Tag: 2025

year in which poem was written

How I’ve made peace with time …
```
"... it’s amazing the gifts 
that come with now 
the sweet smell 
of morning air 
the sound of wind 
through trees 
sunshine warming skin 
so much it sighs ..." 
```
As I was approaching retirement, literally everyone I spoke to who was already on the other side of that journey told me, “I honestly don’t know where I found the time to work”, or “I’m busier now than ever …!” I’m sure this will sound familiar to most. If you are not retired yourself, you will undoubtedly know someone who is, and you will have heard these or similar comments.

Time is a funny thing isn’t it? It feels elastic and unsteady. I remember my dad telling me when I reached the grand age of 25, that future years would go faster and faster. At the time, I didn’t believe him. Surely, time is time, it’s fixed: so how can that make sense? But, turns out, he was right. I’ve certainly felt like time has passed at an increasingly alarming rate as I’ve ticked off the decades.

My relationship with time hasn’t always been a positive one. Looking back, it has led to stress and anxiety. Why? Because I’ve tried to chase it, contain it, understand it. All of it unsuccessfully. I’ve tried to make friends with it, filling it with things I love to do, negotiating with it how to divide up pockets of my day, in an effort to be more productive. Gosh, it sounds exhausting doesn’t it?

It was all fuelled by good intention, that’s the thing. I’ve never been one of those people who constantly complained about the lack of time. Rather, I approached it with positivity, hoping I think to love-bomb it into submission. It didn’t work.

Finally, in my 60th year, I think I’ve cracked the secret. I’ve made my peace with time. I’ve realised that I can’t control it, I can only respond to it. Goodness knows why it took me so long! During my recent travels, my relationship with time changed, in a positive way. I accepted time for what it was: inevitable and therefore, in some ways, irrelevant. I didn’t have to negotiate with it, or try to understand it. I just had to let it be, and get on with my life regardless. It felt so liberating!

Don’t get me wrong, I know that time cannot simply be ignored. I was taught from the earliest age that punctuality mattered greatly; I still believe that. To turn up late is a sign of disrespect in my book. We’d live in a world of chaos if we didn’t operate according to a 24 hour clock. We need to know when to turn up for a train, when to attend a scheduled appointment and, most importantly, what time to take a cake out of the oven!

All that said, I’ve stopped trying to pack as much into my day as I can. I’ve let go of planning every minute of my life. It’s okay not to have plans and to simply respond to your mood. It’s refreshing to change your mind about your day based, for example, on the weather. It can be hugely rewarding to have space in your diary, so that if a friend contacts you to say, “are you free for a coffee?”, you can actually say yes!

Someone once told me that the greatest gift you can bestow on another is the gift of time. I’ve spent my life doing just that and, for the most part, gifting my time to others willingly with love. But what I’ve started to do increasingly is gift myself. I’ve made a conscious decision to do my best to live in the moment. I know, I know, it sounds so corny. But if being alive to my surroundings, conscious of how I am feeling right now, is corny, then so be it. I’m as much at peace with that as with time itself.

time Download
21/01/2026
Knowing what to cut and what to keep …
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"... I’ll prune back
and pull up
what feels right
trusting what is rich
and resilient 
will thrive regardless
enriching my life
for many a year ..."
```
It’s fair to say that we are now officially in winter but I’m still thinking back to autumn. It’s that time of year when keen gardeners are at work tidying the garden, cutting stuff back and preparing for the winter ahead. If you’ve ever seen my garden, you’ll know that I’m not one of those people. I’ve never had the time to invest in my garden. Maybe that will come in due course, but right now, I’ve got other priorities.

As the year is turning, it’s timely to consider what other aspects of life would benefit from some serious pruning. What’s good enough for nature is good enough for me. No matter how fulfilled we feel in life, there’ll be something or someone that sucks us of energy. Like trees, there are times when I’ve felt the need to hunker down for winter, let go of all the unnecessary extras and preserve my energy. I bet I’m not the only one.

I wrote this week’s poem in the days following retirement; I felt immediately different and that feeling continues. There’s all the obvious stuff, like re-discovering the joy of sleep, and the luxury of choosing what to do with my days. People thought I might suffer an identity crisis, given my job was so much a part of who I was; I haven’t felt that. I’ve been happy to ditch my office wear, all of which has either been sold on Vinted or donated to friends. I haven’t spent a single penny on make-up for months; my skin is glowing, super thankful that Ive ditched the daily ritual of putting on the paint.

What I’m finding hardest are the relationships with work colleagues, some of whom became friends. Some, but not all. Don’t get me wrong. I was lucky enough to get on well with 99% of work colleagues and am happy to call them acquaintances. If I bumped into them in the street, I’d say hello. If they needed my help, I’d give it gladly. But I’m seriously thinking about the people I want to stay in touch with and those I’m happy to let go. It’s not easy.

I’m afraid I’ll go too far, prune harshly, and perhaps kill relationships that had a chance to develop into genuine friendships not based on work. Does that make sense? Does anyone else feel this? Already I’m surprised by the people who have worked hard to stay in touch and those that haven’t. But I’m realistic. For a start, they’re all still working; I do remember how demanding it is and I completely understand that I’m not top of their priority list. I may not even be on the priority list, which is also fine. They all have lives to lead: young mums, single parents, shift workers, carers … they’re busy juggling a lot in their lives besides work. A colleague who retired a few years before me annoyed me intensely by frequently calling unannounced and asking if I was free for a coffee. Er no … I’m in a meeting, or I’m writing a paper … I’m at bloody work remember?

Meanwhile, I am navigating my way. Keeping in touch with those I care about and hoping that I’m not being a nuisance. It will all work out in the end. It always does. Sure as autumn gives way to winter and winter to spring, new life will grow and, solid friends, like perennials, will rise to the surface when the the time is right.

pruning Download
31/12/2025
How to survive Christmas …
```
"... I can’t be the only one
planning an escape 
on a boat built for one 
simple but spacious 
room enough 
to stretch out 
on long lazy days 
held in the embrace 
of a forgiving sea ..."
```
There’s part of me wondering if I’m swimming against the tide this week but instinct suggests otherwise. I feel sure I won’t be the only one wondering how on earth it came to be Christmas week already. I can hear half the country protesting that they’re not ready, even whilst some will be feeling quietly smug, their preparations all in hand. But it is never that simple is it, and there will be a fair few, hiding on the periphery, who don’t feel invested at all, for all manner of reasons.

Christmas is complicated! Many may well feel frustrated that it’s a challenge to find the Christmas story in the midst of the hyper-consumerism that has completely taken over this festive holiday. In addition to the buying of far too many gifts, there’s the food and drink that adds additional pressure as well as extra pounds. And when did the Christmas trim-up become a competitive sport?

All that said, it can be infectious. I was in York on Sunday for a Winter Solstice concert and went into town early to soak up some of the Christmas atmosphere. Despite the dampening weather, the lights looked magical and the crowds were jovial. It was easy to be swept along, tempted by a mince pie and a yearning for snow.

What is it about Christmas that makes so many of us nostalgic for a Christmas past? Perhaps some of us are impossibly optimistic for the Christmas present? Whatever it is, I suspect our feelings will be fuelled by love: the reality of it, the loss of it, the yearning for it.

Whatever your plans for Christmas, I think it’s safe to say that you’ll have to be flexible. No matter how well organised, you’ll forget something. No matter how meticulously orchestrated, something or someone will put a spanner in the works. Isn’t it always the way? And if you are not organised, don’t panic, it’s unlikely to end in disaster. Something or someone will probably turn up to fill the gap that you didn’t manage to fill yourself.

Not everyone will be with people they love. Not everyone will spend the day as they chose. Some people will chose to be alone, whilst others will be lonely. Some will relish the opportunity to “do” Christmas, whilst others will feel exhausted by the whole thing. The reality is that most of us will feel all of these things at various stages in the proceedings. Like a good old Christmas buffet, we’ll tuck into portions of happiness, joy, frustration, anger and jealousy. We’re human after all.

This week’s poem is not about Christmas per se, but about that feeling many of us may experience when it all gets too much. At this time of year, I’m sure many of you can relate. I’ve been listening recently to a new podcast by the wonderful Katherine May (author of the brilliant book, Wintering), called The Clearing. Each week she interviews her guest about their imagined place of retreat, and it got me thinking about how I choose to withdraw from the world. This is not a negative act at all but one of self-preservation. I need to retreat into silence sometimes in order to reconnect with my inner voice, the one that always seems to know the way. Only then can I go back into the world, with renewed purpose and energy. I feel sure I’ll need to do that throughout the festive period, which is perfectly normal. Well, it’s normal for me at any rate and, like the poem says, I’m sure I’m not alone in that.

My hope for you this Christmas week is that you enjoy it, however you spend it, and that you remember to look after your own needs as well as everyone else’s. If you do, I can guarantee a much happier Christmas!

retreat Download
24/12/2025