At odd moments, I find myself in Stephanie Rhode’s shoes. Usually, it’s when I go for a walk round the village or while staring out across the field behind my house. I never understood, before I took up writing, how much it takes over your mind. When Stephanie is feeling depressed, so am I, when she’s feeling excited, so am I, and when she’s feeling romantic…well say no more! Haha.  I’ve always been good at daydreaming, yet it dawned on me this morning how therapeutic writing has become.  

During the last few years, I have, like a great many people, been struggling with my mental health. I was a carer for my mum as Parkinson’s disease started to take over her body, her death coincided with huge stress at work and add the menopause then maybe you get the idea. During Covid Lockdown, I stumbled upon a young lady who taught well-being classes over the internet. I learned to try to live in the moment, to slow down and really pay attention to my surroundings and how it made me feel. To train my mind to not dwell on the past or worry what may happen. Of course, it’s easier said than done but I did practise this for a while.

This morning, I realised that writing my stories had led me to revisit this mindful practice. I listen to the sound of the wheat rustling in the breeze, to the birds tweeting and playing in the branches, I concentrate and think of phrases to describe what my senses are telling me.

So that’s two gifts that writing has bestowed upon me…mindfulness and escapism. I highly recommend it.