Loneliness: Accident or Injustice? was commissioned by the Diocese of Oxford in response to research by the Church of England and Church Urban Fund which found that loneliness or social isolation was the most prevelant social concern of our time.

The Church in Action report found that loneliness is not restricted to parish size or social class. It’s more often noted in deprived parishes (81 per cent) than affluent ones – but even amongst the well-off, 55 per cent of leaders say loneliness is a significant cause of concern.

In response to this, the Department of Mission in the Oxford Diocese commissioned a publication looking at the causes of loneliness, celebrating what churches are doing to address the issue and making recommendations.

Over the next few weeks, I shall be sharing some of my findings in a series of blog posts but in order to do this, I had to ask myself an interesting question – how am I going to illustrate my post? In other words: “What does loneliness look like?”

This is the question that John Morse-Brown, of Morse-Brown Design, also had to think about that when he designed the front cover for the book.  You can download the publication: Loneliness Accident or Injustice by Jo Ind (PDF 536KB) if you want to see what he came up with.

For this post,  I have decided to use an image of nature.  That is partly a cheat, I know (holds up hands) but it’s also because I believe feeling connected to nature is the ultimate antidote to loneliness.  Knowing that we belong in the cosmos; feeling right through to our bones (and beyond) that we are the trees, the sky, the air, the sea….this is where we know we are never alone.

And so I start my series of posts with an image of two autumn trees, taken at Plas Talgarth, in the Snowdonia National Park, near Machynlleth in Mid-Wales.  I found myself thinking about marriage every time I looked at them. But marriage is only a partial solution to loneliness.  And it’s only available to some. And, unless you both die at the same time, it doesn’t last forever. Feeling at home in the glory of autumn leaves – that is a sense of belonging that endures.

It’s not wonky in real life – that’s down to the photographer’s skill and creativity.

Since February I’ve been working for Maverick Television, the company that brought us Embarassing Bodies and How to Look Good Naked, to make a ground-breaking website for the NHS in the West Midlands.

We’ve still got a little way to go to be where we want to be but the password of NHS local was lifted yesterday.

What I hate is doing PR. That’s all.

I feel the need to say this because since I’ve been a self-employed writer, at least once a week I get a call from somone I’ve featured in the Birmingham Post in the past, who wants me to write about them again. They suppose that now I’m freelance I’m only to happy to tout my work round a range of publications and, they imagine, earn a multiple fee from them.

To which I can only say that I would sooner pickle my head. In fact I DID say exactly that to one hopeful – he still didn’t understand I didn’t want the job.

For those that don’t understand the difference let me explain. It’s about the difference between telling and selling. I love the telling. I’m a writer. I like to communicate, to connect, to build up relationships. I loathe the selling – picking up a phone and saying: ‘I’ve got a great story here. Do you want to publish it?’

That’s why I’m not in PR. It’s why I’m not in double-glazing.

Granted, there is middleground between telling and selling, a place where sales-patter and headline-writing sit. I’m comfortable on one side of that middleground, I’m not on the other.

Next time I’m approached by someone who wants me to both tell and sell their story, I shall put analogies about pickling heads to one side. I shall simply say: ‘The service you require is public relations. £1,500 would be the going commerical rate.’ Let’s see if that works.

May it be my worship

May it be the growing of my heart and the connecting of my soul

May it be my reaching out and drawing in

May it lead me home

This post was written while on retreat at the zero carbon house, Balsall Heath, Birmingham looking at these golden hands by Jake Lever.

My last day at the Birmingham Post was Tuesday 22 December 2009. I slid out on a farewell blog like Santa on his sleigh. Here is my heart-felt post, with added pictures, which was published in the Birmingham Post that day.

Bye bye Birmingham Post

Bye bye Birmingham Post. I have been with you for more than 21 years. In those years you have been through eight editors, gone from being a broadsheet, to a tabloid, to a broadsheet and back to a tabloid again, only we don’t call you that. You were black and white then, you’re colour now. You were a six day a week publication when I joined. Now you are a multi-media operation of which the newspaper is only a part.

In those 21 years, I have changed too. My mother has died, I’ve been diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis, I’ve lived in community, I’ve lived on my own and I’ve lived with my family. I’ve married, I’ve had a son, I’ve had two books published and I’ve learnt to sing jazz. I’ve gone from being an angry idealist determined to change the world to someone who is content to change her little bit of it and is happier than I knew was possible – same hairstyle though.

Farewell everyone I have ever interviewed

Farewell everyone I have ever interviewed. I became a journalist because of you. It’s been an honour to hear your stories and to tell them as faithfully as I could, whatever the pressure of my deadlines or the barking of the newsdesk. There are some of you who have touched me so deeply, I will never forget you. Thank you for your trust and for making my work such a privilege.

I have just volunteered to leave a newspaper I love and a job about which I am passionate.

Last week Trinity Mirror, the company that owns the Birmingham Post, announced 41 journalists in the Midlands are to lose their jobs by the end of the year. I am offering to leave as part of the cull.

Why?