Gum on My Shoe

Dear friend. I thought to write to you after the chat we had the other day. Remember? The one where you asked me, “Am I lazy?” I’ll start by saying you’re not alone in asking that question. Many people tell me they feel lazy because they’re not doing as much as they think they should. Mostly that’s because they’re living with depression, or anxiety, or fatigue, or pain, or chronic lack of sleep, or brain fog, or some other condition that makes it tough to navigate the everyday things of life. The things that would otherwise be within their compass. I think maybe you’d agree. I think maybe you’d recognise yourself in that description. I’ve no comparable experience, so it’s arguable how much I truly understand. I see it, nevertheless. I see what it takes for you to marshal the energy to do things that others — that I — might call easy or obvious. When you can’t, when there’s no spoons left, when making that meal or taking that shower or sending that e-mail or doing that chore ...

“Po-ta-toes,” said Sam. “The Gaffer’s delight, and rare good ballast for an empty belly. But you won’t find any, so you needn’t look.” — J.R.R. Tolkien, “The Two Towers” ( The Lord of the Rings ) Thursday April 17, 2025 was a big day for me. I took myself on an adventure. It wasn’t a big adventure. Just a day out at the coast. But it was the first time I’d taken myself out for the day in almost a year. Last time it was a trip into the city to see an exhibition of paintings by the renowned English landscape painter J. M. W. Turner. There was no aim or goal this time beyond a sense of curiosity. How would it feel to be out of my usual environment after so long? I’d chosen a day when the weather promised to be dry and bright, but beyond that I had only the loosest of plans. I’d catch the Metro train to Tynemouth, walk to the sea front, then head north. Maybe I’d walk on the beach. Maybe I’d paddle. There were any number of cafes, coffee shops, and pubs I might stop at for some...

“I understand,” I said, “call me another thrower.” — Loren Eiseley I’ve always loved letter writing . My friend Maya and I have written to each other almost every week for years. I look forward to reading her letters, but no less welcome are the envelopes she decorates. They’re works of art in their own right. One recent envelope (pictured) reminded me of a shoreline. As I wrote to her: Thank you for your letter and the truly lovely envelope with all its rich colour and texture. I’m seeing it as a shoreline with waves, white water and foam — and tiny starfish! I thought for a moment, then continued. It reminds me of a story called “The Tale of the Starfish.” Do you know it? It’s about a little girl saving starfish by returning them to the sea. More generally, it’s about making a difference no matter how small. I’m a big believer in that. The story I recalled is a reworking of “The Star Thrower” by Loren C. Eiseley, first published in 1969. Various versions exist, of whi...

I rarely share my creative writing here on Gum on My Shoe. Our blog is primarily focused on mental health and supportive friendships. On occasion, however, Fran and I give ourselves permission to explore other topics. This is one of those occasions. Writing has always been an important part of my life. I’ve kept a daily diary for over fifty years . During that time I’ve written poetry, articles, short stories, a novella, two books, and a great many blog posts. I’ve not written creative fiction for a while, but in We Are All Made of Stories I shared something of my past experiences in that genre. I recently came across a short story of mine while looking for something else. “The Hundred Stories” was originally published in September 2001 in Reunion , the quarterly journal of Middle-earth Reunion (MeR). Founded in 1996 as a local group of the Tolkien Society, MeR parted company with the Tolkien Society in 2001. The final issue of Reunion was published in December 2005. “The Hu...

Check out our top posts for the past month. Posts are listed by the number of page views they attracted during the month, most popular first. Shhhhhhh! A Friend’s Guide to Secrets The Box on the Shelf: A Strategy for Handling Difficult Issues and Situations It’s Not Enough / Never Enough It’s Time to Talk. But What If You Don’t Want To? Thank You Anyway: The Gift of Ingratitude One Must Imagine Sisyphus Happy: Encounters With the Absurd Man Twelve Songs That Remind Me What Caring Is All About I’m on My Way: Thoughts Inspired by Ed Sheeran’s “Castle on the Hill” The Hidden Cost of Unreliability Supportive Disengagement: How to Be There for Your Friend When They Need Space Our most visited pages were: Contact Us Our books Resources About Us Testimonials News and Appearances   Photo by Pedro Lastra at Unsplash.  

As soon as you stop thinking about them, they’ll send you a text message or call you. Because they know you stopped thinking about them. It’s like a radar. — Lauren Conrad This blog post was inspired by a recent conversation with Fran. We were discussing our plans for the day and I mentioned I wanted to catch up with a few friends I’d not been in touch with for a while. In this context, “a while” means anything from a day or so to several weeks. I found myself mentally scanning my circle of friends as an air traffic controller might scan their radar screen. The analogy might seem an odd one, but I have a keen interest in aviation. The air traffic controller’s screen shows where each aircraft is in relation to the airport, terrain, and other aircraft. As well as distance and bearing, it displays the aircraft’s altitude, speed, call sign, and squawk code. More on squawk codes later. Everything is updated in real time with each sweep of the radar. The controller is able to talk t...