Sitting under an oak tree every day for a year

When I moved to Clevedon I noticed an oak behind my flat and began sitting under it. I was burned out after a decade running a nonprofit tackling plastic pollution; though we had won bans on plastic cutlery and polystyrene takeaway packaging and persuaded supermarkets to stop plastic cotton buds, I was exhausted and working only three days a week.

Looking for calm, I decided to meditate under the same tree every day for a year, starting on the winter solstice of 2023. The first months were heavy and wet, buffeted by storms and fierce winds. I took a square of sheepskin to sit on and sometimes a hot-water bottle.

Some days I doubted the point, but I kept the ritual: ten minutes quietly looking around, 20–30 minutes of meditation, then home to write notes and a poem. The winter pieces feel introspective now. Spring felt like someone pressing play. The day the daffodils came up beside the tree was a small celebration after weeks of waiting; two weeks later they were gone, a reminder of how transitory things are.

oak tree, clevedon, meditation, winter solstice, burnout, plastic pollution, nonprofit, daffodils, ritual, poem