Earth Day

Yesterday was Earth Day*. I went into Carmarthen to join the Earth Day event that was being held there. Various organisations had set up information stalls, there were workshops including a fun all-day craft workshop for kids using recycled materials from the local scrap stores, and a series of talks and discussions.

Unfortunately I was only able to go along for part of the day, but when I arrived just after lunch I was saddened to see only about 25 people there (plus a few more in the foyer taking part in the recycled crafts workshops with their children). Carmarthen was bustling on a sunny Saturday afternoon, the event was well publicised, and yet only a handful of people seemed to have turned out.

Nevertheless, the overall mood was upbeat and positive. The people there were in full awareness of the dire threats to the Earth and Her survival, and yet there was a mood of 'Yes we can!'.

The one exception to this was an elderly man who, during a discussion about what we can and should be doing put forward the view that it was too late, we should have acted up to 100 years ago and our lack of action then means we and the planet are all doomed. When someone - humorously - asked him why he hadn't yet slashed his wrists, he thought for a while and then replied, "Because I want to live long enough to know I was right."

My reply to this was that if I was in his shoes I would want to be proved wrong, which kind of took the wind out of his sails!

Later on in the discussion I suggested a monthly e-newsletter to keep all the different projects around the area in touch with each other, sharing resources and information. I think I may have actually volunteered to get said newsletter up and running, which is a bit daunting but also meant I left with a smile on my face and the feeling I had contributed something useful to the day, despite not being able to be there for the whole event.

That evening, along with many others around the country, at 8.30pm GMT I turned all the lights and most of the appliances in the house off for an hour, and did some chores by the light of a solar-powered lantern to mark 'Earth Hour'.

On turning the computer back on afterwards, I was saddened to see a Facebook friend had posted a link to an article from the Daily Telegraph by Damian Thompson titled 'Beat the Earth Hour fascists and turn on your lights NOW!'. When I posted a comment about why I had observed Earth Hour and how sick I was of smug cynicism about ecological issues I was jumped on by many other commentators, mostly climate change deniers and paranoid conspiracy theorists.

It was sad end to a long day, book ended by people from extreme ends of the climate change issue. On the one hand the elderly man at Earth Day represented the 'Humans are evil and we thoroughly deserve the ecological holocaust we have unleashed on ourselves' end of the spectrum, and later the Facebook commentators represented the 'I won't be told what to do by holier than thou greenies who are making it all up anyway' point of view.

Amazingly, I am not (too) depressed by this, perhaps still carried along by the atmosphere of 'Yes we can!' I encountered from most people yesterday.

It is my opinion that this world is too unique, beautiful and sacred to let it be trashed and destroyed. It may be an insurmountable task we have ahead of us in trying to turn things around, but I for one will not give up trying.

* In the UK. Earth Day is celebrated by the US in April.

Some Mysterious March - Erm - 'Eccentricity'

My somewhat strange and deeply religious neighbour has recently been randomly lopping off small branches from his hedge and laying them 'lean-to' style across the ditch alongside the road.

I have no idea what this is for. Initially I thought he'd cut them but not had time to clear them away, but they have remained there for the last few weeks, so I guess they're where he intends them to be. But for what purpose? I wondered if it was to stop leaves etc getting in the ditch and damming it up, but frankly the branches themselves seem to be creating something of an obstacle. I decided to wait and see.

However, I have today discovered that he has also been randomly lopping bits out of my hedge. Some he has thrown into the ditch (so much for the 'stopping the ditch from getting blocked' theory), and some he has left poked back into my hedge.

I only noticed because a rather large branch of blackthorn had toppled out of my hedge and was partly obscuring the road. When I went to move it, assuming it had blown down in the recent strong winds, I found it had been neatly sawn off and then propped back upright in the hedge.

I don't think he's been attempting to do me a favour by sneakily trimming my overgrown hedge, as some bits that obviously need attention have been left alone. And the bits he's cut range from smallish twigs about a foot long to largeish branches about 6' in length. Ash, hazel and blackthorn as far as I can see.

I am mystified. Is this some strange Welsh custom I've never come across before? Has he completely lost the plot? Should I be worried, flattered or outraged? Am I about to be initiated into some dark secret of country life, wooed, or burned at the stake?

Anyone got any ideas??

Mother's Day

The sun is shining, the birds are singing, and I can even hear fledglings peeping in their hedgerow nests. It's Mother's Day and later I will be taking along a card and gift for my Mum and having lunch with her and Dad, which I'm really looking forward to.

This morning as I was lying in bed listening to the radio I heard a request for a song to be played for 'All those mothers who no longer have their children with them'. This of course applies to many situations - mothers whose children are being raised by someone else (children adopted, fostered, or being raised by their father for example) - but I think the person making the request was thinking more specifically of mothers whose children have died. One doesn't of course, stop being a mother or feeling the emotions of a mother just through separation or bereavement.

For the first time this morning though, I realised that I too fall into that category. I have mentioned here before my unfulfilled desire for children of my own, but what I haven't written about is that I did bear a child.

He was longed for and the pregnancy - after many years of trying - seemed like a prayer finally answered. Unfortunately, complications developed during the pregnancy and Peter was stillborn.

Losing a child at any age is unbearable, but losing a child before he is born puts you in a strange kind of limbo. Many people seemed to think it was kinder just to brush over the whole episode - "least said, soonest mended" - but in my experience I would say being able to talk about Peter, being allowed to hold him and spend time with him after the birth and then being able to give him a proper funeral was what gave me peace and closure.

The strange kind of limbo comes in the years afterwards. Do I count myself as a mother or not? What do I say when people ask if I have children? I usually just say no and leave it at that. It's mostly too complicated and painful to explain. But occasionally when I say I have no children I see the immediate assumptions being made. Oh, career came first. Oh, doesn't like children. Oh, chose to live the life of Reilly without the inconvenience of kids. That stings, even worse when it comes with the slightly judgemental, 'Oh, didn't you want a family?'

I suppose what I am trying to say this morning is that Motherhood - and Fatherhood for that matter - comes in many shapes and sizes. Women have children, have miscarriages, have stillbirths, have abortions. Children are adopted, fostered, raised by other family members; are abducted, run away, die. Shit happens, and we don't always have a choice in how things turn out. And that doesn't stop us being parents, or experiencing the love and pain that that involves.

So next time you ask someone if they have children, please don't make assumptions based on a 'yes' or 'no' answer. The story is almost always more complicated than that!

Happy Mother Day to ALL the mothers out there. Including me.

Thank You!

A heartfelt thank you to everyone who took the time to respond to my plea for help and advice. All of your comments were read, mulled over, dreamed on and appreciated. The wisdom I received from you undoubtedly helped me to re-frame my experience not as 'stuckness' but as a time of rest, hibernation, coccooning while I re-examined my options and pondered my future.

In the meantime the snow has come and gone and come again, but even on the chilliest days Spring is now unmistakeably in the air, and I am 'unfrozen'.

I have made the decision to leave my difficult job, and in fact handed in my notice this morning. I have come to see - helped by all your wise words - how it was sapping my strength and sucking me into depression, and I have decided that it is wiser to remove myself from that situation than continue on a downward spiral, even if I don't have a better job to go to at the moment.

I have plans and ideas - some only half formed - but most importantly a feeling of positivity about the future.

So thank you, each and every one of you. You have helped me more than you know.

Blessed Be.

5th Annual Poetry for Brigid Event

Feel free to copy the following to your blog/facebook/website and spread the word. Let poetry bless the blogosphere once again!

• WHAT: A Bloggers (Silent) Poetry Reading



• WHEN: Anytime February 2, 2010



• WHERE: Your blog



• WHY: To celebrate the Feast of Brigid, aka Groundhog Day



• HOW: Select a poem you like - by a favorite poet or one of your own - to post February 2nd.



• RSVP: If you plan to publish, feel free to leave a comment and link on this post. Please pass this invitation on.

I have participated in this event for the last couple of years. This year I'm posting early again as I have a busy week ahead. The poem I have selected I found in an anthology called 'Sweet Singers, An Anthology of Carmarthenshire Poems'. I love that it originated in my neck of the woods! I also like the subject matter (the magic that can arise from darkness), as it feels right for me personally at this time in my life, and also at a time of year (Imbolc) when we celebrate the returning light and the end of the dark days of winter.

Alchemy

We are in a state of continual transformation: fresh atoms are continually being reincorporated in us, while others that we received beforehand escape from us.

('De l'Infinito', Giordano Bruno)

Wonderful, what will come out of darkness:

stars, owl voices, sleep;

water, green shoots, bird's eggs

with their own curved darkness;

gemstones; a whole and perfect child

from my unseen recesses; delight

from behind shut lids, finding each other,

fingers and tongues made delicate by night.

Great magic's performed after sunset.

Old alchemists conjuring angels,

witches dancing spirals under the moon;

drum-shamans, their spirit journeys;

three nights in a tomb

Staging a resurrection. Transformations

taking place out of ordinary sight.

Daylight gives us boundaries, fixes

everything. The world separates

into colours and chemicals, figures

and faces. Surfaces appear solid

reliable, unconfused. We can see

to operate complex machinery.

Only darkness permits mixing

of elements, stirring of essences

in secret, combing dark and bright

into new patterns while we sleep; so dawn

finds us transformed, shifted.

Star-particles link us with trees

dolphins and stones, travel through us

creating the universe. Base matter

becomes gold: in the Cauldron

of Annwyn, in the crucible of mind

we're all magicians. The Hidden Stone,

Elixir of Life, eludes us; we've lost

the art of working through touch

with invisible forces: but as darkness

rises, and we grope wildly, perhaps

out of chaos the magic will come right.

- Hilary Llewellyn Williams

Frozen 2 - The Sequel

I've written on here before about the notion of being predicted by the weather. Once again I find the conditions outside - this time snowbound, frozen solid - mirror my internal process. I feel stuck, frozen, unsure of myself and hence unable to make any progress.

I have found a job, not easy in the current economic climate nor indeed in this area of the country. It's only a part time job, but I'm clinging onto it for now. After 15 years without a paying job, I know how important it is to keep my foot wedging open the door of employment. On the plus side, it is close to where I live and the people are nice. But - I hate it. It's both mind-numbingly boring and hard physically. I don't mind working hard if it's interesting, or being bored if it's easy. But this is hard and boring. Plus - I'm working alone which adds to the boredom factor. Not much use having lovely colleagues if your contact with them is minimal! The hours - a split shift - are horrible. And the pay is lousy.

All in all, not a great job. So I need to find something else. But what? After so many years outside the paid workforce I feel at a distinct disadvantage. Virtually everybody has more experience than me. It seems like a good idea to do some training in something, but to be honest, I'm not sure what I want to do. I was really drawn to the idea of working in Counselling, perhaps Grief Counselling, but I've been told it is not an easy field to make a living at. So I'm stuck, frozen, unsure of my next move.

At the same time I go back and forth in my mind wondering whether I should stay at Halfway Up A Hill, or make a clean break and move on. On the one hand, I have endeavoured since we moved here to make a connection with the land and really put down roots here. I have put a lot of effort into making this a permanent home. I also feel a part of the local community and have lovely neighbours. But...

Halfway Up A Hill is a lot for me to manage alone. It is really too big, and alone I am not physically able to keep on top of many of the jobs that need doing around the place. Though family, friends and IB help where they can, I still have a sense that the place is deteriorating faster than I can maintain it. And there are so many memories of my marriage to T here. Perhaps a clean break, a move to a smaller, more easily maintained property - still within this area - would be better?

Interestingly, in hunting out the URL for the post about being predicted by the weather, I found that I had already written a post entitled 'Frozen', almost exactly a year ago, which echoes - or foreshadows I suppose - some of my current feelings. Perhaps all this is just the winter blues. Or perhaps, as my wise and wonderful friend Anne Hill has just written, it is part of the ongoing struggle of Divorce: Year Two. I don't know.

I am frozen with indecision and quite frankly, yes, I am tired from the ongoing struggle. What I would like to ask anyone kind enough to comment is: What do you think? Any career tips? Any thoughts on moving? Any helpful words on how you got through your own divorce/career crisis/life crisis?

Any advice will be most gratefully received. Over to you...

RIP Blanche

R.I.P. Blanche, Head Chicken and Bossy Boots. 2003-2010