New Year's Day

 

 I drew breath sharply through clenched teeth as I stepped gingerly down the slippery stone steps of the ancient well, it’s water’s a constant 11 degrees rising painfully up my bare thighs, making my heart race and mind swim.

Above me the bare branches of oak, beech and ash forming a crooked and bleak web-like roof beneath a stony grey sky, and surrounding bare earth, all muddy, wet roots and rotting damp leaves reminded me that we were in the midst of winter.  Why then would I be choosing to plunge my body into the icy waters of St Anthony’s Well on this rather unpromising and uninviting day?

I wasn’t the only brave, or perhaps mad soul who had chosen to be metaphorically baptised by the Forest on this gloomy day, because this was a spot where many people came to feel the refreshing exhilaration of the well, in addition to experiencing it’s supposed healing powers and ancient mystery.

 It was the first of January 2026 and people came, both Forester and Outsider alike to be re-born, refreshed and renewed by the ancient waters of the well.  We weren’t the first of course, people had been coming to this spot for centuries.  Thought to be build by the monks of what was once the nearby Flaxley Abbey, in the 18^th Century, though having been used for ritual purposes for hundreds, perhaps thousands of years before.  I wasn’t there for the history though; I was there to wash off the old year and begin the new cleansed and refreshed. 

Refreshing was one word to use for the cool crisp waters which lapped deceptively  peacefully inside the square stone pool, I girded myself with several deep breaths and hands clenched together, prayer-like under my chin, as if calling on God for succour, I summoned my courage and dunked myself up to the neck, holding myself in the water and counting a minute before raising myself up, reborn into the cool, damp air of the Forest.  I beat a hasty exit up the algae covered steps and quickly wrapped up in a fluffy dressing gown, legs red raw, teeth chattering and shivering all over.

What a way to start the year, surrounded by the wonder of nature however bleak it appeared at this time of year. The pain and discomfort were worth it for the cleansing feeling experienced after a dip, and after hastily and awkwardly drying and dressing myself under a dressing gown, I sat with two friends and slowly began to thaw with the help of a hot tea and warming chatter, watching whilst other brave pilgrims took their turn in the sacred pool.

January 2026 was my fifth winter in the Forest of Dean, and I was gradually becoming accustomed to the features of its seasons, landscape, flora and fauna as the year rolled on. A wet and cool part of the country, especially on the higher ground where I had made my home with my husband and four sons, but enchanting and magical, mysterious and captivating as well.  We were well compensated for its dampness and cold by its beauty and abundance, and I looked forward to another year to explore and learning about this unique place which was The Forest of Dean. 

Turning 40 - Why I'm not giving up on my dreams and neither should you

 In episode 1 of The Good Life, a 1970's sit-com based in Surbiton, England, following the story of the Goods, a couple who decide to quit the rat-race and try their hand at self-sufficiency, we see Tom Good turn 40.  

As a young 20 year old in her second year at University watching the series on VHS on my little TV in my bedroom, the Goods seemed ancient, but they inspired in me the seed of a dream that I had to one day become self sufficient myself.  If they could pick up at 40, living in a suburban house and become self-sufficient then I, with a whole twenty years extra time ahead of me, could easily achieve this dream.

Well now I'm 40 and I'm not self-sufficient.

What happened?  Well life happened, I had no house, no land to be self-sufficient on, so I had to get a job, I trained to become a teacher, got a mortgage (but not for a big house with land because who can afford that on a teachers income in Berkshire!?), I got married, then I had a child, then another, then two more, and now... here I am. In a house full of kids, no chickens, no goat, a few sad veg that grow as a testament to the little spark that still resides in my chest, waiting to be kindled into a flame. 

I'm pretty happy with my life though.  I think I have achieved some great things in my 40 years, things that I'm really proud of.  I've grown so much as a person through the trials and the joys that I have experienced over the years, they have embroidered many layers into my personality and identity, layers of wisdom, contentment, self-sacrifice, resilience and strength, and I've really enjoyed getting to know myself in deeper and more profound ways.  I'm proud of this person that I am, that I've become, that I am becoming. And not achieving my dream of self-sufficiency doesn't mean that I've lost anything or failed, it's just...well...life. It turned out differently than I imagined.  

I've had many adventures in my 40 years, which at the time I thought were side quests, distractions from my main goal of becoming self-sufficient, but in the end became THE quest.  Submitting to this quest has been one of the hardest and most joyful journeys of my life.  I never would have guessed all those years ago that self-sufficiency would become a side quest.  

In my defence though there are reasons my life did not exactly emulate the Goods, for one thing, unlike the Goods, my husband and I decided to have children.  Also, and I don't know if this is due to the economy now verses the 1970's or simply because of the children, but in episode 1 Tom reveals that they have paid off the mortgage. Imagine that!!  Being mortgage free at the age of 40.  Was that the norm back then?  (Please let me know in the comments if you know).  We still have a pretty substantial amount to pay off our mortgage which requires work, which means one less person for all the milking and growing, bartering, digging and egg collecting (and that one person has been pretty occupied by the child rearing!).  I also have a husband who does not share the self-sufficiency dream. Tom was quite easily able to persuade his wife Barbara that becoming self sufficient was a great idea, my husband isn't so keen.  

So what's to do?  Give up on the dream?  That's what most people do isn't it.  They decide, or perhaps realise that their dream isn't really their dream any more, or that in fact it isn't achievable, but I'm not ready to give up yet.  

The Goods became self-sufficient when they were in their 40s and so can I! (there is that slight issues of the mortgage needing paying for but let's put that to one side for now.)

At the moment my main quest, my mission is my children, home educating them and helping them become ready to be independent people in the world. 

But oh the side quests!!

Some days I wish I wasn't a person who had side quests, if only I could put aside all that and just be a mum, focus all my attention on that.  For some reason God didn't make me that way, He made me to have multiple interests all at once.  There's the Art side quest (that was once my main quest too), I love art, it is something that brings me so much joy and peace, expressing myself though paint is a rare but nourishing treat.  Then there is the writing side quest, I absolutely love writing, putting a message out there, encouraging others with my words, maybe even improving our income a little bit with various projects (stay tuned for the book I'm writing!), then there is the self-sufficiency side quest that I've already mentioned.  These days I prefer to call this "homesteading" which sounds terribly American, but like the American "Homemaker" over "Housewife" describes better what I am aiming for I think.  Self-sufficiency feels a bit like I want to cut myself off from community and I don't want that, I also feel it alludes to spiritual self-sufficiency which I also don't want. Homesteading is more about growing what we need, preserving that and using our skills to provide for ourselves or create a small income.   Of course my homesteading side quest is very meagre, my little garden of veggies, my efforts to make bread and other food from scratch, to forage what I can, to break away from the system that ties us into working "for the man"! But it gives me an extra sense of purpose, and fuels my rebellious side! 

I'm certain God is using me in all these ways to glorify him, (which is of course the quest that supersedes all other quests, along with loving God and loving others) I can't say I am certain how yet, maybe it's like one of those films or TV series which have multiple story lines all playing along at once that all converge at the end of the story in one extraordinary climax!!  

In episode 1 of The Good Life Barbara plays a record for Tom on his birthday, a song by Sophie Tucker, I played it for my husband's 40th birthday, you'll recognise the name it's called "Life begins at 40", you can listen to it here some of the lyrics are quite poignant, she says:

"Yes, life begins at forty

And I've just begun to live all over again

You see the sweetest things in life grow sweeter as the years roll on"

When I think about this, it does seem true that I have lived half my life and am beginning a second half now. I am done with having babies (very sadly as I'd love more) and the truth is that I am now facing the beginning of "middle age" I'll be thankful if I have another 40 years on earth, maybe I'll get more than that, like my grandpa who is approaching 100, or maybe I'll have fewer years like my dear mother-in-law who died aged just 70.  I don't know what the next decades will hold for me, I hope that Sophie Tucker is right and the sweetest things will get sweeter as the years roll on, but one thing is certain, I am not giving up on my dreams.  I am not giving up on my dream of homesteading, and I have no intention on giving up on any of my other side quests either, and I want to tell you that you also shouldn't give up on your dreams, it is never too late.

It's not too late to learn a new skill, to start writing a book, to learn a new language, to learn a new sport, to achieve a physical goal like running, losing weight or starting a new sport, it's not too late to learn to paint, to start a business, or fly a plane!  There is so much that can still be done, so many dreams that can still be fulfilled, it is never too late to set a new goal no matter how big or small.  

Vera Wang didn't design her first dress till she was 40, Stan Lee created his fort hit comic at age 39, and Laura Ingalls Wilder didn't publish her first Little House book till she was 65!  There are hundreds of people who have gone before us, paving the way, starting new dreams after middle age, if they can do it, so can I, and so can you!