nature. She was determined that the waterfall be allowed to flow freely as it had always done. Not only that, her courage to stand up to officials inspired others within Iceland to respect nature on their doorstep. They began to appreciate nature for what it was, rather than what we might make it. As a result, many refer to Sigriður as Iceland’s first environmentalist.

This fight for her beloved waterfall was her life’s work. She was skilled in many other ways, but it was her commitment to Gullfoss’s cause, that defined her. I don’t think she would ever have let it go. It made me wonder what, if anything, would I hold onto because I cared so deeply. If not my professional role, then what?

I guess it boils down to the same thing that undoubtedly drove Sigriður: values. It was my values that determined the job I did and how I did it. It’s those same values that influence how I interact with others, and how I live my life. Perhaps that’s why I found it easy to let go of my professional role because the foundations on which it was built continue to shape me.

I wonder how aware Sigriður was of her legacy? She would’ve had no idea that a monument would be built to honour her at Gullfoss, and a walkway named after her. Do any of us truly appreciate our impact on others? My ex-boss used to quote Maya Angelou to her workforce on a regular basis: “people will forget what you did and said, but they won’t forget the way you made them feel”.

I did my best, on many occasions, not so much to impose my values on my team but to impart advice that was rooted in what I believed for myself. I trust they listened at least some of the time. I believe they did, and I watched them thrive with pride. The foundations have been set and that’s as much as I can do. I hope they will continue to thrive, which is also my hope for you. May the thing that you hold on to, whatever it is, bring you joy.

sigridarstigur Download
12/11/2025
How life is never the same following bereavement, but still, there is life …
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"... tonight in my kitchen 
as summer rain finally fell 
I listened to your playlist 
sang my heart out 
feet tapping 
hips swaying 
embracing the joy of life 
thankful for what we had 
and for all that is yet to be ..."
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I expect that everyone reading this will have been impacted by the loss of a loved one. It’s a funny thing, bereavement, you never know how it will affect you and each time is different. The circumstances will be unique for both the person who has died and for you who lives on. Experiencing bereavement as a young person will be very different to how you approach it as you get older. And, of course, your relationship with the person will shape your response to both the process of dying and their ultimate death.

You may lose someone suddenly and the shock of it can rock you to the core. You’ll probably regret all the things you never had chance to say; the things you planned to do together that never happened; the questions you always meant to ask but never found the right time or place. I’ve lost count of how many people have said to me, over the years, to remember to tell people that you love them and to say the hard things before it’s too late. It’s not easy advice to follow.

Then there are the anticipated losses: loved ones that have a terminal diagnosis. You foolishly think you’ll be prepared and you brace yourself for the worse. But no matter how much you think you’re ready to say goodbye, you won’t be. Even when you know that letting go is the best thing for them, it’s still hard. You grieve whilst they are dying and then you grieve again when death comes.

In my experience, you’ll be guided by them. When my dad was given a diagnosis of less than 6 months to live, he was very matter of fact about it, which meant I had to be as well. Loving a person means you respect their wishes, no matter how much it goes against your gut instinct.

I’ve always believed that the best way to honour the dead, is to live your life to the full. That’s what they would want for you, I’m sure. That’s how I’ve tried to approach every bereavement I’ve experienced and it does help, particularly when you go through tough times. It’s the best prompt there is to make the most of every day you have.

My best friend died from a rare cancer that she was determined to fight. Even when she went into the hospice for what we all knew were her last days, she was sure she was there for respite only. She died when she was just 49 and it felt utterly tragic. I didn’t think life would ever be the same and, true, in some ways it isn’t. There’s a hole in my life that no one else can fill. But lots of life carried on regardless, as it must. We did have the opportunity to say the things we wanted to say, and I’ll always be grateful for that. I’ll never forget the wisdom she bestowed, which has guided my days without her.

There are so many times I wish I could talk to her, but can’t. There have been rare occasions, since she died, when I’ve felt her presence so keenly and even heard her voice. At times that has brought me comfort, other times it’s given me a kick up the backside; always it makes me grateful for what we had.

I wrote this poem some years after Karen died. It was my way of telling her I was okay. We’d listened to a lot of music together, danced and sang our way through many a favourite track. For a long time, I couldn’t listen to the music we shared; the fact that I was able to enjoy music again reminded me that healing does come, life does go on and you do recover parts of yourself that you feared you’d lost. If recovery feels far from you right now, then be patient. It will come in time.

Since you’ve been gone Download
24/09/2025
How fictional characters can feel just as relevant as real people …
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"... what if we tried 
to let go
and let be
focus our energies 
on finding 
our true selves
we each could live
long and well
in our chosen skins ..."
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As a child, I was an avid reader and found my first heroes in the pages of books. Classics such as Heidi, Little Women and Black Beauty fired my imagination, but my favourite was Laura Ingalls Wilder and I read all the books as well as watched the series, Little House on the Prairie. I loved her fiery spirit and could very much relate to the curse of living under the shadow of the all-so-perfect older sister.

I think we all look to others for inspiration; they help us navigate through life, trying to understand who we are as people and where we fit. One of the first truly inspirational person I met in the flesh, was the wife of a family friend. Unlike other grown ups I’d encountered, she wore faded jeans and wandered around in bare feet. She was a terrible cook, and was often seen with an open paperback in her left hand as she stirred the pot with her right. I never saw her with make-up and the closest she got to grooming was to put her hair in a ponytail. She was a free spirit and I loved her for it.

It took me a long time to find my true self. To some this seems to come easy, but I’m sure it isn’t. As a child, I used to think everyone else’s family was normal and mine wasn’t. My parents divorced when I was in secondary school, which was unusual in the 1970’s. Now, of course, I know that normal simply doesn’t exist. I wish I’d learnt that sooner: it would’ve saved me a whole lot of angst!

When you don’t know who you truly are, it’s tempting to try to be something you are not. I’ve done that countless times through the decades. It never does work, at least not in my experience. No end of people trying to dissuade you seems to work either; you have to discover it for yourself. That said, I’ve lost count of how many incredible people I’ve met in life who have inspired me, either through something they have done or said, or simply in the way they choose to live. There were a handful of brilliant teachers, parents of friends, managers at work, and some public figures who particularly impressed me. I’ve been inspired by poets, songwriters, authors and their fictional characters. My life has been made all the richer due to people, real and fictional, that have helped shaped my character and I’m extremely grateful.

This is a very recent poem, written in the Faroe Islands, where I was lucky enough to visit the statute of the mythical seal woman of Mikladalur. This myth is not unique to these parts and, indeed, I read about such myths, and many more, in Sharon Blackie’s fascinating book, “If Women Rose Rooted”. It got me thinking about the seal woman and her mythical life. She was forced to live as a human for many years, wife to the man who stole her skin. What must that have been like, I thought, but then I realised that, sadly, it was perhaps not that unusual a story.

So many of us end up living a life not of our choosing and we may spend our lives searching for what we should be. The journey is all part of life isn’t it, and I think it matters as much as the destination, if not more so. It can feel frustrating at times and most paths are not linear. We go back and forth, learning and unlearning, most of our lives. That’s all part of the story and is made the richer for it. Wherever you are on your journey, I hope you find the path to your true self.

seal woman Download
10/09/2025