outdoors

A Welsh ‘Walk’

July 14, 2023 yorkshirewelliesLeave a comment

What would you do if your work colleagues said they were walking up Mount Snowdon in a week’s time, and asked if you wanted to come along?! All in the name of charity, of course, and it’s not something most of us do just for fun on a Saturday!

Readers, I did not do what you did and politely decline – I jumped in without thinking or checking whether I could touch the bottom!

I rarely make hasty decisions – the opposite, in fact! – and when I do, there’s a price to pay somewhere along the line.

However, as I’d paid £30 for my coach seat, t-shirt, and medal, and we Yorkshirewomen don’t like wasting money, I stuck to my guns and set my alarm for 4am last Saturday (oh, foolish girl!).

Four of us went in one colleague’s car from Huddersfield to Bradford, and then on a coach from outside the Gurdwara. The hike up Mount Snowdon was the 11th run by KhalsaAid, an international NGO aiming to provide humanitarian aid in disaster areas and conflict zones around the world. They are guided by the Sikh principle of “Recognise the whole human race as one”, and I’ve rarely felt so welcomed by strangers.

A few hours later, we all hopped off the coach in the beautiful village of Llanberis, at the foot of Mount Snowdon, were given our t-shirts, offered fruit and water to get us going, and off we set, everyone at their own pace. Simple, yes…?!

It’s a hill, a flipping big hill, approximately 30% gradient most of the way up, and you feel that almost instantly with the first pull of nearer to 40%!

I am terribly unfit and overweight, and within ten minutes I thought ‘what have I done?’, in between pausing for breath. (Bad that I couldn’t think AND breathe at the same time…) Given that I work in a GP practice, and that two of my colleagues on this hike are clinicians who look after themselves, this did not bode well…

The weather was good for walking, mild and cloudy, not hot and sunny like it had been last year according to my friends, although a bit misty for taking many photos (I fondly thought that I’d be taking shedloads of photos to document my epic journey…!).

There were a few points where the hill levelled off to a mere 20% gradient, and my friends did keep stopping to wait for me, as I was always at the cow’s tail. After the best part of two hours we stopped for a pit stop, bit of a sit down and picnic amongst other hikers, before hauling ourselves upwards and onwards.

The mist/cloud started to come down thicker, almost like rain, but everyone we met on the way up or down seemed cheerful, almost like it was a pilgrimage of sorts. Trail runners marched uphill or ran downhill past us, part of a 24 hour endurance race – imagine going up and down that mountain several times over a day!! – and sheep dotted the landscape almost everywhere you looked.

I struggled so much to keep up, I was stopping every 10 mins or so to let the aches in my legs subside a bit, and to catch my breath. When you’re going upwards only, there’s no relenting, seldom any levelling out to catch your breath, you just have to keep going as best you can.

There’s a little railway running up and down the mountain, you can buy tickets at the bottom (but they were sold out), and the trains passed us regularly, those not too exhausted waving at the passengers, very ‘Railway Children’! Around 2K or so from the top is a slight tunnel, more of a single arch really, that carries the railway above the ground for several metres, and beyond this arch the valley opens up.

Stunning views appearing through the mists

Even in the slowly-clearing dreich mist the views were out of this world. As shattered as I was it was amazing! Once through the arch, the mist really came down, as if it was raining heavily, and the gradient towards the summit steepened even more, the loose shale underfoot a little dicey in places.

My legs were seriously wobbly and aching by this point, cramps in my calf and the beginnings of shin splints, too (I’m not selling this as an ideal weekend activity, am I?!), but we trudged on, me still firmly behind everyone else. Half a kilometre up the hill, I asked someone coming down how much longer until the top.

“Oh about 1.5 kilometres, a good 45 minutes including the queue to the actual summit”, she ruefully said, after asking whether I wanted honesty from her.

I caught up to my friends, but each step was an effort I’ve never had to make before, and nearly fell several times because my legs were refusing to cooperate. I confessed defeat, said I would never make the summit (this time) because of the pain in my legs, and let them continue without me – hoping they’d take a picture when they got to the top.

I turned back to the tiny tunnel and huddled there, cold and shivering, until the mist vanished. The view was even better when the mist went, such stunning landscape, and I realised just how far we’d climbed (the equivalent of nearly 180 floors according to my Fitbit!). The top of the mountain stretched a above me, and the valleys plunged greenly below, awe-inspiring in the real sense of the words.

My friends came back down, photo duly taken and no mishaps for them, thankfully. After a short sit down for them to regroup we set off again, downhill this time, and a much easier hike.

The views going down were superb, well worth the hike and waiting for the mist to clear, and I got chance for some great shots to add to my memory banks. At some points we were almost marching, grateful to not be climbing any more. Our feet, legs, and joints were letting us know how abused they were by this point, blisters forming very nicely, empty stomachs and full bladders also protesting the long day.

The final tarmac stretch approaching Llanberis was excruciating: toes stubbing into the front of walking boots, pounding the hard road surface was almost too much to bear – I think we could all have crawled or rolled down this bit!

Never been so grateful to be on horizontal ground as when we walked into Llanberis village! After a much-needed loo stop, we received finishers’ medals, and delicious food, drinks, and ice creams provided by the fabulous KhalsaAid volunteers – what amazing human beings they are!

Eventually set off just after 7pm, our fellow coach passengers much quieter than the morning journey, and I think everyone kicked off their boots to relieve their poor, aching feet!

Two days I was still aching and limping, as I’m sure my friends were, but I’ve done something big I’ve never done before, a bucket list thing I wasn’t planning if you like – proving that being courageous is never in vain! Something that’s stuck with me is that all those we travelled with, and other hikers supporting the charity, gave everything they had, stopped to offer support to anyone who needed it, and shared so much of themselves through the day – it’s reignited my faith in other people.

Do let me know if you’ve climbed Snowdon, or done something equally hard and outside your comfort zone – post a comment here or find me on Instagram, Facebook, or LinkedIn.

If you’d like to know more about KhalsaAid, please find them here, and consider offering them any support that you can.

Art

Are you sitting comfortably…?

June 10, 2023June 10, 2023 yorkshirewelliesLeave a comment

..then I’ll tell you a tale of a chair that I know, that was no longer wanted, was old and with holes,

but gained a new life in a local art show, and thrilled all its viewers to the tips of their souls.

On a cold winter’s day, so grey and so cold, an idea was planted and grew in the mind

Of our artist, breathed life and grew bold, and off she did go, inspiration to find.

The artist loves words, loves the colours they feel, their shapes on her pen, how they roll on her lips.

There are words that can harm, and ones that can heal, our artist chose words that would sail like ships.

She thought and she dreamed, she practised and sewed, did drawing and painting, she kept or she threw.

She thought and she cursed, whilst working she glowed, her needles and thread through textiles they flew.

Then came the time when decisions were made, final thoughts thought and final words picked.

To all her research a goodbye was bade, needles were readied and threads they were licked.

She wrote and she drilled, filled her chair with more holes, said prayers that the woodworms had left her enough,

Then she wove with bright threads, gave the chair a new soul, the gentle threads’ softness contrasting the rough.

The battered old chair, once thought to be doomed, spent a weekend in Saltaire, amongst fragrant herbs.

Cameras were clicked, and focuses zoomed, embroidery seen that delights and disturbs.

Quiet, and yet proud, the chair gently stood, near its ‘Habitat’ friends it’s now grown to love,

These all made with care, and equally good, I’d like to think Titus approves, from above.

* For more on my end of year piece for my FdA in Textiles Practice, do check out my Instagram here, and let me know here or on Instagram what you think about art, textiles, and writing!

Anna xx

Thoughts

New…

February 11, 2023 yorkshirewelliesLeave a comment

…definitions.

Not quite new year any more, as it’s February, almost St Valentine’s Day, and a whiff of spring around the corner!

New growth on my apple tree – now there’s a metaphor!

Happy new year anyway, as I realise it’s months since I last wrote here!

Why new? What’s the point? New what? Is the ‘old’ not good enough for now?

Of course, the not-new is plenty good enough – the familiar stops us being too stressed, the landmarks of routine help us to plan our journey through life.

However…

Familiarity doesn’t allow us to grow or change, it can stifle or bury, blocks innovation and imagination. Comfort is a safe haven, but, as Mark Twain is often quoted as saying – ‘a ship is safe in harbour, but that’s not what ships are built for.’

A ship is built to go out to sea, to weather storms, to protect those she carries.

Doing new things is the metaphorical equivalent of pulling up your anchor and leaving harbour. Maybe you’ll only go a few miles before circumstances bring you back again, to re-stock the ship and launch another day. Or perhaps it will be the start of a longer voyage, to new places, people, and experiences.

Where would the human race be if we’d never tried anything new? What if our ancestors hadn’t investigated fire, or had big thoughts, played with mark-making, or wandered away from their homes?

I know I’m often guilty of not wanting to try something new, being firmly wedded to my comfort zone! I’m a first-class over-thinker and recovering perfectionist, with a penchant for total inaction – even when my logical brain knows that action would benefit me hugely!

That said, I know I’m improving, working towards launching my ship outside of that safe harbour, to leave port instead of tootling around the same few feet of deep water. As the daughter of a sea-faring man, I do love ocean-going references, so have an image in my head of my little harbour that’s so familiar and comforting.

(In case you were wondering, it’s an amalgamation of Cornish and East Yorkshire coastal harbours, with a touch of Tarbert, Argyll, chucked in…!)

A little investigation…

Being a word-nerd, I looked at words similar to ‘new’ – just look at some of those exciting words above!

Confirms what I said about our ancestors – the personification of these marvellous words!

I’m going to set you my first challenge of 2023…

Look at both the lists above – do any of those words sing to you? Are you ‘feeling the love’ of something new as we approach St Valentine’s Day?!

I challenge you to pick a word, tell me how it makes you feel inside (not just a dictionary definition, but gut feeling), and use it to try something new for YOU. Maybe you feel inspired to find your own ‘new’ word, and pull up the anchor a little today – next week or next month you might get outside your harbour, or even be half way to a new destination!

(See what I did there?!)

It doesn’t have be earth-shattering (but it could be!), and I will do the same – pop back and let me know in comments where you go, or pop onto my social media accounts (Instagram, Facebook) and have a chat with me about your ‘new’ – talk to you all soon!

Anna xx

Hello!

Simplifying Life With Food

July 4, 2022 yorkshirewellies3 Comments

Family favourite that stretches back decades

A couple of things recently have got me thinking about food (again!), and the stories and memories we all have around it – although I’m always interested in food and need little excuse to think or talk about it, share or enjoy it!

I was talking with my adult daughter about food costs, and how we both create meals in similar ways when we’re short of money – she learned from me, and I from my mum, although we all put our own spin on those lessons from childhood. The tools over the years may change, along with the ingredients, but the basics of thrifty shopping, batch cooking and freezing, using the whole oven, slow cooking, and so on, haven’t changed much since my mum learned (probably) similar lessons from my grandparents.

Home made cake for my youngest son several years ago, what memories!

The conversation awoke food memories from my childhood, connections across time between the 50-odd year old me of today and my childhood self – happy, sad, funny, they’re all worthy of remembrance, because they’re part of what made me.

When I cook familiar meals from my childhood, the chopping, stirring, and smells are a form of wizardry, culinary alchemy if you will, conjuring up visions of the tiny kitchen of my childhood home. Here, my sisters and I learned how to peel vegetables and bake, we ate breakfast at the tiny table, especially when my dad was away working. I can close my eyes and I’m transported back to my seat at our bigger, living room table: setting it for dinner or tea, occasional extra places if we had visitors, waiting for mum to bring the food in. Mum could make a meal from seemingly empty cupboards – creating healthy (and filling!) meals for three hungry little girls was no mean feat with next to no money!

There were amazingly happy meals, full of laughter and daftness, where we stuffed ourselves silly, but also ones filled with tension, anger, or sadness, when we were too choked up to eat. There were favourite meals and treats, and also food that I hated then, and loathe to this day, even with my mum’s amazing cooking skills. Liver and onions? Fried black pudding? Absolutely not! THE best soups I’ve ever had in my life? Home-made raspberry or bramble jam, on freshly made bread? Yes, please! The occasional roast chicken on Sunday, with crisp, slightly salty skin, that we fought over, followed by the rice pudding – whose skin we were happy for our parents to fight over!

We didn’t have a fridge until I was 11 in the late 70s, so mum bought fresh meat on the day and kept it in cool in the cellar, or sent one of us to the shop for frozen fish fingers just before tea – these were a rare treat indeed! Having a fridge with a tiny freezer meant that she could then shop when she liked, and keep said fish fingers for another day. Mum sometimes tried other food novelties in the 70s, but we usually preferred her cooking!

Close your eyes and listen to Lemn Sissay’s food stories!

This brings me to the other thing – an interview with Lemn Sissay on the BBC, where he was asked about his life in five dishes. As a fellow Northerner, a couple of these resonated, but it was the way he wove those food stories around his life experiences at the time of eating each dish that got me thinking. His description of arctic roll was filled with such nostalgia for me, too – have a listen to the interview, only half an hour but it will leave you longing for a chip butty, jerk chicken, or that arctic roll, even if you’ve never eaten them!

If we had to do the same – choose a handful of dishes that meant something to us throughout our lives – what would each of us choose?

Sharing my friend’s beautiful food along with honest conversation – priceless and memorable

Would you pick the safe, joyful food memories – the birthdays, celebrations, Christmas, weddings? Or would your choices be more painful, or sad – the mealtime when your parents fought, a loved one’s funeral tea? The first meal you cooked for a boyfriend or girlfriend, or the first one as a newly-single person? Is one more comfortable than the other? Maybe we could embrace all of them, surrender to the sad as well as the glad, remember the lost people AND the weddings, the uncomfortable situations AND the laughter.

If we sit around each other’s tables, share food and stories, tears and laughter, be vulnerable and authentic, then maybe we become stronger together, more connected. Maybe keeping the stories inside, unspoken and unshared, gives them a bigger hold over our memories – bringing them into the light of the tea table (yes, I’m a Yorkshire woman and we have dinner around 12-ish and tea about 5!) could diminish some of the pain or sadness when shared with others around that table.

Lemn said that ‘food simplifies matters’, and that neatly sums up what I’ve rambled about a little here – maybe we can’t solve the world’s problems over dinner or tea, but we can share each other’s pain and joy somewhat over a home made meal. I’d love to create spaces for people to come together with me, to share our favourite foods and our unspoken stories – definitely an idea brewing!

What five dishes would you choose to tell part of your life story? I’d love to know – please do share with me on any of the platforms where I have a seat at the table. Next blog post, or somewhere online, I’ll share five dishes that mean something to me – although I’m sure I could pick many more, as could we all!

Connect with me on Instagram, LinkedIn, or Facebook, and share your memories!

Hello!

Endings and Beginnings…

May 24, 2022 yorkshirewelliesLeave a comment

I’ve just reached the end of the first year of a Foundation Art degree in Textiles Practice at Bradford School of Art – long name for something wonderfully creative! It’s been a struggle at times, with a part time job and family demands to fit in alongside the course, but I’ve got through by the skin of my teeth. I now have a break until September, but I’m still going to be creating art – there’s a summer project for college (fairly low-key), I want to create art for ME, and I feel the need to write again.

Speaking of writing, I entered a competition at Kirklees College where I’m also a student (part of a group for parents) and won second prize – total surprise as I did it simply for the experience! Here’s my entry if you fancy a read – please do feed back in the comments, would love to hear what you think.

I Accept

River’s hands shook as she locked the car door, fingers suddenly unable to manipulate the key. Fear sat heavy in her stomach like a pound of lead, making her feet drag as she slowly opened the gate to the long path that snaked towards the old house.

She looked at her watch at the exact moment that her phone buzzed and vibrated with a text message. The phone fell from her startled fingers. Swearing at her own clumsiness, she picked up her phone and saw, “Where are you? We’re waiting! xx” followed by a string of smiles and heart emojis.

River sighed – almost a sob – and forced herself down the path to the door. Her mind was in spectacular overdrive, screaming at her to run away, warning her there’d be no acceptance here, just like at home, telling her to disappear without trace likes many other times: rejection was to be hers, always.

But hope always keeps a fierce, tiny fire burning inside River – maybe THIS time it would be alright, perhaps THESE people would turn out to be her tribe, finally…

She stood at the door, ancient wood creaking as it warmed in the late spring sunshine, the smell of wild lavender, rosemary, and mint wafting towards her from the madly, deliciously fragrant border.

About to let her dæmons win, she had just turned to retreat towards the gate when the door was flung open and Elspeth hurtled towards her in sheer delight, squealing about River’s new haircut, and how her parents were DYING to meet her, darling…!

Allowing Elspeth to drag her inside, River was suddenly picked up like a child by a huge bear of a man with eyes identical to Elspeth’s – he hugged her tightly, with a hint of tears in his gorgeous green eyes, and pecked her cheek.

Barely had she drawn back in the breath he’d squashed out of her than Elspeth’s mum swept River into HER arms, clouds of flowery perfume accompanying each movement.

Wide-eyed with shock, River gawped at the couple – so different from her stiff, unyielding parents, clinically cold in their judgement of her, and of who she was.

Elspeth’s parents were excited to meet her – yes, the River who’d been cut off by her family for the supposed sin of changing her name and coming out at the grand old age of 30. River, who’d been rejected by those who should have accepted all her differences, now stood in the embrace of her fiancée and her delighted, accepting parents. There was an older brother, who kept grinning and ruffling her hair like he was HER brother, and a younger sister who demanded to know where River had got her boots. Last, but not least, the most beautiful black cat with startling blue eyes – the double of her beloved Shadow she’d had to leave when her parents rejected her for the last time – wound itself around her ankles, purring loudly.

For the first time ever, she felt truly at home, accepted for herself, and part of a family.

Finis

The rules stated that the story had to be under 600 words, so I had to edit my original – prompted by an idea during one of Juliet’s writing club sessions. I’ve always loved writing, it’s given me a creative outlet for years when I felt I ‘couldn’t’ paint or draw, but I’ve gained confidence in myself through Juliet’s classes. If you’re curious about doing some writing, pop over to her website – here – for details.

Why not have a go at something creative, something you might not usually consider, stretch yourself a bit? You may be surprised at what happens, or maybe it sparks off something and takes you down an unexpected route, the ‘road less travelled’ and all that delicious uncertainty?! Let me know in the comments, or pop over to my Instagram account or Facebook page?

Hello!

Can I have a word…?

January 16, 2022 yorkshirewellies4 Comments

Words have always fascinated me: what we say and how we say it, the phrases we use in birthday or sympathy cards, words spoken in anger or in love, the thousands of books I’ve probably read, our endless interactions on social media with all its pitfalls, from how we encourage our babies to speak to the almost incomprehensible jargon of technical or legal documents. Words and language are so vital to being human that the deliberate withholding of them is often seen and used as punishment.

Some words are hard to write, but evoke wonderful memories!

We use words and language as weapons, to cut and hurt, but also as a warm blanket in which to wrap the lost and bereaved. We simplify our talk for children and those who don’t speak our language, and we also take delight in speaking other languages to show that we can communicate outside our own, sometimes narrow, communities. Words have huge power – writers, thinkers, scientists, and artists have recognised that for millennia – but many of us don’t think about this too deeply.

Our own self-talk shows how powerful words can be. How many times have you ‘talked’ yourself into or out of something? I wonder if you’ve ever convinced yourself that you’re an amazing human being, or that you’re totally worthless, just because of the words you’ve used? I think language is one of the greatest evolutionary developments in humans, and we don’t often appreciate it.

Humans have developed the most amazing, detailed, precise, descriptive, beautiful, but also bland and terrible words to communicate everything about their lives. From the humble shopping list, that carefully chosen verse in a card, the resignation letter, scientific research, years’ worth of diary keeping, school or college assignments, love letters, to critical theatre reviews, breaking up with a girl/boyfriend via text message, a letter confirming a medical diagnosis, the best and worst of literature, or cruel and shameful words that can break families or communities – we spill out our hearts, tell our stories, and send basic information with a myriad of word combinations. Words can change how we think, feel and believe, for better or worse; they can stop us in our tracks or they can offer support and guidance, they can even change or bring down societies.

Our choice of words can change how we feel about or approach our personal lives, too. It seems to be a thing at this time of year, when people are thinking about change, to choose a word (or words) to help guide or shape the months ahead. Using some simple exercises, you can work through a series of words, narrowing your list down to a handful from which you can choose (usually) one word to guide you through the year. Some people have more than one, have a separate word for different areas of their life, or change them through the year for various reasons.

I’d been thinking for a while about how I hoped 2022 might begin and progress, and then, lo and behold, not one but TWO of the groups I’m privileged to be part of both had a session discussing this very thing! I think the fact that both groups (Juliet and Clair’s WOW, and Deborah’s Impact) thought along the same lines tells me that 1) I’m so lucky to be involved with some amazing, like-minded people, and 2) during these dark, grey months of post-Christmas, we’re all looking ahead and hoping for or planning change – and happy for anything that helps this process!

Some people find this process of choosing a guiding word quick, easy work – they may have been thinking along the ‘right’ lines already, and just needed some focus to enable them to narrow down their choices. Others may need time to work out where they are right now before they can begin to think about their future, even just a couple of months ahead, and so the mild discipline of following some simple exercise is invaluable. Neither approach is wrong, there isn’t a wrong/right way with this stuff – it’s more about having some time to think about what matters to you, and how that word can lead you through times that might be challenging. It’s also about being open to changing your word if it doesn’t serve you, or if your ideas, plans, or circumstances change – don’t rigidly stick to your first word if it’s making you miserable!

You could think around the words you’re considering – see their dictionary definitions, look at words with similar meanings, consider how they might apply to your hopes and dreams for the year, maybe even try them on for size in another language – looking at things, especially words, from a different viewpoint often makes all the difference (rather like people, in fact!).

Shift sideways slightly for the meaning that fits

There’s a saying about a picture painting a thousand words, but if we didn’t have those words how could we begin to describe what that picture is telling us, what we feel when we observe it? How could we debate its merits with others, or how could we explain the image to someone from a different culture or who can’t see it (whether they’re blind or absent from our viewpoint)? Then that image becomes something that only the viewer can appreciate, love, hate, or absorb information from. We need those thousand words then to explain and understand our experiences.

Does this picture paint a few of those ‘thousand words’?

After all these words, are you wondering whether I chose a word or two to guide me through 2022?! Well, I’d had an inkling even before I did the exercises in each group, a couple of words have been whispering to me for some time, and finally I heard them. I keep coming across the following quote:

“Courage doesn’t always roar. Sometimes courage is the little voice at the end of the day that says I’ll try again tomorrow.” Mary Anne Radmacher

I’m usually a quiet person, I observe and rarely put my head above the parapet, and when I do speak out it’s because something matters deeply, so this quote sings to me. The root of the word courage is Latin for heart – cor – and later the French word coeur, and courage originally meant to speak from your heart, although it’s more often synonymous with heroism or bravery nowadays. I think that ‘courage’, with both meanings, is a word meant for me – speaking and behaving from my heart and becoming braver in what I say and do in 2022.

Even my morning cuppa quote is rather suggestive of courage!

I’m considering a second word, too, and I’m still working through this one. It’s somewhere around joy, happiness, contentment, beauty, glorious, but I’m still absorbing what these words mean to me before I decide. I also want (need?) it to work with ‘courage’, so I have a little work to do yet – I’ll let you know how I get on!

I’m curious about your guiding words for 2022 if you’ve chosen, could you share in the comments below? If you’re not choosing one/any, that’s perfectly fine, it’s not for everyone and we all have our own way with words!!

Hello!

Sun, Sea, And Fear…

August 4, 2021 yorkshirewellies1 Comment

After several months, maybe more, of various sorts of stress it was wonderful to spend last week in Newquay (Cornwall, UK, for international readers), and get outside in that marvellous coastal fresh air! I’ve wanted (needed?) some sea air for a LONG time, and it certainly didn’t disappoint.

There’s something about being near the sea that’s very different from other outdoor environments: even in a coastal town with traffic the air is somehow cleaner, fresher; the light is clearer by the coast, no wonder so many creatives and artists feel drawn to places like Newquay in order to paint/draw/write/make; and being so close to the sea itself is truly awesome, in the proper use of the word. Renoir, Monet, Hokusai, Turner, and so many others depict raging seas, catastrophic storms, or heroic sea battles, whilst Turner and Monet, plus artists such as Beryl Cook, have also immortalised more ‘seaside’ images of our fantastic coastlines.

Many a poem has been written about the sea, from Samuel Coleridge’s ‘Rime of the Ancient Mariner‘, to John Masefield’s ‘Sea Fever‘ (one of my favourites!), and Ariel’s song from Shakespeare’s ‘The Tempest‘. As with artists, there’s something that pulls writers and poets again and again towards the coast, that digs deep into the heart of island people who have a love and healthy respect for the beauty and power to be found at the edge where land and water meet.

I have the sea in my blood, as do many Brits I suspect: my dad and his father were both Merchant Navy men through and through, spending all their working lives on the sea, and both grew up near the sea; and my other grandad spent time in the Royal Navy during WW2. Some of my best days out/holidays as a child were spent by the sea – although we went many places, the sea definitely had me even then. However, as a poor swimmer and a fearful child in general, the sea has also always held a tiny dread for me: what if I get taken by the current? what happens if the ship sinks? and all the other nightmares we tell ourselves as scared little children, when we can’t swim, or we’re far away from home.

Part of that fear is totally normal and healthy, of course. It makes us cautious of getting too far out of our depth when we’re paddling at the seaside or taking our first sea swim. We wouldn’t last long if we disregarded the lifeguards’ or RNLI advice on how to be safe on the beach or out at sea. But that fear also grows disproportionately, and stops us from enjoying ourselves in this best of environments, can result in us being terrified of exploring even safe areas of the coast, frightened to have a dip in the sea (although in our often-cold seas that’s sensible!), or taking a boat trip.

Last week, during our trip to beautiful Cornwall, I was very brave (for me) and did things I’m usually fearful of doing. We went to Go Ape one day (a tree-top climbing adventure setting) and I clambered about on rickety rope and wood paths between the trees, 20 feet in the air. I was terrified at some points, and came close to panic at going further along the worst stretches, but had to continue so that my 14 year old (who’s also rather nervous of similar activities!) wouldn’t see just how scared I was. It was an important lesson for me. Firstly, that logically I knew I was safe, being tethered by a harness and strong ropes, and secondly that I could manage long enough to show my son that we CAN do hard or scary things, at least for a short while!

Second Big Thing was going out early one morning, alone, to sit and paint in Newquay harbour. I’m getting better at calling myself an artist, but perfectionism still gets the better of me and insists that I’m not really, and that I have to do the work over and over, to practice before doing the ‘real’ piece. I’ve also had a lifelong fear of being alone, so just leaving the guest house and walking to the harbour, even in daylight, was a Big Deal! Well, I sat there in the cool air, drew a few basic lines in pencil, and then PAINTED STRAIGHT AWAY!! I know it’s a normal thing, but sitting there, drawing straight from life, no second chances, trying to capture the changing light and the way the sea was gently rolling in and out, drew me in and I forgot that I’d gone out alone, no one was holding my hand and telling me it was ok.

My third Big Thing last week was actually going INTO the sea to swim around a bit with a lovely friend who moved down to Newquay several years ago. She’s a big advocate of stepping out of your comfort zone, of trying something different, and of sticking two fingers up at fear. On more than one occasion, she said to me, “What would you do if you weren’t scared?” Spot on, my friend! I’ve spent large parts of my life so far being too scared to try: in case it goes wrong; in case no one likes it (or me); what if I don’t like it, and all the rest.

Glennon Doyle speaks about doing Hard Things, whatever that looks like for each of us. In a similar way to my friend’s comment, she encourages us to try a little bit more, to face that uncertainty, and to accept that, yes, it may well go wrong. So what? Didn’t kill you, did it?! Most importantly, did/do YOU like it, and do you now have the confidence to try again, to push a little further?

That’s what this week has taught me, or rather opened my eyes to – that the things I’ve always feared aren’t as bad in the doing as in the imagining of them. I know I’ll slide backwards – progress isn’t linear, after all, but I’m choosing to believe that I am moving forward much more than I’m moving in reverse. My week of sun, sea, and a tiny dose of fear has been just what I needed to re-awaken my creativity, and inspire me to write, make, draw, and paint.

To this end, I’ve appropriated part of our garage as my dedicated art/creative space. Hubby’s stuff and cluttered shelves have been sorted/tidied/swept as needed, I have a couple of re-purposed filing cabinets to store a lot of my art materials, and have moved in an old table to work on, and even got brave enough to put fairy lights on hubby’s motorbike to soften mechanical look of the garage! It’s a work in progress, and I’ll post some more, updated photos next time, but starting the work is the Big Thing. I felt a little fearful in taking up space – literally and metaphorically – as I’ve absorbed a decades-old message of women being small and quiet, but that little voice in my heart is speaking a bit louder, boosted by the lovely Juliet and the others at WOW (see Juliet’s site for more info if you fancy joining us!)

…means glamourising the stuff I can’t move!

What is YOUR summer gifting you this year? I wish you the courage to face your little fears like I’m trying to do – and I think succeeding a bit, too! – and the excitement and realisation that it IS worth facing them, because on the other side are wonderful things!!

Let me know via the comments – I’d love to know what you all think!

You can join me over on Instagram, too! Find me at yorkshire_wellies.

Hello!

Who Are We?

May 12, 2021 yorkshirewellies4 Comments

Do you know who you are, what you do (or want to do), where you’ve come from, or where you’re going? You can answer these questions as frivolously or as deeply as you like, but I invite you to have a think before you frame a reply.

I can tell you all sorts about my childhood, jobs I’ve had, my family set-up, and so on, but I find it almost impossible to talk about ME – my wants and dreams, the things I love or dread, what excites me or terrifies me, my thoughts and feelings. Maybe it’s down to habits formed in early childhood, or perhaps a lifetime of busyness combined with people-pleasing, that old stereotype of daughter/wife/mum putting others before herself all the time.

Whatever the reason, I’ve got my early 50s without really knowing myself, but I feel a real desire to change this, and get to know what makes me ‘tick’. This might be very uncomfortable at times, and I might not like some of what I find out, but I’ve felt drawn to this work for a few years, and I’m also rather curious. I suppose it’s research, of a sort, into myself, with the end result being able to tell my story – past/present/future – for and to myself, but also to anyone interested enough in reading it.

Telling and writing stories I can do, but not when it comes to myself, it feels like showing off or putting myself front and centre. I feel torn between feeling invisible, and also not wanting to be noticed – a psychologist would find that very interesting, no doubt! However, talking to someone else about yourself, in a safe space, and then letting them tell your story feels more comfortable, and other people don’t have your emotional ties to the information.

To this end, I recently had a couple of conversations with Clair Wright, of A Social Nature, who has now launched her new offering of exactly this – telling your story. Some of it was a little emotional for me, probably will be for most people if you’re basically telling a brief version of your life story. Clair is very good at taking in everything you say, reflecting back, and asking more questions to get a sense of the answers to the questions I asked at the top of this post – and then turning all your ramblings into a coherent and well-written version of yourself. A great experience, especially when you’re trying to find out how/where you want to place yourself professionally, and will make an excellent springboard for next week’s post – watch this space!

Do you know yourself, what inspires or infuriates you, what makes your heart and soul sing, or cower in fear? I would love for you to let me know about yourself – pop down your thoughts in the comments!

Hello!

Out Of Hibernation

January 29, 2021 yorkshirewellies2 Comments

Hello, World, I’ve been submerged beneath a murky, deep blue-grey haze of anxiety, depression, and extreme weariness for a while until recently, only able to function like an automaton: fed everyone, bare bones of housework and grocery shopping, got to work. I was ‘here’ physically, but mentally not anywhere at all, really. Even before the massive changes to our lives these past ten or eleven months, I’ve often hated this time of year and its post-Christmas anti-climax. It’s cold, usually very grey, people don’t socialise much, and I feel in limbo with nothing creative to do or upcoming events. This week, I’m feeling more ‘awake’ and, for the first time in ages, my fingers are itching to write and create. I even offered to make my teenage son a drink this morning, to which he looked at me suspiciously, wondering what I was ‘after’!

Maybe it’s that we’re now past the shortest days, and there’s a bit more light in the world – literally and metaphorically – so we can feel our way back up to the surface, blinking a bit in the light. That light shows up how awful we feel or look, highlights the dust and mess in our homes and lives, but it can also show us the little things and people that we miss when it’s all so dark. I don’t feel quite as alone and adrift as I did; I’ve had some very much appreciated support from a few people to whom I blurted out how bad I was feeling. Human beings can be awesome at times! There suddenly seems to be some creative activity to get involved with, or maybe I haven’t noticed it until now, being so far below the surface. There are little whispers of hope and change in the form of Covid vaccines being rolled out, and the faint promise of life slowly returning to normal – the end may not be in sight yet, but it feels like it’s just over a hill that we haven’t crested yet.

Coming out of hibernation is a curious feeling: you feel like staying snuggled up in bed (whether literally against a cold, dark morning, or metaphorically retreating from the world) but you’re also aware of minute signs of the earth beginning to wake up, and your mind and body begin to wake in sync. Even when your heart and mind have been in dark places, those little clues that the world hasn’t ended start creeping their way into your soul, like persistent weeds slowly working their way through concrete. You become aware of those little parts of you that crave the sunlight, fresh air, and company coming back to the surface and, amazingly, you actually WANT to go outside into nature, to write and create beautiful things, even if it’s just in tiny bursts now and again. You begin to feel glad that you ARE still here, after all, that your world didn’t end, that you’re a semi colon and not a full stop!

This week, I’ve started painting again, done a bit more “proper” cooking, and even ironed a few bits of laundry!! I also treated myself to Sara Tasker’s “Hashtag Authentic“, which has been on my wish list for ages, and beginning to feel inspired once more – maybe Yorkshire Wellies and I do have a future together! Do visit Sara’s Instagram account for some amazing inspiration, it may encourage you in your own creativity. I’ve also signed up to a new writing course from my (also amazing!) friend, Juliet Thomas, of The Curious Creative Club, she’s such a powerhouse of energy and inspiration, another website and Instagram account I’d highly recommend investigating. Fearne Cotton’s “Speak Your Truth” is the other book I’m currently reading, very easy to read but also powerful, one more recommendation this week.

My second ‘book of the week’, excellent read, too!

I’ll keep this first post of 2021 short and sweet, but will be back next week with more to say, and with more creativity to share with you all! What’s your January looked like this year? Have you felt/been more positive, done anything new? Did you run at 2021 or have you eased yourself into it gradually?! Do let me know via the comments, or find me on Instagram at yorkshire_wellies and let’s have a chat!

Hello!

New year? Better, different?

December 31, 2020 yorkshirewelliesLeave a comment

A suggestion for a more contemplative new year?

Well, here we are at the end of the oddest year most of us have ever known! Sometimes, at the end of a year, we cast a glance behind us, maybe we note the highlights or things we’d rather forget, and then look forward just a little to the coming year and make a few plans.

Even those of us with bad mental health have had some good come out of this year. I’ve learned how much I value being able to slow down properly, not just in short bursts at the weekend, and I recognise when I need to say no to things, even if I can’t do it as often as I’d like! I’ve started to get to know myself – no mean feat in your early 50s! – and understand what professional help I need. I’m hopeful that 2021 will bring the resumption of much-needed mental health services for so many. This year I allowed myself to be more creative, with a little less perfectionism and self-criticism – oh, they’re still there, those faithful (faithless?!) companions, but I can nudge them into the background a little more than before.

Random dots, joined up to make a picture of sorts from 64 Million Artists’s challenge January 2020

Refreshing my embroidery skills at a class early in 2020

Late-night doodling when the urge to create took over!

Creativity in any shape has kept me sane this year, no exaggeration. Being creative is correlated with positive mental health, there’s so much evidence for this. There’s also evidence that NOT being creative is directly linked with poorer mental health – suggesting that the actual act of being creative positively affects mental health, that the lack of creative activity is detrimental to our well-being and development. Before you say ‘oh, but I’m not creative, I can’t draw/paint/sing…”, stop, and think for a minute. Human beings are inherently creative, it runs through our DNA, and has always been the driving force for our survival. Somewhere along the line, an ancient relative had the idea of building shelter to protect them from the elements, making tools from sticks and stones in order to increase the types of food they could eat – remember the old phrase ‘necessity is the mother of invention’? When faced with a problem, humans are usually pretty good at creating a solution. Unless you’re a Bear Grylls type and love going off-piste into the wilderness, you’re unlikely to be making a hut from branches and leaves, or foraging for berries and mushrooms, but you CAN build creativity into your life, consciously and with intent.

2020 has been chock-full of problems and challenges, but the unintended consequences have often been very positive. I bet you know at least one person who’s learned how to cook or bake from scratch, taught themselves a new skill or craft, done some gardening, or re-invented their home surroundings. Being forced away from our usual routines, and being able to explore in a way we haven’t done for decades, has been a game changer for many people I know, and they’re enjoying and keeping those changes. They’ve re-discovered something deeply buried that makes them feel different, something that matters, and they want to hang onto that. One family member started growing a few herbs and salads in her garden, and teaching her children to cook – now her vegetables consume most of the back garden and her children are masters of bread-making and roast dinners – valuable skills for the future and so enjoyable! A friend picked up her pencils and paintbrushes after a long hiatus and is now making some beautiful and amazing art.

My point is that we are all born makers, do-ers, dreamers, thinkers, artists, cooks, seamstresses, wanderers, teachers, writers, growers, architects, engineers, and so much more, whether we give ourselves conscious titles or not. We used to accept our natural abilities to do these things, and follow where our curiosity led us, but society has slowly specialised and categorised them. Our thinking has narrowed too much, and we often deny our inherent creativity; we classify skills and people rigidly, put ‘experts’ on pedestals and tell ourselves we’re not ‘good enough’; we talk ourselves out of (or overthink) activities that could be more relaxed and pleasurable.

This coming new year, as we’re still in uncertain times given both Covid and Brexit situations, we could give ourselves a new year gift of deliberately exploring some new form of creativity, to allow ourselves a little haven away from current anxieties. Who knows where it might lead?! You can find books, craft kits, and more, on offer in the sales – pick out one or two that won’t break the bank. The free Libby app allows you to electronically borrow library books; perhaps you could read something different, a new writer, some poetry – you may be inspired to write your own! If money’s too tight, have a wander of some creative websites. There are a number of creative challenges starting in January that often cost nothing more than your time.

Juliet, of The Curious Creative Club, talks about the power of playing around and experimenting in her current blog, if you fancy a read and some inspiration. She’s created a ‘play’ list of 12 different creative activities for 2021, you could try something similar; you may enjoy something totally new or go for the familiar in picking up a previous craft. 64 Million Artists (don’t be daunted by the title!) has a 3-way challenge for January. You can choose creative challenges by one of three inspiring creatives, or go off-piste to receive random challenges from any of the three. Then there’s Susan Yeates’ 30 Day Sketchbook Challenge, which is a marvellous, free-range way of interpreting and creating art. Sites like Instagram are full of creative images, ideas, and people to inspire you – if you follow an artist, singer, maker, see who THEY follow and discover some new creatives.

I’m going to explore some of my own ideas over the next year – some I’ve suggested above, and others haven’t quite taken shape yet – and see where they take me. How about joining me, and see what happens?! I’ll be sharing my 2021 over on my Instagram account, I’d love you to join me and share yours, too!

I’ll just leave you with the thought below, hope it makes you think as well as smile!