Helen`s Memorial Booklet 10.11.2015

Memorial Booklet
Helen Pinder
22 June 1949 - 1 November 2014
Page 1
“Who Am I?” by Helen
Before I moved to Trelay I was living alone, not by
choice, in a small terraced house just off a busy
suburban shopping street in Cambridge. I worked
three days a week doing finance and admin for a
charity which supports women. I turned 60 in June
2009, which is very strange as I don’t feel at all like a
pensioner!
I was born in Nottingham and lived there until I was
18, and on and off during the next 6 or 7 years,
though not with my family. I have three brothers, one
older and two younger, but there is only 5 years
between the oldest and the youngest. My father died
in January 2000 and my mother died, aged 89, in
December 2010. Both suffered from dementia and
spent their last years in a care home. My brothers all
live in Nottingham and have ‘normal’ jobs and
families. I get on very well with them, though only see
them once a year or so.
Good memories of my childhood seem to involve the
outdoors and freedom - going to the park with my
brothers, holidays on the beach and in the sea,
camping with the Girl Guides, climbing the tree in my
friend’s garden and just sitting up there for hours,
talking or reading. But there was also a feeling of not
quite understanding the rules of life, nothing being
explained, getting into trouble but not knowing why.
I passed my 11+ with flying colours and won a
scholarship to the local private school, but never
fitted in there. I muddled along enough to get
reasonable exam results, but lack of motivation and
unhelpful career advice led me to start a teachertraining course. Yes, I wanted to work with children,
but not as a teacher, so I left after two years and
began a pretty nomadic lifestyle. It was 1969, and
whilst I was too ‘sensible’ to be a hippy, I was still able
to take advantage of the freedom of the time.
During the next 8 years, I learned about life and
independence. Alongside learning child-care in Sutton
Coldfield, PCB assembly in Scotland and bookkeeping
in Nottingham, I got married and separated, and
discovered feminism, anarchism, left-wing political
action. Now I began to feel I knew where I belonged.
The next 7 years included working in a collective,
producing a radical pacifist magazine “Peace News” in
Nottingham, a couple of months at a protest camp on
the proposed site of Torness Nuclear Power station,
living in a commune outside Sheffield where I leant
to weave, milk goats and run a printing press, and
helping set up and manage a short-life housing coop
in Southern London.
In 1982 I moved to Cambridge, to work in a
community printing cooperative and lived in (and
was involved in running) a housing coop. I was on
my way back north, but got stuck. In February 1988
my son was born. When he was about to start to
school we moved to a house just up the road from
his father, Tim. We demonstrated the art of being a
non-cohabiting couple, much to the envy of some of
our friends.
Page 2
Over the next few years, I took an ‘A’ level in
sociology and a BA in Women’s studies and
sociology. The subjects fascinated me and at last I
was enjoying studying. I would have loved to take
it further but, possibly for the first time in my
life, lack of money prevented me. I was also
working a few hours a week as bookeeper for a
small nursery school. After my degree I tried
unsuccessfully to find work in the social sector. In
July 2000 I started work at Hill Road sixth form
college as a clerical assistant to the estates and
resources department.
I had only been there a few weeks when I was
diagnosed with breast cancer but they were very
supportive and I managed my treatment well, so I
didn’t have to take too much time off. My
treatment ended the following April but I
continued to have medication and regular checkups until was signed off in May 2009. That was an
unsettling experience. I realised I had seen the
tablets and the check-ups as a kind of talisman,
keeping me safe from a recurrence of the cancer
so now I am getting used to being on my own and
trying to take responsibility for my own health. In
June 2010, the cancer returned, this time as
secondaries, and I am undergoing further
treatment. This does not yet have any significant
impact on my life.
My second major trauma was at the end of 2004,
when my son Hugh almost 17 years old and being
excited by the possibilities for his future, died
unexpectedly of pneumonia, misdiagnosed as flu
or as the doctor called it ‘there’s a lot of it
about’. There’s not really a lot more that I can
say except that I feel strongly that I want to live
the rest of my life in the best way I can to honour
his life and his memory. He touched so many
people in loving, positive, life-affirming ways that
I am proud to have helped him to become who he
was.Tim and I stopped being a couple in October
2006, but are still good friends. I didn’t realise
until I was responsible for my own life again just
how much I had changed in order to fit in with
him and with family life. I feel as if I took a deep
breath then and realised I am a free agent and
can do what I want. I realised that I need to
return to the kind of life I had before the
diversion which was Hugh and Tim (from which I
gained a great deal but still . . .). I want to live
and work collectively with others to make a life
which is full and satisfying on many levels from the
personal to the local to the broadly political/
spiritual aspects.
Most of my life I have lived simply and cheaply,
partly because I grew up with the post war makedo-and-mend and have never had materialistic
goals and later because of my political inclinations.
I have always cared more about people and ideas/
ideals than money and objects. I have often made
my own clothes or bought from charity shops and
seldom buy anything new if I can get second-hand.
I baked my own bread and grew a considerable
proportion of my own vegetables, sharing an
allotment with two friends from 2008. I was a
member of the local freecycle group and also the
Cambridge LETS group.
Page 3
What I do has always been more important than how much I earn. I don’t think I have worked for a
purely commercial organisation since 1973. I am looking forward to being able to develop these
principles into helping to supply my own electricity and water!
I studied counselling for three years, finishing with an advanced certificate just before I moved to
Trelay and have discovered how to make more use of my good listener skills. I have also learnt a lot
about myself, that I can be confident, in control of my feelings, assertive when necessary. I think
that also comes with age. It has taken me a long time and I still have times of being unconfident,
feeling unlovable. I hope that I am more self-aware and able to recognise and ask for what I need.
I accept that everyone has a right to their own opinions on politics and religion as long as they are
open to explaining and discussing them. I find it difficult to deal with people who think that their
views are the right way for everyone (I had enough of that when I was growing up).
I like cooking, especially with other people. I am quite imaginative I think. I hate housework though
will do enough to be reasonably clean and tidy. I’d rather do a big binge than a little every day.
I love language. I do cryptic crosswords and I am quite good at writing essays and documents though
it takes me a while to get started. I like music of all sorts (except too loud) and would like to start
playing it again. I used to play guitar and started to learn folk fiddle but my teacher was too busy.
I like having people round to share work, ideas, fun, hard times but also need space to be by myself
sometimes. I increasingly need to be in open space near trees and the sea. It soothes my soul and
gives me energy. I had holidays in west Cornwall every year from 1989 to 2004, so Trelay feels like
home.
20th December 2010
Page 4
Page 5
Helen with her
brothers, Martin
and Robin, at Trelay
in September 2014.
Their elder brother
Peter died three
years before Helen.
Page 6
Helen’s Son, Hugh
We are Xavier’s parents.
We would like to say that we have been immensely uplifted and helped by (most) of the messages
posted here (and just to reassure people, not upset by the others - the world is full of jerks).
We knew that Hugh (Xavier) was involved in halo modelling and had seen some of his mods and the
low-gravity video, but we had no idea that he was such a well-liked and respected member of the
community. I cannot say how lovely it is to discover new things about our son and to see how he
touched so many people.
In r/l Xavier was 16.8 yrs old and studying maths, physics, electronics and media studies at Hills
Road Sixth-form College, Cambridge UK (in between modding). He wanted to study engineering,
and hoped to go to Cambridge University. His grades were good enough and he would probably have
made it. We had just come back from Christmas at his grandmother’s a day early because he was
rather ill with what was diagnosed as flu. We found him dead in his bed the next morning. He died
peacefully.
As there have been some medical issues discussed here I should let you know that it was viral
pneumonia, not flu and that the medics are hard at work to try to discover the exact details.
Maybe that can prevent this happening again to another family.
If possible, we will be taking printouts of some of the messages here to his funeral service and will
be telling people about the son called Xavier that I never knew I had, explaining what modding is
and showing them his low-gravity video. So Xavier will be commemorated as well as Hugh which we
think is right and proper.
If anyone from this community lives near enough to Cambridge and wants to attend his funeral,
which is on Saturday 8th January at 1pm, can they get in touch by email. If anyone wants to send
us private memories of Xavier, we would love to receive them.
There have been some discussions of a memorial. We think that you should do what seems best to
you. Whatever you do, can you let us know (and explain to us how to get access!). If you want a
picture of Xavier for such a memorial we will be proud to provide one.
Tim Bergel and Helen Pinder, January 2005
HE DIED? !
Well, rest in
peace Xavier.
The cell shaded
mods was one
of the best
mods on this
site. It’s sad to
see a good
modder go like
that.
Page 7
Some of Helen’s Poems
Helen wrote dozens of poems. Here are a few:
SELF VERSUS OTHERS
UNSPECIFIED 1971
I went away, searching for myself and happiness.
It was all that mattered.
I found loneliness and pain and despair.
I was no-where.
I was insignificant and powerless.
My self was lost in crowds of other selves.
I could not find myself.
Stop.
I don’t matter any more.
Other selves are searching too,
finding loneliness and pain and despair.
Talk to them.
Sharing despair, we found we are nothing special.
Others matter more than self.
And I came back and found that I was part of
others
All selves are one, and share the loneliness and
pain and despair.
Tentatively, afraid, I reached out a hand from my
soul
And those who took it became part of myself.
Surprising,
that anyone should want to take that hand.
Perhaps I have something to share.
And so I will stay. I will try and share, and give.
And if any soul needs a part of myself
they are welcome to take it
I hope they can make better use of it than I do.
HIBERNATION
Nov 1979
These November days
hold winter in their clouds,
the stars are sharp
ice crystals.
I hug the fire
and you
to keep warm.
My brain is full of
things I want to do
my will
is going into hibernation.
Page 8
WORDS ARE SO MUCH
SAFER Apr 1979
We sat in a circle
facing each other, tense
challenging and defiant
defending and attacking
closed in our threatening territory.
And then the trust broke through
and as we relaxed
the circle drew closer until
we were all of us open
listening caring receptive
speaking from our hearts
speaking to our souls
sharing our very selves
and my being filled with love for them
I wanted to touch them all.
I regret
we were not close enough for that.
Words are so much safer.
WHITE PRINCE Oct 1980
Hollow,
I am hollow,
a shell of futility
trying to impress the world
with my capability
and my self-reliance.
But secretly I am waiting
for a fairytale prince,
white horse borne
tall and proud and strong,
to ask me to submit,
to give me a reason,
to fill up my hollow centre
with warmth and passion,
someone to reflect
my feelings,
to give them
a purpose.
But all the princes
have soft centres
and weaknesses like mine.
There are no real fairytales.
Will I never learn?
MY CHILD Sept 1981
My child,
my little tyrant,
shall you ever have
enough?
Three days you’ve had
of games and love
and laughter
but still you torment me
by wanting more,
still you
stamp your feet
and cry
I won’t, I want,
and will not let me be.
Don’t you see
you are ruining my life?
Nobody has the patience
to indulge you
continually
least of all me.
But there is no reason
in you.
all is self and
wanting
and wanting.
You push me to the edge
of sanity
and I want to
kill you
so that I can live.
YELLOW BALLOON
Jan 1981
Full moon
yellow balloon
smiling as you stir my
soul with your light.
You are not as
innocuous
as you look.
You tear my being
with your
vacuous grin.
You know very well
as you hang there,
pretending innocence
that I am
falling
apart because of you.
You steal my rationality
plunder my plans
and wreck my reason.
But I know too.
I have discovered
your secret game
and you cannot
win any more.
You can
twist me but
I will not break.
You can
torture me but
I will not give in.
Full moon
yellow balloon
I know you.
HIDING PLACE June 1981
You are a hiding place
When I need
to be folded in gentleness
to be caressed
and made much of,
when I need
to feel special,
to feel loved.
You are an excuse
to escape from everyday.
With you I can
lie in bed until afternoon,
stroll in the market,
sit in the park.
I need you for this.
But now I am afraid
that you want more.
There is no space for your
reality in my everyday
and I would ask
too much.
I have no time for your passivity - it’s hard enough
to cope with my own.
You can’t have any
of my strength - I need it all,
and more.
I would try to make you
be strong for me,
I would try to make you
assertive, decisive,
instead of using my energy
to develop those things in myself.
Page 9
If you were to be part of
my everyday
I would do to you
as I did to all the
others - I would try to make you
into somebody else,
somebody I think I need,
I couldn’t take you
as you are
and in the end
you would run away,
and once again
I would have hurt us
both.
I can’t afford such intimacy
in my everyday,
I don’t know how to
deal with it.
Until I can learn,
I want you to
stay where you are,
my occasional hiding place.
UNREASON
September 1981
You men
I hate you all
I don’t want your
reasonable suggestions
You patronise me
With your logic
I am not
reasonable
I am not
rational
I am not
logical
and I don’t know
what I want.
Helen’s Sense of Humour!
Unlikely second lines
Limericks
The grave’s a fine and private place
But ashes take up far less space
A popular girl is Miss Cholmondeley
She’s youthful, attractive and colmondeley
And never objects
To suggestions of sex
But simple cooperates dolmondeley
Bliss was it in that dawn to be alive
Struggling to catch the 7.45
That is my last Duchess painted on the wall,
Ignore those artist’s boobs! She had none at all
Widow (conscious that time’s on the wing)
Fortyish but still game for a fling
Seeks fun-loving male
Mature, but not stale
With a view to the usual thing
Break off, break off this last lamenting kiss,
I’m absolutely dying for a piss
Self-Evident Proverbs
Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?
You fit the bill - cold, dimmish, wet and grey
Stands the church clock at ten to three?
Does no-one wind the thing but me?
And did those feet in ancient time
Ache as much as yours and mine?
Typo
The penis mightier than the sword
If there’s no lead in your pencil you don’t need
a rubber
Even nuns are screwed in their coffins
Many hands make a tall horse
A knowledge of Sanscrit is of little use to a
man trapped in a sewer
A new dishwasher cannot mend a broken heart
but it will do the washing up
Seek not cherry blossom on the plum tree
Page 10
Helen’s Life at Trelay
Helen first visited Trelay 20 - 22 March 2009 and moved in in 2010.
She had been part of a group looking at cohousing in Cambridge, but was drawn to Cornwall having
spent many happy family holidays in this part of the world. After her first ‘Interest Weekend’ she
soon made up her mind to move to Trelay, but decided to complete her counselling course in
Cambridge first. Then she sold her house and moved.
As an indication of what Helen herself thought about her new life at Trelay, we have included here
pictures and articles from the Trelay quarterly newsletter known as Tree Layers.
She wrote articles, submitted some of her poems from the past, and became the editor for several
issues.
From
Tree
Layers
11
Helen digging the
flesh out of the
biggest pumpkin we
grew at Trelay,
October 2009
When we created a selfcontained flat on the top
floor of the main
farmhouse, we had the
stairs removed. The lounge
/dining room seems twice
as big! The plastering was
done on Christmas Eve
2009, leaving an unsightly
set of cables leading to the
consumer unit. Helen,
Jackie and Paul made a
wooden box to cover the
unit, and Tim decorated the
end of the room beautifully.
Right: before
Below: after
Page 11
January 2010.
Left: Helen bird-watching near the Beak, just
south of Crackington Haven
Below: Helen helping to transport Auntie over to
the farmhouse through the snow
A Moving Experience
I am excited about moving to Trelay, with a deep
calm sense of the rightness of it. At the same time
I am sad, almost disbelieving that I am leaving
Cambridge after 28 years, 18 of them in the same
house. I have at times found it impossible to reconcile
these two, and impossible to imagine being able to go
through all my physical possessions, deciding what to
take, what to give away and what to throw away. I still
have not faced up to the fact that I will be leaving so
many good friends who have supported me at difficult
times and shared happy, silly times too. They assure me I
cannot escape, that they will visit me regularly to check
up on me and find out about this place called Trelay that I
am so enthusiastic about.
I had just begun to make lists and sort out a few things
when Jackie came to help me out, in a big white van
instead of on a white horse, though it does feel as
though I am being rescued from a swamp of impossibility. I have remembered that two people
together can do much more work than one person working for twice the time, and it’s much
more enjoyable. We emptied out the garden sheds in the sunshine, choked in the dust in the
loft, filled the house with boxes and bags of history as well as things I have collected in
preparation for my new life. We have even found time for a walk in the Country Park and so
heard the first chiffchaff of the year, a heart-lifting confirmation of Spring.
We took a van-load of assorted bits and pieces to the ‘recycling centre’ – the modern version
of the municipal tip, where there are huge skips with steps up to them, and labels according
to contents. During the process of unloading, sorting and dumping the contents of the van I
took a small bag containing garden chemicals to the Man and asked him what I should do with
them. He replied, ‘Just give them to me, thanks sweetheart’.
Sweetheart? He’s calling me sweetheart?
Here we are, two good solid working women
with a van, hauling and lifting and carrying,
and he’s calling me sweetheart? A few years
ago I would have been angry, but now it was
just hilariously funny. And also quite touching,
because strangely I felt accepted, validated
for what I am.
Tomorrow we will load the van and Jackie will
return to Trelay without me, which I can’t
think about. I so much want to come back
with her, but I have to finish my college
course, finish the sorting of stuff and sell the
house before I can be there. Soon, it will be
soon.
by Helen, 24th March 2010
Page 12
A Walk in a New Landscape
May 2010, a month since I moved to Trelay, time to explore the neighbourhood. This is a new
part of the country to me, so when Jackie and I went to Rough Tor on a sunny windy day I was
not sure what to expect:
Vast spaces of dry grassland with low plants, so many shades of gold/brown/ green/
yellow; Smooth grey rocks strewn in clusters or heaped in impossible piles on the top of
steep slopes;
Sharply defined rectangles of dark green conifer plantations, two blue artificial lakes in
opposite directions, the result of human industry; ·
Meadow pipit, stonechat, wheatear, cuckoo; ·
Distance.
Walking up the track of a stony dry stream to the Tor, turning back we could see the sea in the
hazy distance. As we clambered and sat amongst the huge wind-smoothed rocks we talked about
finding a place where we could see the sea in both directions, and then realised that we were
standing at it!
It took a while to decide to go
onwards and complete a circular
walk, rather than go back the way
we came - it looked so far and I
was out of practice at long walks.
But the prospect of climbing Brown
Willie was too good to miss. We put
stones on the cairn at the windy
summit and quickly came down to
a more sheltered level.
We had been hearing cuckoos all
the time, and I had assumed they
were in the plantations as I have
only ever seen them amongst
trees. Walking down a long, wide
open grassy slope, Jackie suddenly
said, ‘I can see a cuckoo sitting on
a fence post.’ ‘There can’t be’, I
said, ‘cuckoos live in trees’.
Increasingly frustrated discussion
continued for some time, and when
I finally found in my binoculars the fence post Jackie was describing to me, there was the
unmistakeable shape of a cuckoo! Sorry, Jackie!
We looked at many different
plants and grasses, climbed a
barbed wire fence to cross a
stony stream, listened to
birdsong – and I remembered
how far I am capable of
walking, but that distance
travelled is the least
important aspect of a walk.
If anyone has a free day/
afternoon sometime – I want
to do more of this!
by Helen
Page 13
Our Rights
Finally getting round to sorting out old papers, I found the following, copied probably in my
early women’s movement days (35 years ago!):
OUR BASIC RIGHTS AS HUMAN BEINGS
1. I have the right to state my own needs and set my own priorities
2. I have the right to be treated with respect
3. I have the right to express my feelings
4. I have the right to express my opinions
5. I have the right to say ‘yes’ or ‘no’ without feeling guilty
6. I have the right to make mistakes
7. I have the right to change my mind
8. I have the right to say ‘I don’t understand’
9. I have the right to ask for what I want
10. I have the right to be listened to and taken seriously
11. I have the right to ask for information
12. I have the right to be independent
13.I have the right to decline responsibility for other people’s problems
When I re-read it I remembered how powerful an impact it had on me when I first read it, and
how it had helped me grow in independence. by Helen
Helen is now part of the Trelay Tribe!
Page 14
Summer 2010
Above left: Helen on a cliff walk at Highcliff
above the Strangles, with Kathy and Jackie
Above: Helen helping take the plants down to
the new reedbed with Estelle, Tony and Roger
Left: Helen grew a big squash!
Crackington
Haven - a
watercolour by
Helen
Pinder
Page 15
Winter 2010
Helen took on the job of
editing the Trelay
newsletter - an
opportunity to make a
front-page collage of
her own photos.
Tree Layers
The newsletter of the Trelay Farm Eco Village
Number 14 - December 2010
Trelay Farm, St Gennys, Bude, Cornwall, EX23 0NJ
01840 230 423
www.trelay.org
[email protected]
Page 16
Editorial
This is my first attempt at producing Tree Layers, and also the first time I have used the
PageMaker software, which is VERY complicated! I would have finished by the end of December if
I had not been overcome with a horrible cold and cough, which has filled my head with cement
and my ears with cotton wool.
I did some research into sunrise and sunset times around the solstice, as it always seems to take
ages before the mornings get lighter. This is because sunrise actually goes on getting later by a
couple of minutes until 31st December, and it is not until 9th January that it gets back to the time
it was on 21st December. The lengthening day is all down to sunset getting later faster. by Helen
Some Permaculture Principles:
Maximise edge
Make use of microclimates
Encourage diversity
Increase succession
“Everything gardens”
A Big Smile Inside
When I moved to Trelay, nearly a year ago now, I was full of ideas and plans; intending to be
fully involved in communal living, planning and decision-making; starting a business making
clothes from recycled fabrics and cards from my own photographs; growing vegetables. I had a
clear idea of how it would be. But it is not.
Personal circumstances and Trelay itself have intervened, changing the way I perceive my
contribution to the community and my place within it. I have been struggling for a few months
now with the reality of life here, seeing exciting changes developing for Trelay but also
becoming aware of my own limitations both practically and personally.
Over the winter I went into hibernation, closing myself off and forgetting what it was that
drew me here. I knew from my first visit that this was where I should be, but I lost touch with
that certainty. Last month I unexpectedly spent three days in hospital, with no natural light,
but no darkness either, no sight of greenery, inedible food. When I came home I walked around
for days with a big smile inside, as I had on my early visits to Trelay, understanding that what I
need is the natural world, the light, the trees, the sea, the sky, home-produced good food.
Waking up to darkness and then birdsong. I don’t even mind the rooster crowing outside my
window at 7 am because this is home.
And I realise that the people here are important to me, that I care for them and they care for
me without my having to prove anything or be any particular way. I can spend time with them
in any ways, and so I am coming to terms wit~doing things because I feel I have to but
contributing when and how I can and knowing that is accepted. I suppose I am allowing myself
to be accepted in the same way as I am trying to accept others, without judgement, and so
accepting myself, and realising that Trelay has plans for us all which we cannot realise until we
let go of our expectations and just simply live here with love and hope, and see what evolves.
by Helen, from Tree Layers 15
Page 17
RIVER
Secret river
drawn by your singing
I come to drink of
your peace
to sit with your spirit
and be whole.
Your wild white churning fall
swirls to rest
In the curve
of the hill’s belly
and I sit near
caressed by leaves’ shadow
folded in the arms of trees
and washed
with your healing.
I recently found a folder of
poems I wrote between thirty
and forty years ago. Some of
them show how much I have
changed emotionally since
then, others are remarkably
similar to the way I feel now,
and I would like to share one
of the latter.
Helen Pinder, July 1981
Reflections on Community Living
Everyone living at, or planning to live at, Trelay has recently been working on writing terms and
conditions for our lease document which will be signed later this year. As part of that document,
or as an accompaniment to it, there could be a list of ‘expectations’ of the way Trelay works as a
community and the behaviour of its members, which we would all agree to. There has been much
discussion of what we want this document to contain, how we think we should explain ourselves,
and almost as many opinions as there are people involved. I wrote this to try and express how I
feel we should approach the task. For most of my adult life I have been involved in various kinds
of co-operatives and collectives, mostly to do with housing and work, and also in the
development of same. The most important thing I learned from this, as it relates to Trelay’s
development, is that it is at least as important for those involved to change the way they
organise and take responsibility for their personal relationships and their day-to-day life as it is
to change working practices, legal structures and relationship to the environment. The latter can
be, need to be, written down in order to provide a basis for relating to the ‘normal’ world in a
serious manner, but personal and behavioural structures are open to negotiation dependent on
who is involved, and can, should, change with circumstances. We now have a chance to develop
a model of a pattern for relationship and behavioural structure as well as a legal and practical
ones, to encourage individual responsibility and communication. Most people seem to expect
rules so that they know how to behave without thinking about it too much. I agree that people
wanting to find out about Trelay need their questions answered, but they do not all have the
same questions so I think that to give them a huge list of ‘rules’ or ‘expectations’ would be
counter-productive and make us seem too prescriptive. And we do not all have the same
answers! If we are aiming to develop communication and relationships, as I hope we are, then we
should realise that everyone has their own ideas of how they want to live their lives here and
that these ideas will change not only over time but also depending on who is living here. As the
membership changes, so will the needs and the relationships, so there should be flexibility and
the opportunity for individual creativity in producing structures which are developed by the
people using them at the time.
What I think we could have now is guidelines for relationships and behaviour based on our
covenant, if that is what everyone wants. We do not all necessarily want the same level of
communality and it is important that is taken into account. There could be structures allowing
for, say, weekly communal meals to take place, but no ‘expectation’ that everyone should
attend. And why should a family with three children be expected to share washing machines with
15 other people, with all the accompanying hassle of waiting for a free machine? It could be
difficult for some of us to move away from a structured way of life, but the benefits for Trelay as
a whole and for the example we are hoping to set of a different way to live could be enormous.
Every individual’s contribution, whatever form it takes, is valued for its uniqueness, every person
is uniquely valuable, and communication is the vital core. Now I have to confess that it was very
hard to write this without using ‘we must’ and ’we have to’ and ‘we should’. Even using the word
‘should’ feels rather prescriptive, but this is about an approach rather than particulars and I
can’t really think of another way to express it. Also I am pretty idealistic about this but am happy
to be brought down to earth and look forward to sharing thoughts and ideas. by Helen
Page 18
From Tree Layers 16
The Ten Sticks of Self Care
A friend told me about a workshop she had attended which included a presentation of the Ten
Sticks of Self Care, which are:
1.
I am learning that I am the most unique and special manifestation of creation
2.
I am learning to appreciate all that I am and have
3.
I am learning to approach life with optimism and trust
4.
I am learning to set new and interesting goals for myself
5.
I am learning to live each day as if it is my last
6.
I am learning to adapt to the changes in my life
7.
I am learning to deepen the love of myself
8.
I am learning that life is perfect and to avoid being a perfectionist
9.
I am learning to laugh with life
10.
I am learning to understand the other
I do not necessarily agree with all of these, but the one which gave me most cause for thought
was: ‘I am learning to live each day as if it is my last’. Many people seem to take these words to
mean ‘I must do as much as possible every day’ or ‘I must not leave anything unfinished at the
end of the day’, and I have never been able to accept that view of life, having been a generally
idle person for most of my life. So I thought about what ‘living each day as if it is my last’ meant
to me, and I thought about how my life is now, and how I would like my last day to be. I think
the most important thing would be to appreciate what is going on around me, to be conscious of
my self in relation to the place I am in and the people I am with, to do things which are positive
and do no harm. I think that this is the opposite of the ‘doing and finishing’ approach, which
does not give space to feeling and experiencing and creativity.
PS The Ten Sticks were placed on the ground, one for each point, by the presenter and at the
end they had formed the shape of a dragonfly. I don’t know what significance she attached to it,
but suspect it is to do with all life, whatever form it takes and however long it lasts, having
beauty.
By Helen
Helen’s Vision for Trelay
Openness, honesty, acceptance of difference.
From each according to their abilties, to each according to their needs.
Equality, trust, communication.
Acceptance / trust that everyone will be committed to suporting Trelay in
the best way they can.
No expectation that everyone will do everything.
A stable ‘core’ community with space for long / short term temporary
members - flexiblity.
Development of self-sustaining businesses and enterprises to earn enough
money - hope that a time will come when no-one needs to go ‘out’ to work
unless they want to, and no need to rely on investment from members.
Page 19
Art at the
Eden Project
developed during those years.
I recently visited the
Eden Project for the
second time, the
first being just after
it opened – ten years
ago? I was curious to
see how it had
changed and
There are many more plants and trees now, and
those that were there at the start are now more tall
and dense, so there is a feeling of being in a bowl full
of plants. I took a lot of photos of the plants, but
was actually more interested in the art works that
have been created out of natural materials and also
out of junk. Some are bold and unmissable, like the
giant figure made of old electronic equipment, but
there are many small, subtle pieces that are easy to
miss.
A retaining wall along a path had niches in it which
contained sculptures relating to the plants in the bed behind and
above it. I loved the simple cubes of weathered wood alongside
another path acting as seats, and the three-dimensional fence made
out of stretched rope – functional and beautiful at the same time.
And I wonder if Trelay could have some branch-pigs around the place
as well as the living ones?
By Helen
Page 20
Tree Layers
The newsletter of the Trelay Cohousing Community
Number 17 - December 2011
WISHING YOU ALL A HAPPY NEW YEAR
Trelay Farm, St Gennys, Bude, Cornwall, EX23 0NJ
01840 230 423
www.trelay.org
[email protected]
Page 21
EDITORIAL
Christmas seems to have come upon us quite suddenly this year. We have had autumnal weather for
longer than should be usual; wet and windy interspersed with sometimes several days of sunshine,
and no real cold yet. We have not had proper autumn colours either - as soon as the leaves started
to turn they were blown off in gales and suddenly we have bare branches.
The stove in the lounge has been out of action until very recently, so the room has not been much
used except for meals which were often eaten quite quickly, and sometimes with coats on. Now the
stove is fixed (thanks, Tim!) we can sit round the table after dinner and talk, and our new younger
residents can play there in comfort - and safety, as we have recently bought a large and sturdy
fireguard.
I have felt since I first visited Trelay that this was where I belonged, not because of the community
so much as the place itself, the spirit of the land, you could say. I have recently discovered that
many people feel the same, even those who decide that the community is not for them. This strong
sense of place can only be a positive contribution to the building of the vision for Trelay.
Helen
By Oriah © Mountain Dreaming, from the “Invitation” submitted by both Helen & Karen
It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living.
I want to know what you ache for and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart’s longing.
It doesn’t interest me to know where you live or how much money
you have. I want to know if you can get up after the night of grief
and despair weary and bruised to the bone and do what needs to be
done to feed the children.
It doesn’t interest me who you know or how you came to be here.
I want to know if you will stand in the centre of the fire with me and
not shrink back.
It doesn’t interest me where or what or with whom you have
studied. I want to know what sustains you from the inside when all
else falls away.
I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like
the company you keep in the empty moments.
Ralph & Helen on a wild & windy walk
at the Strangles on Christmas Day
Trelay Covenant:
I aim to live by the Trelay Community Values. I am committed to developing and adapting as the community develops.
Trelay Community Values (by which we measure ourselves)
Freedom and respect
We believe in personal freedom, and as we exercise our freedom, we show respect to each other, our land, plants,
animals and buildings, and to the Earth. We are committed to supportive processes for resolving any conflicts.
Love, care, consideration and community
We care about all the people at Trelay. We welcome diversity, empowerment and a sense of belonging. We are learning
how to help, support and nurture each other. Looking after and communicating consistently and completely with each
other is more important than anything else. We believe in decision making based on consensus. We are committed to
living and working together as a community and to regularly reviewing and celebrating our shared vision.
Wise use of money
The financial security of the Trelay community is key and we are committed to consider this in any of our actions.
Our vision is to create an environment that is well maintained and used. We believe expenditure should be with
consideration of the wishes, needs and thoughts of all other community members and with transparency. We will use
capital loans, gifts or grants in order to make Trelay more sustainable.
We believe in the development of sustainable projects and businesses to earn us a secure income but at the same time
we don’t think money is the most important ingredient of happiness.
Sustainability
We aim to live more lightly on the Earth, but we recognise that we can only do our best in an imperfect world. We
expect to gently change our habits of a lifetime, not to abandon the world as it is. We wish to learn and pass on learning.
We appreciate that we are part of a larger community in North Cornwall and we will play our part in developing local
sustainability.
Balance
We believe in a healthy balance between work and leisure and will support each other in achieving this.
Excellence
We aim for everything to be done as well as possible so that Trelay will always be a well-cared for and beautiful place.
Updated by Helen Pinder, Kathy McDonnell and Roger Wade, October 2010
Page 22
WHAT SORT OF PEOPLE LIVE AT TRELAY
I have been thinking recently about similarities and differences between the people who live at Trelay,
and partly from my own observations and partly from the ‘Who Am I?’ documents which most of us have
written, the following points arise:
but also:
-
we all seem to have had many changes of place and direction in our lives, usually moving
towards a more ecologically and emotionally sustainable way of life
we are keen to learn new skills and to share and develop those we already have
we have a love of the outdoors and of plants and/or animals
many of us consider ourselves to be good listeners
most of us consider ourselves to be open to other people’s ideas of philosophy/spirituality
and understand the importance of developing self-awareness
we all have different priorities in our individual levels of ‘green-awareness’
some of us are self-motivated planners and decision-makers
some of us work best in a team, sharing responsibility
some of us like to do heavy physical work
some of us prefer to work in a small-scale, more detailed way
some are skilled in interpreting and analysing ideas
some are good at arguing a case
some find it difficult to ask for what they need
For me the most important point is that, whilst our basic aims are the same, we need all these different
approaches, this range of skills and personalities, in order to sustain a healthy and growing community
which is based on the common values of sustainability, learning/teaching, listening to each other and
developing self-awareness.
by Helen
I cdnuolt blveiee taht I cluod aulaclty uesdnatnrd waht I was rdgnieg. The
phaonmneal pweor of the hmuan mnid! Aoccdrnig to a rscheearch at
Cmabrigde Uinervtisy, it deosn’t mttaer in waht oredr the ltteers in a wrod are,
the olny iprmoatnt tihng is taht the frist and lsat ltteer be in the rghit pclae. The
rset can be a taotl mses and you can sitll raed it wouthit a porbelm. Tihs is
bcuseae the huamn mnid deos not raed ervey lteter by istlef, but the wrod as a
wlohe. And I awlyas thuohgt slpeling was ipmotrant!
Page 23
A VIEW FROM MY ROCKING CHAIR
Now that the trees beyond the chicken house have lost their leaves I can see clouds through their branches.
The clouds here are a constant delight to me after nearly thirty years living in the flat lands of East Anglia.
There, clouds are all the same at any one time, but here there are
many different sorts of clouds all at once, and constantly changing. I
do know the names of some clouds – cirrus, cumulus, cumulo-stratus
etcetera – but remembering which is which and what weather they
relate to would spoil the sheer joy of just watching them. There are
long smooth streaks as though painted with one long sweep of a
brush; lines of fuzzy blobs; herds of flat-bottomed clouds with puffy
tops; columns, like rolls of cotton wool standing on end – all of these
(and more!) can often be seen at the same time, and always moving,
shape-shifting. And I must not forget the solid dark grey rain clouds –
a common sight, but quite stunning when the trees in front of them
are lit bright silver in sunshine.
Now that
the sun sets before bedtime I have the added
delight of a colour display as well. Yesterday at
four in the afternoon I was sitting in my rocking
chair looking out across the yard, and noticed the
clouds through the trees beyond the chicken
house. The sky was pale duck-egg blue, and the
clouds lavender grey with pale apricot highlights
where the sun was shining through the edges. I
would have taken a photograph, but I know from
experience that those subtle colours are not
picked up by the camera, there is not enough light.
Previous attempts have come out looking like an
old bruise – brownish purple with smoked salmon
coloured edges, not very attractive! I wish I had
the courage to get out my watercolours and try to
reproduce the subtlety of the clouds in all their
forms and colours. Maybe one day I will decide to
stop being afraid and just try it. Who knows, it may work.
So if you see me standing in the farmyard, or by the polytunnel, or at the side of the road looking upwards, you
will now know why.
by Helen, Wednesday 23 November 2011
Page 24
Holywell Bay
On 7th of October, Helen and I went to explore a beach
not far south of Newquay (about 40 miles south of
Trelay) where we have never been before. It was called
Holywell Bay, and the scenery was stunning. The bay
was approached via a giant sand-dune, hard to walk up,
feet slipping in the soft sand, that separated the beach
from the village. We walked along the shore-line and
found many more shells than we would usually expect to
find on a Cornish beach. Then we came across a
rectangular blue plastic crate covered with goose
barnacles. These barnacles, which are around 4 cm in
length, attach themselves to ships’ hulls and other
floating objects. In medieval times, they were thought
to be the eggs of the barnacle goose. The barnacles
were alive but it was impossible to return the crate to
the sea. Walking to the end of the beach we went in a
cave, then we admired patterns on the sand where the
waves had swirled wet sand into shapes on the dry sand.
Walking back towards the setting sun, we felt delighted
to have found yet another lovely spot on this wild and
wonderful coast.
by Jackie
MEMORY
Coming home from a windy walk,
My pocket full of shells and
My shoes full of sand
Are reminders of:
A vast sandy beach;
The wind off the sea
Bringing fierce pounding waves,
With foaming edges that leave
Lace-edged patterns
On the sand;
A piece of wood
Brought in by the sea
Edged with alien creatures,
Goose barnacles;
A long walk, fighting the wind,
To the cave
In the cliff, low and deep
With footprints of rock pipits
In the sandy floor;
Rocks rough and contorted
Not smoothed by waves,
Reminders of primeval forces
Beyond imagination.
These words will take me
Back to that beach
Every time I read them.
by Helen
Page 25
Tree Layers
The newsletter of theTrelay Cohousing Community
Number 19
June 2012
Picture collage by Helen
Pinder
Page 26
EDITORIAL
This newsletter is longer than usual, because it covers much of the previous six months. The
previous issue was dedicated to LEAF and focused on that project alone, which took up much of
our time during January, February and March. Now everyone is busy with holiday lets, tidying up
the site, growing vegetables and preparing to go away.
The weather has been only occasionally appropriate for the time of year, and we have had very
heavy rain with strong, gusty winds so work out-of-doors has been limited. There has been lots of
brain work - applying for planning permission for changes to buildings and organising a new legal
structure for our housing (Trelay Home Ownership or THO) which will give greater financial security to individuals and more capital for SWESE (Trelay) Ltd.
We did manage to have a beautiful sunny day for our Jubilee party. But our slugs are huge!
by Helen and Jackie, joint editors
The View from my Rocking Chair
These are some of my recent wild doorstep visitors, photos taken from inside my living room. I
don’t put food out for them; these are my wild neighbours, sharing my space. House sparrows
perching on my watering-can or bench; gold-finches eating weed-seeds; a vole right by the glass of
my door. by Helen
Page 27
Left: Helen,
her friend
Hilary from
Cambridge,
Jackie and
Roger won
the Dizzard
quiz this
year
Right: Helen
wore her
colourful
trousers to
the Queen’s
Jubilee
party at
Trelay
Left: Most of the Trelay tribe at
Crackington beach (except the
children who were too sensible to go
on the beach in the rain). This was
on the occasion of a weekend at
which existing members and new
investors met to discuss our new
Trelay Mutual Home Ownership idea
in detail.
Right: The Trelay
cohousing
community
enjoying a party in
the garden on one
of the few warm
days of summer. It
was Roger’s
birthday and we’d
made him a cake.
Helen
Page 28
Not quite a poem
Mull – the English word means to ponder, to contemplate.
The island lends itself to this.
Primeval mountains and boulders,
wide glacial valleys, hold timeless tranquillity
and the ever-changing but constant sea
is always in sight and mind.
Life is slow and people friendly helpful,
happy to stop and talk about their beautiful home.
The sheep on the road just move to the side
and continue to graze as we drive past.
Longhaired longhorned cows just stop and look,
immobile, unafraid, unthreatening.
I have no phone, no computer, no TV.
I look, and feel, and think, absorbing
the spirit of the place, the rightness of my life,
the tranquillity, and I am filled
with a soft glow of peaceful happiness.
P.S. And I saw a white-tailed sea eagle!
And a red squirrel!
by Helen, October 2012
COMMUNICATION GATHERINGS
During the summer I was aware that there was a lot of emotional tension around Trelay, but that
people were generally not talking about their feelings to the people they felt were responsible for
their frustration, anger or stress but to others who they felt safe with. This seemed to be not
only unproductive but also perpetuating the negativity, so I called a Communication Gathering
(absolutely NOT a Meeting!) one evening in the Games Room – a comfortable space to relax in,
and asked Kathy to help me facilitate the evening. We both have experience of counselling in
different environments, so felt that we could keep the group safe and on track.
Everyone who was on site came. We began by going round the circle saying a few words about
how we were feeling at that moment, and then gave anyone who wanted to the chance to
express anything they wanted to share. It was, as I would expect from the first session, quite
low-key, but surprisingly positive, and I think everyone appreciated the chance to be together and
talk about our feelings, dreams and frustrations rather than ‘business’. We all thought it would
be a very good idea if the gatherings continued, so they have been happening every Thursday
evening since. There is no obligation to attend, but most people do come most weeks.
As the gatherings continued it became clear to me and to Kathy that we were stagnating
somewhat, and that if they were to continue to be useful we needed to express our feelings in
greater depth and intensity, and learn to deal with any consequences. This would mean
challenging people to explore the hidden meanings possibly influencing their feelings, but I have
not had experience of working with groups in this way and also we did not feel it was appropriate
as we are part of the group as well as facilitating it. We intend to continue the gatherings as
they are, and are currently considering bringing in an ‘outsider’ to help us with deeper
exploration, as we feel that this kind of communication would be of great benefit to the cohesion
of the community as a whole as well as to the individuals who are part of it.
by Helen
Page 29
The Original
Cornish Flag
I have developed the theory that the Cornish
Flag started out looking like this and was only
changed to the rectangular version with the
advent of mass-production and printing. Look
around you, see if you agree!
by Helen
Cage
I built myself a cage
to live in
and sat in a corner
wondering
why I couldn’t
why I didn’t
why I wasn’t
wanting to reach out
to the people outside the bars.
I called to them but
a sign said
Beware
so they kept away.
It only took one brave soul
who reached through the bars
and touched me.
Now I am taking the bars away
and soon I won’t need the cage
any more.
I am starting to
reach out
towards other cages
where the signs saying
Beware
are as untrue as mine.
Helen Pinder
October 1980
Helen (right) on
Mull with Jackie
Page 30
The Trelay Ley
Line(s)?
On some old maps, Trelay is spelt Tre-Ley,
and we wondered when we came here if
there were any ley lines across our property.
A ley line is an energy meridian of the Earth.
They are interesting because scientists can’t
locate or measure them, so it is easy to
claim that they don’t exist. But many people
(including scientists!) can “feel” them, or
detect them with dowsing rods, so there is
something going on.
Christine has done some ley line mapping, and several of us
have, independently, identified the top of Undertown (our
largest meadow) as a special spot. This is the place where we
started to build a meditation room the first year we were
here, although the straw bales were not of sufficiently good
quality so it had to be taken down. But the base remains. Near
the base, we erected a small “henge” earlier this year, seen
left with Immy.
Then in July we were visited by Lisa, who is really sensitive to
the energies of the Earth. Without us telling her about the
location of our special spot, she found herself shaking and
trembling quite violently when she was up in Undertown
cutting down the nettles.
So the next
morning, she
took a few of us
up there to
experience the
feeling of the ley
line. As we went
along, the rain
started gently at
first.
Then as Lisa
began to chant,
the heavens
opened. We all
joined in and the
more we
chanted, the
harder it rained. It was a strange and interesting experience, just standing there in heavy rain,
instead of following our usual habit of running for shelter. Memorable.
by Jackie
All shall be well and
All manner of thing shall be well
Page 31
Gifts from the Sea
Millook Haven is a pebble beach for most of the tide though
there is some sand at very low water. The cliffs behind the
beach have
impressive zigzag folding
patterns
formed
320 million years
ago. The
rocks are
part of
the
“Crackington
Formation”,
thin layers
of
Helen
sandstones and shales, deformed by the tectonic plate
collecting
collision at the end of the Carboniferous period that
driftwood
crumpled the earth’s crust giving rise to the tors of
Bodmin Moor.
This dramatic stony beach offers a different feel from
the sand and surf beaches nearby. It is good for watching
the waves and observing wildlife, which includes peregrines, sea birds, the occasional seal, or, if you are really
lucky, a glimpse of a dolphin.
It is also one of the beaches locally which receives much
flotsam and jetsam from the sea. This is mostly seen as a
problem and there is a local group of people who clean the
plastic, old rope and other undesirable items on a regular basis.
The owner of the house by the beach also spends a considerable
amount of time clearing the beach. The National Trust do beach
clear-up days at other local beaches including the Trelay favourite ‘The Strangles’.
Sometimes what is washed up is interesting, useful or both. We
have collected driftwood from beaches for Christmas decorations and had several ideas for
creating craft items from this
bounty.
But one day in December our
new man on the farm
(Cadno), who takes a particular interest in such things,
reported that a considerable
load of wood had been
washed up on the Millook beach. We took two vehicles and five
people (Helen, Charlotte, Jackie, Cadno and Roger) down to the
beach and found a large quantity of clean wood: mostly 2 inches
by 1 inch (when are we going decimal?). We spent an hour or so
collecting the wood and stacked it in Cadno and Roger’s motors
prior to our return to Trelay. It was bracing and fun.
by Roger January 2013
Page 32
A VIEW FROM THE ROCKING
CHAIR
Living with dying
I started writing this in April this year (2013) when I moved from my flat on the farmyard to a
wooden cabin surrounded by greenery and became calmer and more ready to think and write
about my personal journey since I came to Trelay three years before. So now it is the beginning
of September, I have gathered together the random selection of notes from three different
notebooks, and am ready to tell the story of astonishing changes.
I came to Trelay with a strong feeling of coming home, and looking forward to living in a
community again after five years living alone, looking forward to spending the rest of my life
working out of doors, being creative and in touch with the elements and the seasons. But there
were clearly other plans for me, as in June that year (2010) a small lump on my neck was
diagnosed as secondary breast cancer. Ten years after the primary, which had the full range of
treatment – chemotherapy, radical mastectomy, radiotherapy, hormone tablets – I thought I was
clear of it, but now I had small tumours in my lymph nodes, lungs, bones and liver. I had to
rethink my priorities as the cancer and its treatment became the focus of my attention. I also
had to consider whether to stay at Trelay or return to Cambridge, where I had close friends,
shops within walking distance, hospital a short bus-ride away. But when I asked, everyone at
Trelay said they wanted me to stay, which made me feel loved and secure.
I have never been good at dealing with the unknown or unexpected, so invisible and painless
tumours were a challenge – it was very difficult having to wait for the results of scans to find out
how treatment was working. I also had to come to terms with having much less energy for
physical work and a greater need for practical and emotional support. I would have to learn to
accept help gracefully, and to live with what is, not what might have been. Three months of
hormone-suppressing tablets had no effect so I started on chemotherapy, having decided that I
wanted to have conventional treatment and live as long as I could. I got used to the consultant
having no answers to ‘what if…’ or ‘how long…’ questions, but the long journeys to Truro for
chemotherapy were almost as exhausting as the treatment itself. I thought seriously again about
moving back to Cambridge, but I couldn’t
leave the sea and the stars, the trees and
the ever-changing clouds. I couldn’t leave
the people, either – my family now.
I went for a weekend to the Penny Brohn
Centre in Bristol to learn about diet,
exercise & meditation, and to meet
others who were trying to find ways of
living with cancer – some very
inspirational, positive people.
Helen’s new housemate,
Fidget. Sometimes he helps
her to relax and sometimes
he drives her up the wall!
Page 33
I started seeing a counsellor locally so that
I had a space to let out feelings I couldn’t
share with anyone else. Both of these,
and also some inspirational reading,
helped me to find ways of dealing with
the doubts and fears.
I had some good conversations with Jackie about working with what is, not what might have
been, and she lent me the book that has been the greatest help to me, ‘The Power of Now’ by
Eckhart Tolle. I have spent so much of my life trying (mostly unsuccessfully) to work out what
other people want from me that it is very difficult to think about what I need without feeling
selfish or guilty. This, I think, has been the most important journey this illness has taken me on –
to learn to live with what is, not what might have been, and to live in the present. Having been
told for much of my childhood that I was selfish, I am at last learning that it is OK to say ‘No, I
don’t want to do that just now’, and that somehow this frees me to say ‘Yes, I will do that now’,
because I want to not because I feel I should. It means that when I have been weary and
brainless from the side-effects of chemotherapy I can sit in front of the TV for hours without
feeling guilty or that I ‘should’ be doing something else!
I am also learning to ask for help if I need it, and learning that people actually want to help if
they know what I need. So I have to think about what I need help with, and ask. This can still be
difficult! I also have to learn to gracefully accept help that I have not asked for, or that may be
not quite what I would have chosen – to understand that the act of giving is more important than
what is given - and to allow people to say ‘No, I can’t/don’t want to do that’ without feeling
hurt. I think, though sometimes it feels very arrogant, that I am giving people the opportunity to
see what it is like to live with dying, that it is not as scary as they may think, so the learning is
not only one-way. I hope I don’t scare too many visitors by being so open about my illness, or
making jokes about it!
I have recently decided, having had a chemo ‘holiday’ for three months, that I don’t want to
have any more, as I don’t want to live the half-life of the side-effects. I have enjoyed so much
having a brain that works, so to me it makes much more sense to live a shorter but more
involved life, being part of community life and decision-making, than to live longer but with no
enthusiasm or brain-power. Since I made that decision I have had some bouts of quite bad pain,
but that seems to be controllable so there is no reason to change my decision. I will be having
some hormone-suppressing injections, which may keep the tumours under control for a while
longer, so I will have the opportunity to continue to work on my emotional and spiritual
development and have some useful input into the community. I have spent some time this
summer noting butterfly sightings around the Trelay site, but particularly on the buddleia bush
outside my bedroom. I completed a 10-minute report of sightings for the Butterfly Conservation
Trust. This has been a strangely exciting and satisfying activity for me but may also be of wider
use for future surveys and even county-wide studies. I wouldn’t have done this if I had been out
harvesting vegetables or digging weeds!
I just found a list I wrote at some point along the journey, which I shall pin up somewhere to
remind me:
- Messages from childhood are no longer appropriate
- It is OK to ask for help
- People want to help when they can, they just need asking
- When feeling low, make an effort to go out and find someone to talk to, do not wallow
- You find yourself by coming into the present
by Helen Pinder
The Power of Now
Those who have not found their true wealth, which is the radiant joy of Being and the deep,
unshakable peace that comes with it, are beggars, even if they have great material wealth. They
are looking outside for scraps of pleasure or fulfillment, for validation, security, or love, while
they have a treasure within that not only includes all these things but is infinitely greater than
anything the world can offer.
Chapter 1, Page 9, The Power of Now, by Eckhart Tolle
There is nothing wrong with striving to improve your life situation. You can improve your life
situation, but you cannot improve your life. Life is primary. Life is your deepest inner being. It is
already whole, complete, and perfect. There is nothing wrong with setting goals and striving to
achieve things. The mistake lies in using it as a substitute for the feeling of life, for being.
Chapter 4, Page 71, The Power of Now, by Eckhart Tolle
Page 34
Helen’s
drawing of
emotions
Almost all Trelayers were
in this picture taken at
Helen’s birthday in June
2013 . . .
Esther
Lizzie
Bethan
Margot
James
Roger
Chris
Olly
Helen
Marie
Danny
Benoit
Page 35
. . . but Jackie was
taking the picture,
Ash was in the
kitchen, and Mike
and Andy were on
child-care duty
Helen’s Last Year 2014
Above: Helen had
always found
Christmas a very
difficult time since
her son Hugh died
on 27th December
2004. But in 2013 she
came over to the
Farmhouse, joined
in, laughed, and won
Trivial Pursuit
dramatically on her
last Christmas Day.
Early in the spring, Helen was part
of the rescue team that saved many
tadpoles that had hatched out in
puddles in the ponies’ field. John
Bannister and his grandchildren led
the way, and the tadpoles were
taken to the lovely widlife pond at
Trelay, which Helen had created.
Page 36
Two German girls visited at Easter: Sanna and her
sister Leah. Helen usually preferred to eat by herself,
but she joined us in the Trelay Farmhouse for a meal
and we went for a trip to Padstow.
Helen spent many hours hand-painting the
wonderful new Trelay sign, which everyone sees as
they enter Trelay. She worked hard and had it
done in time for Trelay-in-May, at the end of May
When the Trelay-in-May barn dance was on, Helen
was feeling grumpy and didn’t want to join in. But
Margot enticed her over with a gin, and we all
remember how Helen danced and laughed!
It was wonderful when Helen won first prize for
her knitting in the craft section of the St Gennys
Horticultural Show in July
Page 37
At our summer solstice celebrations on the 22nd
June (Helen’s birthday) we had a lovely time
making flower garlands together.
Jackie and Helen had a long walk near Polzeath on the
28th August. This was after Helen had given up all
cancer drugs because they were no longer working.
Helen has a slight sensation of the cancer in her liver
but no pain, and she really enjoyed the walk. We had
no idea at the time that it was to be her last long walk.
On the 3rd October
the weather was
warm and a group of
Trelay people had a
mad swim in the sea.
We are so glad Helen
came! She said felt so
spiritually refreshed.
She certainly didn’t
seem very ill, yet this
was only 4 weeks
before she died.
Page 38
Helen’s Death
These are words from the messages the Jackie sent out on Facebook and by email at the
time that Helen was dying
Thursday 28th October 2014
Many of Helen’s friends will be wondering how she is, knowing she has had over four years of
rewarding life since her cancer returned. Most of you will have been told by Helen in August
that her medication had reached the limit of what it could do to hold the cancer back, and her
care had been handed over from the specialist in Truro to her local GP.
She has had a pleasant autumn, paddling in the sea and enjoying local outings. Until last
Wednesday she was independent, cooking her own food and looking after herself. She was
getting a little weaker and could no longer take the bus into Bude, but when she had a lift in,
she was doing her own shopping and being determined to do her own tasks. There was a
change last week; quite suddenly she seemed tired and weak, and one day she accepted help
with small tasks like taking out her rubbish. Since then she has faded very fast. Over the
weekend, we were not sure if she was having an off-day and would be better this week, and
neither was she. By Monday it seemed she was in a dramatic decline. We talked to her about
this being the last stretch, and at first she couldn’t believe it, but by today, she has accepted
what is happening, and has asked me to let her Facebook friends know.
So, Helen is in the final end-of-life phase, although no-one knows how long this phase will go on
for. It might be less than a week. Ali, the end-of-life nurse, came yesterday and arranged for
the doctor and district nurse team to visit today. We have now arranged a rota for Trelay
people to care for her. One of us will go in four times a day.
She is no longer eating anything very much at all, and prefers plain water. She loves the warmth
of human company and appreciates a smile, a squeeze of the hand, and word of gratitude for
all she has done for Trelay. She doesn’t want too much chatter or noise, and short visits are
better than long. The advice from the nurse was that, if you wish to visit her, visit sooner
rather than later. Or perhaps you’d like to light a candle for her, or hold her in your thoughts.
She is calm, content and smiling, but very weak and low in energy. She was slightly incoherent
in her speech this morning. Mercifully she has almost no pain, just a small ache in her back.
Sharing the journey to Helen’s death is quite an experience for us all at Trelay, and for her
friends and relations who are distant. Hope you are all OK. Death causes all kinds of emotional
upwellings, fears and insecurities in us all. Let’s all care for each other.
Friday
31st October
Helen is fading
gently and
peacefully. Our
‘four-times-a-day’
rota has now
become constant
attendance. (There
are over 20 adults
in the Trelay
Cohousing
Community, so
there are plenty of
volunteers.) We are
love Helen very
much and are
grateful for all she
has done for us in
the five years since
she first visited us,
moving in to our
community four
years ago.
Page 39
Yesterday several people went up to our lovely sea-view field and decorated the roundhouse
known as ‘Helen’s Hut’ (which was built through Helen’s inspiration) with flowers and shells. We
took pictures and showed Helen and she was delighted. We had hoped to take her up there, but
she was too weak in body, yet we feel her spirit will be linked to the Hut for ever.
Margot and I have also been reading out the many Facebook and email messages to her. She is
so happy, feeling so full of love! Her consciousness is changing quite fast, and she is half asleep
much of the time, and not really alert when she is awake. But her sense of humour is strong
and she has been telling us how lovely and comfortable she is.
There was a humorous moment when I went in to see her first thing this morning. She was
sitting on the edge of her bed, and I sat next to her and asked her if she wanted anything. She
was silent for quite a while, then she said, “I want a gorilla!” I managed not to laugh out loud,
and sat and thought, patiently. Maybe she was remembering a soft toy from long ago? So I
asked her if she’d like a stuffed dog to cuddle, and she said yes. I fetched the toy and she
cuddled it all day long. You can see it in the picture on the previous page.
If you’d like to picture her, she is in her log cabin, laying back in a reclining chair in the
sunshine. She can look out of her window and see the goldfinches and other birds on the birdfeeder. She has her favourite pictures of Hugh by her side. Friends are on hand to give her sips
of water, a warm face-cloth, an occasional commode event, and many hugs, kisses and gentle
holding of her hands. I looked at her, and she was completely relaxed, accepting being cared
for, smiling, all her grumpiness seemingly gone. She said, “This is lovely!”
We have talked about the fact that her death may be in a couple of days and that her spirit will
fly, and she is full of acceptance of her death. It is a beautiful dying.
Helen was intelligent and lucid all day
until towards the end of the afternoon,
when she started to find it difficult to
say words. She was feeling extreme
fatigue though, and could hardly move
without help. She shuffled all the way
from her bed to her chair in the sitting
room in the morning, using a zimmer
frame, but we had to take her back to
bed in a wheelchair. Most of the day she
was sitting in her chair in the sunshine,
looking at the trees and birds through
the window. A lovely moment occurred
when three Trelay children came in and
each in turn held her hand and gazed up
into her face, saying nothing.
Thanks to everyone for all your
wonderful messages. We have passed
every message on to Helen, and she is
dying knowing she is loved by a great
many people.
Saturday 1st November
Last night (31st October) I stayed the night with Helen, and I slept quite well after I had settled
her down. She didn’t wake me up, so I think she slept well too. This morning I went in to find
her deeply asleep, breathing very steadily and quite shallowly. She seems close to death. We
don’t think she will wake up again, but she may be able to hear us, so we are whispering words
of love and support. She has an expression of beautiful calmness and contentment on her face.
We have lit a candle by the bed, and her home has an atmosphere of love and peace. There is
quite a team of us keeping a vigil, and it feels as if each of Helen’s breaths is hanging on a
thread, but she may be in this state for quite a time; we don’t know.
Helen remained apparently unconscious all day, but I think there were glimmers of
understanding because when I sat next to her and whispered words of comfort to her, her
eyelids flickered and her breathing increased in speed, so I think she heard me.
During the day Tim, her former partner, arrived, having flown over from France to say
farewell. Two of her brother’s children visited too, (Lorna with her husband Steve and Kelvin
who had encouraged Helen to do a ‘photograph a day’ project) and it was really lovely to have
family members at her bedside.
Margot will be on night duty tonight.
Page 40
Sunday 2nd November
Helen died peacefully last
night (at 21.40 on 1st
November). The expression
on her face is beautiful: she
looks really pleased with
herself! And well she might.
She managed the cancer and
death very well indeed. Her
body is surrounded by
candles and flowers, and
there is a sense of lightness
and happiness in her log
cabin. Of course losing her is
very sad, but the manner of
the death could not have
been better. It was just how
she wished it to be.
A doctor came on Sunday to
certify ‘absence of life’. I
said to him that I had not
seen many dead bodies but
this was the most lovely one
I had ever seen, with such a
wonderful expression of calm
and happiness. And he said he had seen hundreds of dead bodies, but this was the most lovely one
he had ever seen too!
Monday 3rd November
We have decided to hold Helen’s burial ceremony on Wednesday 5th November. Everyone who wishes
to come is welcome - please don’t wait for a personal invitation. Margot will lead a ceremony in and
around Helen’s Hut up in our field. There will be an opportunity for you to speak a few words, give a
short reading or recite a poem. Then we shall have the burial, followed by a wake with refreshments
back at the Farmhouse. If you can’t come and would like to send us a message to read out or to
display on the wall, please send us your message. If you do come, please wear boots and bring
waterproofs or a brolly if it looks as though there will be showers.
We think the most appropriate flowers will be small sprigs of wild flowers or flowers from your
garden, or small potted plants that can be put by Helen’s Hut. You can bring tokens to put in the
niches of Helen’s Hut (anything you think is special, from a feather to a tiny pottery ornament or a
piece of coloured glass).
The reason for going ahead with the burial so soon is that we want to keep Helen’s body here, not
move it around. (She died here and is being buried here, in the spot of her own choosing.) Her
immediate family can manage this, but many other people will not be able to make it because of
the short notice, so we will hold a memorial celebration for her later on.
Of course, we checked to make sure the burial is correct and legal, and were delighted that all the
professionals we have talked to have been very supportive.
Wednesday 5th November
On Sunday the members of the Trelay community came together at Helen’s Hut for a short
ceremony in the afternoon to recognise her passing. On Monday we spent time washing her body
and tidying up after the week of caring for her in her log cabin. We also rested because we know
that caring for the carers is important. On Tuesday I went off to collect the death certificate and I
had to smile because computer system just would not work, and the registrar had to issue a ‘very
rare’ hand-written death certificate. (One of Helen’s hobbies was calligraphy - beautiful handwriting!) Then I collected the hand-made coffin and came back to Trelay to find that Helen’s
brothers, Robin and Martin, had arrived, together with other lovely friends.
This morning, Robin, Martin and several Trelay people are working out the technical details of how
to carry the coffin to the grave and how to lower it into the grave. Meanwhile, a team of people is
in the kitchen preparing delicious food; others are preparing candles and flowers; Margot is collating
tributes, poems and lovely words for the ceremony; and I have been scanning in photos and
preparing the dozens of messages we have received ready to print out and mount on the walls.
There is an atmosphere is quiet business and cooperative energy; of acceptance and peace; of love
and compassion. Helen has brought us all together in a spirit of love, and is linking us to so many
people across the world.
Thank you Helen
Page 41
Messages for Helen just before she died
From Jen
Dear Helen,
I am sitting in a hot and steamy Brisbane thinking of you in Trelay, smiling and transitioning
surrounded by the beautiful love and care of all your friends close by you. I am thinking of you and
your cheeky sense of humour, your twinkling alert eyes, your love of birds and all nature and
passionate knitting and making. Your hut looks very peaceful and sweet and brimming with heart.
We have lit a candle for you send you our love and subtropical peace punctuated with parrots and
cockatoos, currawongs and rosellas (maybe not so peaceful then!). Noah is away on a remote beach
with his friends this weekend and sending you his prayers via the ether, with hints of the vast, blue
Pacific Ocean with long rolling waves and soft sands. We love you.
Jen, Mike and Noah XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
From Steve Bergel
We have received your Facebook messages, email and in the past had updates from Helen and Mum
when there was news to spread and it looks like sadly we are getting to final chapters. We never
really knew Helen that well, meeting infrequently, Christmas, Easter and maybe in between and with
everyone having young families all were busy, and meaningful conversations hard to have. Though in
less stressful times she was always interesting and fun company.
I suppose you really get to know people by the way they deal with adversity and Helen has had that
in spades and I have always really admired the way she has dealt with it all at least outwardly, as I
am sure internally sadness consumes.
One of my 3 brothers has a very spiritual attitude to death and we all have ways of dealing with our
own and our loved ones futures, I tend to feel great sorrow, and wonder at the strength to deal,
daily with the emotions that surface, but also the hole left to those who cared for and loved the
departing.
We live in France and have done so for many years and are lucky enough to have 2 of my brothers
over here and also my Father in the area, and we always believe that the passing of Hugh was one,
if not the catalyst that spurred us to make the move sooner rather than later. As a result we are
rather removed from Helens situation and are so thankful that you and I believe another friend are
there with her, in a place she loves to help and comfort her, for this we and I’m sure the greater
family are eternally grateful and hope you have the strength to get through it.
Please let Helen know what an pleasure it was to know her and have her in my family, and we will
light candles and think of her in the coming days and weeks.
Our love to all at Trelay and our special thanks to you
Steve and Pauline
From Sue
Please send my love to Helen, and of course she and her darling son Hugh will always be in my
thoughts, and my family’s thoughts.
Such wonderful people, such happy memories. Sue xxx
From Fiona Westlake
Thank you so much for mailing us. We are, of course, very sorry to hear of Helen’s condition, but
so glad to know she has such devoted, loving friends to care for her. Please give her our love and
tell her we are thinking of her.
Fiona, Peter and Kit Westlake
Thank you for your full and caring support for Helen. Please squeeze her hand from Tony and
me..and wish her peace. .a brave brave woman who is an honour to know. Please give her our
love... Heather Smith
Page 42
From Edwina
I always yearned for a sister. Thanks for being my big sister, and giving me good memories for
keeps. Lots of love, Edwina.
From Oliver Bergel
I am touched and relieved by your email. Not because of the content but the sense of care and
support Helen is getting and your loving presence that comes through so clearly. And the position you
hold in relation to death, I am pleased Helen has others around who are OK with it.
Australia is a long, long way away and I am not called to make a pilgrimage to say farewell to Helen
but I do feel a tug and a need to express something that I ask you to share with her.
“Dear Helen, there have been moments in our relating when we have shared connection through
spirit and acknowledged the spiritual beings that we are. I hope and pray that as this time of the
physical draws to an end for you and the journey of essence begins that the transition be graceful.
That the vibration of spirit within you guide and illuminate your path and peace be with you. I am
comforted that you have such loving support in Jackie and Margot, I to hold you in my heart at this
time and say farewell.” Love Oliver
From Tim
Dear Helen,
I have heard from Nicolette and Jackie that your cancer is getting much worse and that you are
feeling much weaker and that you do not have much longer to live. I’m struggling to find the right
words here but I mainly want to say how very sad I am to hear this, but also how glad I am that you
did make it to Cornwall and so you are among loving people in the place where you wanted to be.
When I heard that you had stopped chemo I knew, of course, that this moment would arrive but
that does not make it easier when it does, and that completely pales into insignificance compared to
what you have had to deal with. I do so admire you for facing up to your situation so bravely (and
with a great deal of joie de vivre).
I am flying to Bristol on Friday evening and will be at Trelay about noon on Saturday. I look forward
to seeing you then. With love, Tim
From Chris Keppie
Many thanks for this lovely email, for sharing this news so very sensitively. And thank you for all you
and all at Trelay do for Helen - I’m sure quite an extraordinary aspect of community life at its very
best. Please pass on our very best wishes and thoughts to Helen if there’s ever an appropriate time.
She’s borne it all so inspiringly; I hope and pray she will have an easy and positive passing, whatever
that may mean.
In Friendship, Chris
From Lee
Please remember me to Helen.
Helen, you have been a real fighter, I take my hat off to you. You are in my thoughts and prayers.
Your friend and colleague, Lee
From Hilary Sutton
Thank you so much for your kindness in writing to tell us of Helen’s condition. Being so far away in
Cambridge it was good to get such a full description of her current health and care arrangements.
I will keep her and all who are caring for her in my thoughts. May her journey continue to be
peaceful. I wish you the strength to support her and each other.
Kind regards, Hilary Sutton
From Derek
Thank you for the news, it is good to know she is not in pain and among her many caring friends,
may I be so lucky when my time comes. Please let her know I wrote and sent all my love Derek
Bergel
Page 43
From Nicolette
I am so glad to be able to contact you as I wanted to thank you so much appreciate all you are doing
for Helen - thank you from all the family but especially me.
When I rang Helen on Saturday it was a most terrible shock as i had not been in touch for a while
and I felt really upset with myself for not knowing how she was deteriorating; I also worried like
anything about her care. So it was a huge relief when Margot rang me and put me in the picture
and that you and she were happy and able to care for her.
It would be a great kindness if when you are with her and she is not exhausted you could tell her I
think of her every day and that all the boys send love too. Of course Jackie, if she said she would
like to see me I would get on the first train, but from what Margot has said she is probably past
‘seeing’ people and talking on the phone; if you think otherwise please do not hesitate to tell me.
It is emotionally exhausting caring for someone from your heart, but I hope your knowing what a
wonderful thing you are doing for a very special person will outweigh the strain you must be under. I
so value the welcome you have given me every time I have come to Trelay it has meant a lot, and I
will always remember a lovely walk we did one evening when the sun came out at the end of a day.
From Brendan
Sorry to hear that you have become much weaker in the last few days. I’m glad that we have
shared some really important times in our lives. Some of the houses we’ve stayed and walks we did
were uplifting. Sharing in Hugh’s death was unbearably sad. I’m sending you a great big hug,
enjoying many memories of things we did, some very good things, some just for fun. With lots of
Love, Brendan x.
From Mat Bergel
Over here in France we appreciate the news from you and have been talking to Nicolette, who I
suspect has been talking to you too. We are all privileged to have known Helen and she is lucky to
have such good friends as you to help her through this final stage. Bless you all and kisses to Helen.
mat xx
From Jill Angood
Thank you so much for letting us know about Helen; we are many miles too far away to visit her
but please do tell her that Jill is thinking about her, and remembering happy times spent
together.We had the pleasure of living with her at Lifespan and am so glad that her move to Trelay
has opened up a whole level of love and support for her in her last days. I will light a candle for her
and send love across the miles. Jill
From Chris Pyke
I did not know Helen had reached this stage and am grateful to you for letting us know. Please wish
her much love from Jill Angood and me, who lived with her at Lifespan in the early 1980’s and then
had renewed our acquaintance through Cambridge Woodcraft Folk and a weekend walking group.
Our thoughts are with her and with you at Trelay. She is surely in very good company for this
journey. Wishing you all strength and peace, Chris Pyke
From Sanna. a young German student who visited Trelay
hello jackie. I saw the post about Helen. Can you please pass on a lot of love from all of my family
to her? Tell her that she is one of the most wonderful people that I have ever met and I will never
forget the day in Truro last year, because it was so lovely. Lots of love and kisses. Sanna
Have fond memories of Helen, she listened to me when I was going through problems I was having
even though she had her problems with her own health, she’s a very special lady. She will be a very
welcome newcomer in the community in heaven, she will give her love to them there and carry on
with giving warmth here on earth with her wonderful memories.Trelay has became a better place
with Helen’s presence. She will leave it with many folks loving her so much. Mick Catt
How can we be unhappy when Helen is where she so wanted to be for such a long time We know
that she has moved around from one group to another and it such a pity that her time with you all
has turned out to so brief. Please convey our love and tell Helen that she is in our hearts always and
we are all with her in spirit if not in person. Robin and Martin
Page 44
Helen’s Burial
The Burial: Farewell to Helen Mary Pinder
We’re gathered here today to say our last farewells to Helen, and I’d like to include all absent
friends in our circle; we’ve been overwhelmed by messages.
We’re here to comfort one another in our grief;
We are here to give thanks for Helen’s life,
To commit her body to the earth,
To commend her spirit to the air, to fly with her beloved buzzards
Jo’s poem (about buzzard)
Great Spirit, God, source of all love,
Within us and between us,
As we come together in this circle to give thanks for Helen’s life, and huge gratitude for her gentle
dying.
Comfort with gentleness all who are gathered here.
Thank you for the love that keeps us all connected.
For although Helen is gone from our sight, she is not gone from our hearts.
In our moments of grief, may we have the courage
To let quietness come upon us and trust the strength of your embrace supporting us.
Help us to keep our feet firmly on the earth.
Helen faced death bravely, and we’ve honoured all her wishes
I reckon she would say: “Do not stand at my grave and weep, I am not here, I do not sleep” –
and I reckon she’d be right.
Her nephew Kelvin sent a quote from Winnie the Pooh:
“How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard.”
Let’s sing this song to wish her peace:
Deep peace of the running wave to you
Deep peace of the flowing air
Deep peace of the quiet earth to you
Deep peace of the shining stars
May peace, may peace, may peace fill your heart
May peace may peace, may peace fill your soul
Let us stand in silence for a few moments, to remember Helen, to consider her passing, and to send
her our blessings
Roger will say a few words
Robin has a poem to share with us:
A slumber did my spirit seal;
I had no human fears:
She seem’d a thing that could not feel
The touch of earthly years.
No motion has she now, no force;
She neither hears nor sees;
Roll’d round in earth’s diurnal course
With rocks, and stones, and trees.
Page 45
Song by John
Helen wanted to be buried here, up here on the land, and near to the wonderful Round House which
she inspired. Let’s move now to her grave, and bless it and place her coffin in.
Walk over to grave, accompanied by music by Roger
Spirit we bless this grave, where we place Helen’s coffin now in her final resting place.
Helen, your spirit has returned, reunited with the great spirit which connects us all. Your essence
has returned to nature. We honour your body, which held your spirit for so many years, and now we
return it to the goodness of the earth, we bury it with love, with peace in our hearts.
Let’s sing together:
May the road rise with you.
May the wind be always at your back.
May the sunshine warm your face,
And the rains fall soft upon the fields.
Until we meet again, may god hold you in the hollow of her hand.
Music by Roger
Mary Oliver offers this in one of her poems:
To live in this world you must be able to do three things: To love what is mortal, to hold it hard
against your bones , knowing your own life depends upon it, And when the time comes to let it go:
to let it go.
Edith Sitwell said: “Love is not changed by death and nothing is lost; All in the end is harvest”
Burial ceremony written and led by Margot Oakenby, 5th November 2014
Page 46
Helen’s RoundHouse
Everyone in the community, and many of Helen’s relations and friends, were involved in some way with building this beautiful roundhouse,
with caring for Helen as her death came closer, with supporting each other, and with helping with the funeral. Thanks to all. And thank
you so much, Helen, for everything. We miss you and love you.
Helen was told she had terminal cancer
over 4 years ago. She asked for a small
roundhouse to be built at Trelay and in May
2014, she cut the first sod.
She helped Paul position the doorframe so
it would face the sea-view. Paul managed
the building of the frame and roof.
How pleased she looked when the six
uprights were in place!
Helen chiseled a joint in a roof-beam.
She was delighted when the roof-beams
were in place, forming a reciprocal roof.
Christine was part of the team that built
the low walls for the infill.
A group of Trelay people including Danny
stripped the bark from trees and cut
300mm lengths for the cord-wood.
Daisy, Maria and many others worked hard
on the wall infill, made of cord-wood, lime
morter and coloured glass bottles.
Margot and Helen visited the hut to
inspect it and to enjoy sitting on the seat
in September, about 6 weeks before Helen
died.
Visitors including John worked on
completing the walls and windows . . .
which were finished the day before Helen
died, just in time to put a vase of flowers
on the shelf. She saw this picture and was
thrilled!
Page 47
Tim, who had been Helen’s partner in the
past, visited Helen on the day she died (1st
November) and we took him to see the
roundhouse.
PAGE 4
Then Roger showed him the grave which
had already been dug: Helen had said,
“Please dig my grave while we have the
digger on hire!”
Helen’s nephew and niece also came to
see Helen and visited the hut on that day.
The next day the Trelay Community heard
that Helen had died in the night in her cabin
at Trelay, and we all went up to Helen’s Hut
to think about her passing.
We lit candles in the niches and it became
like a magical, peaceful, spiritual place.
Margot and Jackie played drums.
Roger played his violin under the lovely
reciprocal roof.
Three days later, we collected flowers from
the polytunnel.
Helen’s Hut was beautifully decorated and
a central fire was lit.
The bearers (including Helen’s brothers,
Martin and Robin) carried Helen’s coffin
up past the roundhouse.
Margot conducted a very moving
ceremony in this beautiful place, under the
golden light of the sun and the pale light of
the rising moon. Jo read the poem she had
composed about a buzzard, and John sang.
Helen’s body was laid to rest exactly
according to her wishes.
Back in the Farmhouse, a wonderful spread
of food had been prepared, and pictures of
Helen looked over us as we talked about
her life.
Page 48
October - November - December 2014
PAGE 5
Messages after Helen’s Death
From Viv
For all at Trelay Cohousing and anyone that knew Helen Pinder :
The loss of a loved one leaves a heartache no one can heal,
The love you shared leaves memories no one can steal.
From Lauren
I wanted to say thank you so much for your postings on Facebook and your emails to us. It was
immense comfort to be able to share - albeit at a distance - Helen’s last few days. To see for myself
all she aspired to, in life and its passing, was being fulfilled. At last she arrives in her dreamtime.
I was particularly moved by the two sets of photos that you posted so clearly illustrating Helen’s
vitality and enthusiasm at the end. We visited Trelay in 2011 on Helen’s birthday and during the
week she showed us the farm. As we walked around she talked about all the work that had gone
into producing that year’s veg. She was particularly proud of the new crop of piglets. Then we
trudged up to the top field so that she could show us the sea and as we stood there with the wind
blowing in our hair she said, “We should have a shelter up here.” I don’t know if that was the first
time this idea had occurred to her, but it was a real joy to see Helen’s Hut coming into being and to
know that she had had such an active role in its creation. I was also moved by the lovely record of
the walk that you both took at the end of August. This was always Helen at her happiest . Both sets
of photos moved me to tears more than once but paradoxically the tears were joyful not sad.
We knew that we would not be with Helen at her death but it did not occur to us that we would not
make the funeral. Funerals are important to us and we are grateful that Helen will be getting the
funeral that she wanted. We broke into loud laughter when, late Saturday night, we read Tim’s
description of Helen’s grave-hole being all ready to receive her at Helen’s own devising - how very
typical. However when we started to do the research into flights to get to Trelay it very rapidly
became apparent that, whether we could arrive at all was dubious. If we could contrive to get there
by a convoluted combination of buses and flights from Barcelona (which is 1000km away from here),
and then the drive from London to Trelay, at best we would arrive exhausted having spent a fortune
which we don’t actually have and cost the earth dearly in terms of carbon emissions! Never mind
what we wanted, we could not even convince ourselves it was what Helen would have wanted. So, as
with her passing, we will instead join with you all in spirit. We are going to drive into the mountains
here to remember Helen and celebrate her life and our friendship.
If I could have come to the funeral I would have brought two things. One was a song, Breaths by
Ysaye M Barnwell which I would have liked to have sung for her. I know she loved this song, perhaps
it might get played at the wake if you receive this email in time, this is a link:https://
www.youtube.com/watch?v=o3e-zLKyZLw
The other was a cloak I have in my possession which Helen made. It is a gorgeous thing amply
displaying Helen’s mostly well-kept-hidden artistic creativity. It is made out of upholstery-weight
dark green velvet, full length and cut on the bias so that when laid flat it forms an almost complete
circle. What makes it astonishing is the lining which depicts the yellow velvet rays of sunlight around
the neckline, and satin green fielded hills and a pale pink/lilac dove on a pale blue sky.
My first thought was that I would wear it to the funeral, my second was to wonder if Helen should
be buried in it, but I realised that what I would actually like to happen is for it to hang in Helen’s
hut. Then if passing visitors are caught out chilly they will quite literally be warmed by Helen. If
Trelay feels this would be appropriate then I shall bring it to her memorial.
Talking of the memorial I know that you have planned to hold this in the spring, but might I suggest
that you consider holding it on, or close to, her birthday, 22nd June. Helen loved to celebrate her
birthday and I have many fond memories of picnics in various settings and parties in June. Holding
the memorial in the summer would also mean that those of us coming from a considerable distance
could combine it with a holiday in Cornwall which would help to justify the carbon we expend getting
to you!
Finally thank you again so much to you and all the Trelay community for the love and care you
extended to Helen.
much love, God/Goddess Bless, Lauren
Page 49
From Lulu
(One of many messages from Lulu)
Helen is bringing so many people together. When she and I talked about her death during my last
visit with her in September I told her I wasn’t surprised that she was once again pioneering as she
was giving Trelayers an opportunity to explore how the death of a community member would unfold.
That provoked a few tears from both of us and she smiled broadly at that too.
I had been doing some quiet research into coffins for her so I told her she could go to a workshop to
make her own coffin. She said,’ No! I haven’t got time to mess about doing that! I’ve got birds to
watch!’ In another conversation she told me that she felt very privileged to be dying in such a
conscious, aware and present way rather than being randomly run over by a bus unexpectedly. And
she was so happy to be doing it there at her beloved Trelay since she was doing it.
And this too brought tears to our eyes which was very much how we have always been...One of us
laughing or crying or both of us. And then, because we were obsessed we turned the conversation
round to a shared pleasure...knitting, of course!!
Tribute to Helen from Verona
I met Helen while I was staying at Trelay in 2009 for an extended period. She visited for an Interest
Week-end and I recall her enthusiasm vividly. She thought it was all wonderful, and loved the idea of
the eco-community so much. It all seemed too good to be true. ‘What’s the catch?’ she asked.
I was so glad that she managed to get her life organised so that she could go and live there. In
subsequent years I saw her only a few times but we always had a happy connection. She had such a
lovely smile and an open face. Her eyes sparkled with a zest for life newly discovered. I know that
we shared happy times around the fireside, with music, and laughter. My particular memory of a
good period spent with her was when we made bunting flags together in her cottage for the Trelayin-May Festival in 2014. In the course of a morning, beavering at two sewing machines, we found
shared interests, and in particular that we were Anglia Poly alumni from Cambridge days.
I think that Helen found a haven and a great deal of peace, as well as stimulation at Trelay, which
gave her a home, with people who cared. In this world there can be few things as beautiful as being
sent on your way by friends conducting a special ceremonial in a place that is meaningful and of
one’s own choosing. Helen’s Hut will bear her name. Her legacy on Undertown will inspire others,
and give a space for peaceful meditation. Now that’s special.
The ‘catch’ was that she didn’t have as long to enjoy life at Trelay as she might have wished, but
she did have a good life there and ended her days there, with love all around. In the course of
writing this I’ve looked at the ‘Trelayers’ newsletters, seen pictures of Helen in lovely settings, read
some of her words. She had wisdom, and perhaps the honest communication she advocated will
remain as a lasting legacy too. I end with a quote from the Trelayers 21 newsletter.
‘Freedom’s just another word for nothing left to lose’’
Love Verona
From Tammy and Mark
I remember the day we first met Helen well. We were visiting Trelay for the weekend to decide if it
would be the community we would like to join. There was so much information to take in but all
that paled into insignificance as the beauty of the place was breath taking.
We moved into Trelay within a week of each other and were neighbours. We soon became friends
and confidants. Giving each other a shoulder to let out all the irritants in life and poor Helen had
more than her fair share to moan about, but it was never the case, she dealt with her long illness
with dignity choosing to put up with it and get on with it.
I remember once spending a very pleasant morning making jewellery in our kitchen.
I am so pleased for Helen that everything went the way she planned and I hope she meets up with
our cat who is also spending eternity at Trelay.
I am proud to have met a very strong independent brave woman called Helen Pinder who we will
keep a place in our hearts forever.
Love from Tammy, Mark, Hazel and Jack Betson x
Page 50
From Hilary Taylor
I’m so sorry I can’t be with you all today for Helen’s burial, but my thoughts will be with you all at
Trelay, and I will be lighting a candle here at 4.00 as a token of that. Candles were important to
Helen - I remember many winter solstice celebrations at her house with lighted candles in the
darkest time of the year. And the night Hugh died, as I sat with Helen and Tim trying to
comprehend what had happened, we lit a candle on the hearth. It was just after Christmas, still in
that dark time. And it seem fitting somehow that she should have left the world at this season when
light gives place to darkness and we are reminded that we must live with both by festivals like All
Hallows, All Souls, Samhain, the Day of the Dead.
Helen’s Woodcraft Folk friends in Cambridge are planning a walk in her memory. When she lived in
Cambridge she enjoyed Woodcraft Folk walks, and the plan is to visit one of the local woodlands or
nature reserves that she loved, and remember her as we walk.
Thank you all so much for the love that you have shown Helen, and the care you have taken of her
and her friends in these last days. I think her time at Trelay has been one of the happiest and most
healing times of her life.
Please pass on this message to everyone who is there today - it comes with my love. Hilary
Tribute to Helen from Lowana
I first met Helen before she moved to Cambridge. I was living in London and active in the peace
movement and various other things; she was in Nottingham, working for Peace News. However, I
think we first met during an occupation of drainpipes at what was to become Torness nuclear power
station. I was with a London nonviolent direct action group, she was in the adjacent drainpipe with
the Nottingham group who I seemed to remember were also playing music.
We met again when we were both living in Cambridge. At that time, Helen was working for another
cooperative, the Cambridge Free Press printing collective. Later, we both lived in Argyle Street
Housing Coop, though not in the same house. That’s when we became good friends. She was an
active member of the coop, unlike some people. Later, she worked part-time for Cambridge
Women’s Aid.
I was not surprised when Helen said she thought she’d found her ideal community – Trelay. And she
was very content here. Though I now live in Iceland, I came to visit twice – once with my ex-housing
coop friends who now live the other side of Penzance and once two years ago, when I stayed the
night. As you Trelay people know, I had been intending to visit Helen again later in November, but it
was not to be. And because Trelay is so inaccessible by public transport, I couldn’t change my plans
at the end of last week and come to see her sooner, nor was it feasible to come to the funeral,
much as I wanted to.
I only got a Facebook page a year ago, primarily so I would not miss out on demonstrations and the
like which are increasingly organised on Facebook. But I also have about 20 “friends”. Helen and I
became Facebook friends in August, so Facebook tells me. At some point in August, I became aware
that Helen seemed to be feeling somewhat negative, judging by her responses to other people’s
posts. So I emailed her in mid-August and asked her how she was. It was then that she said that her
treatments had stopped working and she’d decided not to go back on chemo again, and that yes,
she had been very up-and-down emotionally. She said she’d have to get around to telling people
about it, as only her family and the Trelay people knew.
At that point I was aware that I would need to see her soon. For some reason that I can’t explain,
from that time on I was very perceptive into Helen’s health and well-being. On 2 October I booked a
trip to the UK for November 14, when we will take two self-seeded birch saplings to Cambridge to
plant in a memorial orchard for a friend who loved Iceland and died of cancer two years ago. But
warning bells rang two and a half weeks ago when I emailed Helen to see how she was and she said
she’d had abdominal pains for a few weeks. And again the Sunday before she died, when she said
she was vey low and tired, and not eating much, and she hoped it wasn’t permanent. I realised then
that I wouldn’t see her again. You all know the rest.
At her moment of passing, I was out walking with my partner Siggi. I intend to do the same at the
time of her funeral. And we will come to Trelay as originally planned on November 27.
Goodbye Helen. Much love. Lowana
From Monika
How sad that Helen has lost her long battle, but how wonderful that she was in the place she felt so
happy and at peace. I am so pleased I popped in to see her in her cosy home in May when we visited
Trelay. Helen’s Hut looks lovely, a fitting memorial. I hope the service goes well tomorrow, I will be
there in spirit and thinking of you all. Much love, Monika
Page 51
From Colin and Mags
Thank you for your message about Helen. We were sorry to hear that she had died but considering
what she was going through it wasn’t a complete surprise.
What a wonderful idea she had to be buried on the farm. We cannot come tomorrow but sometime
soon would like to come over and see you and the others and your progress. I hope it stays dry for
the afternoon. Best wishes , Colin and Mags.
From Kathy
I’d love to have come along to the ceremony but it’s on a day when I just can’t leave work early. It’s
a shame as I’d have liked to have joined you all in a celebration of Helen’s life! I do feel though that
coming over last Friday to see Helen allowed me to say my goodbyes to her, which is great.
I’ll be thinking of you all (and Helen) on the day,
Love from, Kathy x
From John Bannister
Helen taught my grandchildren how to bake bread. I shall always remember that and her tough but
kind approach to everything.
I’d love to come to the Spring celebrations please. Love, John
From Chris Keppie
Helen’s hut looks absolutely gorgeous. A very lovely legacy and tribute to her. I’m so glad she was
able to see it, and that she will be buried nearby.
Thanks again for all your emails and updates. Sorry we can’t make it on weds, but will be with you
all in spirit. Best wishes, Chris
From the secretary of Helen’s cancer specialist
Thank you for your email which I have passed onto Dr. Thomson.
Our thoughts are with you at this very difficult time. You know where we are if you ever need to
pop in for a chat. Take care, Philippa
From Chris Beckett
Thank you for letting us know. I must say I hope that when it comes to my turn, I am cared for half
as well as you have obviously been caring for Helen. Best wishes, Chris
From Steve Woods
I have fond memories of the times I pent with her. Love Steve
From Jill
A colleague has let me know about Helen. She worked with us at Hills Road Sixth Form College in
Cambridge for some time and it was while working here that she was first diagnosed with cancer.
She then went through a troubled time with the death of her only son and the break-up of her
relationship with Tim but we felt sure that she would find contentment when she moved to Cornwall
to be part of a community. From the little I know it would seem that she was happy and had finally
found peace and love amongst friends. Please light a candle on behalf of her friends here at the
College who remember Helen with affection. Regards, Jill
From Philippa
Thank you very much indeed for your thoughtful messages yesterday and today and for the
wonderful way you all cared for Helen.
I didn’t know Helen hugely well (as a friend of Hilary Taylor so we met together to play Mah Jong
and birdwatch) but felt honoured to know her and to be able to keep in touch when she was in
Cornwall. She was a lovely and gentle person and we have lost someone special indeed. My thoughts
and condolences are with you all at this sad time. Thank you again. Philippa (Evans)
Page 52
From Lynda
Thanks for your beautiful words. Helps so much to have images of Helen and the love of the people
who cared for her. Lynda
From Tim Dixon
Sad to hear helen has died. Sounds like she had a calm and peaceful death. Tim
From Mark Betson
Sad news. I am releaved Helen is now at peace and died where she wanted surrounded by the love
only true friends can give. Thank you to everyone at Trelay for looking after her over the years,
particularly for your dedication and compassion in the final days. You are an inspiration to us all.
From Tammy Betson
I remember the day we both visited Trelay Cohousing and how we convinced each other it would be
a great move for us all, sadly it didnt work out for us, but I am so glad it worked out for Helen
exactly as she planned, she deserved the end she wanted with everything she went thru, I am sure
she will be in everyone’s thoughts for a very long time.
From Paul Gervis
Dear all of you - the friends of Helen,
As soon as I received your email I started crying - not in sorrow for Helen’s approaching death, sad
though it is, for obviously we had known that her end was approaching. No, I was crying for the
beauty of your actions - in loving her at the end of her life.
I am Nicolette’s brother and for more than 50 years our branch of the family has been living in
Colombia so Helen became part of our extended family although my wife and I normally only met
her at family dinners at Nicolette’s when we were over for our annual trips. And once fatally she
took us out to dinner at Cambridge (on Timothy’s instructions). Their son Hugh was with her. We
had a noisy, merry evening. Timothy was travelling but doubtless he had given instructions that Uncle
Paul would need his glass refilled frequently. But alas, alas alas, that was just weeks before Hugh
died.
I should have answered you yesterday, but I only came out of hospital myself yesterday afternoon
after what has now become the standard hip replacement operation. So, feeling far from my best, I
didn’t even open my emails until this morning. And we are six hours behind you so it is still not quite
midday here in Bogota. And why did I cry when I read your email. Because you are doing exactly
what we all should be doing. You are asking yourselves how can we help others? Not how can we kill
people as our governments do continuously - especially in the Middle East.
Timothy has spent weeks with us in the Amazon bird-watching . He loved it. I can’t take any of you
there. I am just not up to scrambling in and out of canoes. But here’s an open offer. If you and any
of Helen’s friends from Trelay would like to visit our small farm - just bananas, oranges lemons and
mangos. Plus my wife’s orchids and my sculptures, you would be very welcome. Something good
should come from Helen’s death.
My wife and I send warm greetings. Best wishes Paul and Dione Gervis.
From Fiona
Many thanks for your tremendous support of Helen and your wonderfully evocative emails. I have no
doubt that you and all at Trelay are helping her spend her last days and hours exactly as she would
like given her illness. If you have the chance, please let her know that we’re lighting a candle for her
and sending loving thoughts.
We feel very fortunate to have visited her in April. We took some lovely photos of her with us on the
beach at Widemouth on her camera but she had some computer struggles and never found a way to
send them to us. If anyone your end manages to retrieve and send them that would be absolutely
lovely, but no pressure, you are doing so much already.
Love and gratitude to you all, Fiona (Helen’s niece, daughter of her dear brother Peter who went
ahead of her just over 3 years ago), Nick (nephew in law), Martin aged 3.5 and Kirsty aged 2
months (great nephew and niece).
Page 53
My Life with Helen
Dear friends and people I do not know, I am sorry not to be with you for Helen’s funeral, but very
glad that I did manage to visit her before she died. I hope & expect to be here for a celebration of
her life later on. For now I am afraid you will have to make do with my words.
Helen was a person with a very wide range of experience, skills and knowledge - printing, weaving
and left-wing/anarchist politics to name but a few - but when I was thinking about what I wanted to
say to you all about her, I decided to try to describe things that most directly affected me during the
time I knew her, hoping to give you extra understanding of her and her life.
Helen was very good with words and language, and had the largest vocabulary of anybody that I
know. I learnt very early on that there was no real point in my playing scrabble with her as I was far
too much outmatched to provide us with a decent game! She was also an expert solver of
crosswords, specialising in the cryptic crosswords set by people like Auracaria, and could get through
them quickly while I (& most other people) struggled to even understand why the answers she found
were correct. She delighted in the extra-complicated giant crosswords printed in the Guardian now
and then (the sort of thing where there are two crossword grids, with the answers in grid A used as
part of the clues for grid B and vice versa - completely impossible!) and I recall one Christmas after
we had separated when she didn’t have the special Xmas crossword and I was able to find it, scan it,
and email it to her, thus providing her with hours of happy absorption.
I knew that Helen had worked with children before I knew her, but her understanding of children and
child development became clear after our son Hugh was born. While I was groping in the dark trying
to understand what Hugh needed, Helen had very clear ideas from the outset. I learnt a great deal
about raising a child from her and grew to love it, which led to my considerable and very happy
involvement in the Woodcraft folk. I will always regard our joint parenting of Hugh as one of the
(maybe the single) best and most important parts of my life. I think we did a good job! And on that
terrible, terrible, day when Hugh died, we comforted and supported each other as best we could.
Helen and I shared a love of the outdoors, walking and wildlife (she did the plants while I specialised
in insects) and we did a bit of low-key birdwatching now and then. This changed when we were out
for a walk one day in Cornwall and a green woodpecker flew squawking over the hedge closely
followed by a sparrowhawk and they tumbled together into the grass about ten yards away. We just
stood there and watched the ensuing battle as they slowly slid to within just a few yards of us
before the sparrowhawk finally gained the upper hand and carried his prey away into the hedge. We
were completely enthused by this and quickly got to know the RSPB reserves near Cambridge and
discovered what a great birding area we lived in. Hugh was less enthusiastic about long discussions
on the exact identification of a duck 200 metres away across freezing mudflats, and was overheard
by one of our friends saying how he tended to give us ten minutes, then started asking questions
and kicking the walls of the hide, which would generally get us into motion. Luckily by this time he
was a lot older and we were generally able to make arrangements for him to spend the day with
friends instead. Birding is still a major enthusiasm of mine, and something that both of us learnt
from each other.
After we separated Helen and I remained friends and kept in touch, going on various walking
weekends with a group of our joint friends and making the occasional foray to the north Norfolk
coast for birdwatching purposes. One day she came to me with a proposition: would I like to share
an allotment with her and our joint friend Hilary? I was not sure, but came along to look at the
possible allotment locations that she had found (while managing somehow to completely cut-through
the long waiting list for allotments in Cambridge) with them. I was soon carried away by the idea
and within days had embarked on a battle royal with the local brambles that occupied me for much
of the following two years. Again, this was something that all three of learnt together, with each of
us having a little prior experience that we could contribute but all of us sharing a pretty general
ignorance. It was fun planning the year’s plantings with Helen and Hilary! The allotment still thrives
under the care of Hilary and other friends and here I am now in France, trying to buy a house with
land on which I will grow vegetables and fruit, keep chickens, and hopefully bees. Thank you for
that, Helen.
Helen’s first bout of cancer came while we were still together and Hugh was 12. It was not exactly a
joyous experience - it seemed to be a series of discoveries that when the doctor said ‘it could be as
minor as X, or as bad as Y’, what they were really saying was ‘brace yourselves for Y’. But we got
through it and Helen was told she was ‘clear’ and we were all very grateful for that. But what I
remember now is that not once did Helen complain that this had happened to her, or fail to accept
all the various tribulations while remaining her usual tough self. Later I heard from her about Trelay
(she had always wanted to move to Cornwall) and helped her to move her stuff there. And then, not
that long after she moved, I heard from her that the cancer had come back - which I will always feel
was a rotten deal just when she had found the place she wanted to be. I heard from her occasionally
describing how the treatment was (or was not) working but was not prepared to hear back in the
spring that she was abandoning the treatments as they were destroying her quality of life. But of
course when I did I knew that this meant that I would at some time be typing these words.
Page 54
I think that her decision to stop further treatment was very much a Helen’ish sort of decision tough yet wise - but mostly I am so very glad that she was able to make it to Cornwall as she so
wanted, and that she was able to end her life here at Trelay, a place and people that she loved,
among people that loved her.
Tim Bergel 4th November 2014
From Fiona
Here is a a photo of our son Martin looking at his new sister Kirsty in the pram when she was a
few days old early last September. Helen especially appreciated seeing this photo as there is a
similar one of my Dad stretching up to peep into her pram when she was a baby, so it is a bit
like history repeating or something,
especially as everyone says how much
little Martin looks like his late Grandad.
As a young child I remember looking
forward to seeing my Aunty Helen
(though she preferred simply to be called
'Helen'), but didn't see her that much as
she didn't live very near us. She was a
good artist and I always wanted her to do
some drawing with me! My Dad
commented good-humouredly on how we
both made delicious concoctions in the
kitchen - and a horrendous mess too by
the time we'd finished! I always felt some
kind of kindred spirit with her and as an
adult gradually came to realise it wasn't
just about making a creative and
delicious mess! We shared a love and
respect for the natural world and
outdoors, an independent and freethinking attitude, an interest in other places and cultures, a desire to campaign against the
injustices we saw in the world, sharing dreadful puns, and in the last 3.5 years I discovered,
some similar views on parenting and a determination to do the earth-mother thing and
breastfeed our extremely hungry babies - no mean feat as anyone familiar with the Coleman
appetite will tell you! My husband Nick joined the family after Helen's son Hugh tragically died
aged 16, but Helen echoed what I'd already said to Nick, that it was such a shame he and Hugh
never met as they would have got on so well, sharing an interest in jazz music amongst other
things, and great sense of fun and humour. We will miss Helen so much but are so happy for
her that she spent her last days in a place she loved with people she loved and was able to pass
away peacefully and be buried there too.
Apple Dusk
Deb Nelson
May 2013
Here is a short poem I wrote in May 2013. It came out of
a dream - I wrote it as I woke up. Don't know why it
seems to fit, but there you are. The tender inner-self,
which Helen and I both shared sometimes. Deb
Translucent dusk: the gentle people move
among the apple-lanterned trees,
Unhurried. Smiling,
Quiet laughter rings still boughs,
A long-haired woman’s dress darkens with
dew.
All down the long and gentle slope
slowly I fly. They’re saying nothing,
nothing: do not
stop, or stare, but pick and eat
the pale globes of fruit.
Page 55
DEC 2014 - Issue 30
TREE LAYERS
The newsletter of the Trelay Cohousing Community
IN THIS ISSUE!
In Loving Memory of Helen
Trelay Farm, St Genny’s, Bude, Cornwall, EX23 0NJ
Page 56
October - November - December 2014
PAGE 1
Farewell to our dear friend Helen
It’s been quite a journey from first meeting Helen when I arrived
at Trelay nearly 2 years ago, to her death on November 1st 2014.
I discovered a quiet, thoughtful woman who had extremely
strong views on certain subjects, and whose life was coloured
and scarred by a very sad experience when her only son died
ten or so years ago. And the subsequent reappearance of the
dreaded cancer. I took to her immediately, we had some deep and
meaningful conversations about life and death, and latterly insights
into our childhoods and earlier experiences. We had both lived
in community before, which made for another link. Her feminism
and love of words were both very strong. And the speed at which
she completed jigsaw puzzles was phenomenal. I’m glad to say I’ve
caught the habit, though not the speed.
Long journeys to Truro for treatment and check-ups provided
time and space for conversation. Her decision to stop chemo
earlier this year was fully supported by me, and it was a joy to see
her return to her full vigour and get her life back for a short few
months before she started the downward spiral, gradually losing
energy, then appetite. It was a race, but we got a round house
built to her specs, and thanks to Jackie’s insistence, the workand
energy of many people this was completed before her death.
Now known as Helens Hut, it was a joy to see her pleasure in this
small building become the reality she had dreamed of.
We fully endorsed her determination to stay at home for her end
of life, not have strangers come to care, and to be buried here on
the land. She had picked a spot up in Undertown ages ago with a
sea view, quite the best spot and often frequented by the buzzards
which she so adored. So when the time came we knew what to
do: we cared for her in her cabin for that last brief week, kept her
body on her bed until the time came for her burial, and then with
much consideration from her brothers, she was carried on her
last journey, up the fields to her final resting place with a simple
ceremony to wish her farewell.
It’s so precious to have the Roundhouse up there too, a fitting
memorial to her, and a place for sitting quietly in meditation or
contemplation.
I miss you Helen! Your quiet ability to stick to your guns, dig your
heels in, say no; I learnt a lot and felt totally supported by you. I’m
so sad you had to leave us, but I wish you well on your onward
journey, wherever that may take you... The mystery of the afterlife:
we ponder on what that means, yet I can feel you sometimes in
the air, or round my shoulders as I wear your beautifully knitted
cardigan; I believe you’re not too far away. Blessings friend, and
much love.
Oops, Helen, you’re not here for a check! Did I put too many
commas in this piece?!
By Margot
Buzzard
Bird of grandeur, bird of flight
Circling high with all her might
Swooping suddenly, deep and low
What a truly magnificent show
Free spirit, All Hallows night
Reaching for the stars
She takes her flight
(composed by Jo for Helen’s funeral)
PAGE 2
Page 57
......Go Gently Into the Good Night
Death, it´s that time of year...winter, decaying leaves, the shorter
days.
Helen´s death, the 1st November, the day after Halloween, All
Hallows Night. What an auspicious time for her to die.
I believe that Helen had a ´good death´, cared for lovingly in a
place very dear to her heart knowing that she would be buried
in her beloved place near Helen´s Hut overlooking the sea. What
better way to go.
For me, Helen´s ´dying process´ brought up some uncomfortable
feelings and on some emotional level I did not feel able to fully
commit to her care.
My mother, unlike Helen did not ¨go gently into the good night´.
To quote a classic Dylan Thomas poem she raged and raged
against the dying of the light. Like a wounded matador´s bull she
fought relentlessly, tearing apart our family already stretched to
the limit by the stress and strain of her long, interminable care.
Her calling out in the night for ´mummy, mummy´ or Edward,
my late father. Heartbreaking doesn´t begin to describe it. Broken
sleep and family rifts were not conducive to unconditional love.
But despite all the problems, the night that she died I told my
mother I loved her. She looked up at me from her bed that had for
her been a prison the last few months, the wildness and anguish
in her eyes seemed to soften. ¨Do you?¨ she said uncertainly. I
squeezed her hand and replied ¨Of course I do´.
She died a few hours later, in her own home with me there. The
daughter who she had little in common with, had never made
cakes with, or knitted or crocheted, the daughter who hated
playing with dolls and rejected her beautifully home made dresses.
But my mother gave me a great gift, she truly believed in me. In
her eyes I could be or do anything. What a gift!
I did not know Helen very
well but in my experience
hers was such a good, gentle,
dignified death, thanks to the
support of Trelay members
and especially to her loving
friends Margot and Jackie.
By Jo
Knowing that you’re going to die
Helen had copied this into her notebook from a library book in
April 2014, about 6 months before she died. From ‘The Elephant
Keeper’s Children’ by Peter Hoeg.
‘Knowing in your mind that you’re going to die can be bad
enough in itself, but feeling it in your heart, feeling the reality of
it, is a thing humans generally find themselves unable to cope
with. But . . . there comes a time when you can no longer stand
to close your eyes and blot everything out, and for me that time
would seem to have come now.
What I do in a way is to give the feeling space . . . allowing images
of death to come to the fore . . . I see myself saying goodbye and
then reaching inside into the feeling of death itself . . . I try to
refrain from seeking solace in the thought of some miraculous
reprieve. I refrain from seeking comfort in the thought that a
light will simply go out. I refrain from imagining anything at all. The
only thing I can do is feel the weight of the farewell none of us
can ever avoid.
At the very moment I sense that everything will be lost and
hence nothing is worth holding onto, something happens. What
happens is that a little gleaming happiness and freedom appears.
Nothing else changes . . . and then, for a brief moment it’s as
though time stops. Or rather, it doesn’t exist . . . The feeling of
anxiety and incarceration is gone and what you feel instead is
freedom. You sense that there is a way of being present in the
world that will never expire . . . We will of course die but there is
something else beyond, a thing for which there is no words, but
of which one is a part, and which never dies.’
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October - November - December 2014
PAGE 3
New Year Woodcraft Walk
Here are some photos I
took on the New Year
Cambridge Woodcraft
Walk along Devil's Dyke
in Helen's memory.
by Hilary
Helen’s Memorial Weekend at Trelay
Above: Lorna and Steve played
recorders in Helen’s Hut
Below: Nick, Lauren, Tim and
Hilary around the equinox bonfire
Page 59
Bodmin Moor
with Rough Tor
on the horizon
Fish
and
chips!
Rocky Valley.
Jackie wore a
jumper knitted
by Helen
The cliffs above Bossiney
When Helen Pinder died at the beginning
of November last year, we fixed the
burial after only a few days because we
were burying her on our own land. This
meant it was rather short notice for her
friends and relations to be able to get to
Trelay, especially as she had quite a few
friends abroad. So we arranged a
memorial on the spring equinox
weekend, and planned several days of
events to make it worthwhile for people
to come. People came from Spain,
France, Iceland and Cambridge, with
many local people joining in too.
Boscastle
Farm Shop
On Thursday 19th March, we had a walk
on Bodmin Moor, one of Helen’s favourite
places, and on the way home we bought
fish and chips for everybody from her
favourite chippy. On the Friday, after an exciting bacon butty breakfast picnic enjoying the eclipse
experience, we had a wonderful walk along Rocky Valley, near Boscastle. The weather was really
lovely, the sight of the rushing river and craggy rocks brought us joy, and when we climbed up the
steps towards Tintagel, overlooking Bossiney, the view was spectacular. This was another of Helen’s
favourite places, and we were pleased to sit on the seat where she had often sat. We stopped and
had lunch at the Boscastle Farm Shop, which was the last place she had visited before her death,
then went back to Trelay for a quiet afternoon looking at her photos.
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On Saturday, Margot led the memorial procession
up to Helen’s grave, and we had a moving
ceremony, remembering her and feeling grateful
for her life. We planted a Rowan tree at the head
of the grave, and simple plants like primroses on
the grave. Tim, who had been Helen’s partner for
many years, led us in singing some Woodcraft Folk
songs, and Helen’s niece Lorna and her husband
Steve played recorder music in Helen’s Hut. Back
at Trelay we had a splendid meal, then sat round
an equinox bonfire, remembering Helen and
playing silly games too. A memorable weekend –
many thanks to all who came.
Tim led the singing of the Woodcraft
Folk songs, the same ones that had
been sung at Hugh’s funeral
‘The Envoi’ of the Woodcraft folk
This shall be for a bond between us
That we are of one blood you and I
That we have cried ‘peace to all’
And claimed kinship with every living
thing
That we hate war and sloth and greed
and love fellowship
And we shall go singing to the fashioning
of a new world
‘Link your hands together’
Link your hands together
A circle we make
This bond of our friendship
No power can break
Let’s all sing together
In one mighty throng
If any be weary
We’ll help them along
If any be weary
We’ll help them along
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Helen: accepted as she was by Trelay
I have a very clear memory or Helen sending me a photo of a wheelbarrow full of garlic, picked
during one of her preliminary visits to Trelay and her saying how much she liked it here and wanted
to come again - as she later did, to live.
Then a short while after she moved in my phone rang and I said, “Oh Helen how lovely to hear from
you” and she said, “You won’t love what I am ringing to tell you, the cancer has come back” – and
then she said (she happened to be back in Cambridge at the time) - “I rang Jackie to tell her and
asked if I should still stay at Trelay and Jackie said ‘of course and we will look after you’”.
And you did, and I want to thank Trelay so much.
As most of you know I am sure, Helen had not had an altogether happy life; wonderful happiness
when she held her baby Hugh in her arms, desolation 16 years later when he died. Many other ups
and downs; but I believe that Trelay made it more possible than anywhere else for her to find
herself: ‘to be Helen’ and you supported her utterly in her living and her dying - as she wanted.
This doesn’t mean she was a permanent ray of sunshine; she could be as grumpy and miserable as
anyone but she knew it was ok and that she was accepted; I really wonder if anywhere else outside
one’s family, she could have been cared for when dying as you cared for her; endless trips to Truro
and then acceptance when she said enough is enough; when she wanted to be buried here you said,
“Of course”, and she is buried here in this beautiful place. Just look at the beauty of it! With the
sea she loved in the distance, the countryside below and all the birds she loved flying overhead.
Speech at Helen’s Memorial by Nicolette, mother of Tim, grandmother of Hugh, Helen’s son
I miss you
I miss you
I am finally travelling to Trelay
The home and family you loved so much
But you won’t be there
How is that, instead of you, bejumpered and
smiling, I will be greeted by others who mourn your
loss?
I know you are here. I know you are there. I know
you. I know you flit from loved one to loved one,
busy as a bee, keeping an eye on us
all.
I know you are up to something
bigger, are up to something bigger
too. Perhaps cosmic knitting.
So you are here and you are with me
for always, but I won’t ever get to
hug you again and that just isn’t fair.
I just miss you.
Mae Smith
Written on the 18th March 2015 and
read during Helen’s Memorial
Ceremony on 21st March
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Afterwords
Disposal of Belongings
Large abstract painting – for Trelay, to be put in
the lounge or other shared space, since
everyone seems to love it.
Helen
We are so grateful
for Helen’s financial
legacy to Trelay,
which has so far
helped us to do up,
paint and re-equip
the kitchen and
dining room, and
has given us better
financial security for
the future. Thank
you so much, Helen!
Page 63
Grief in the dark days
Far away the world is singing
As I hide here in my cave
Overhead the birds are winging
As my friend lies in her grave
Dear Helen, we
love you and think
of you often
All around the seeds lie dormant
All the trees stand without leaf
My poor soul is full of torment
As I sit here with my grief
But the moon is rising slowly
Solstice marks the sun’s return
Bringing light so warm and holy
Gentle feelings that won’t burn
In a while will come the springtime
From my cave I will awake
Feeling, healing with a song-line
Loving life for my friend’s sake
Jackie Carpenter
Written in Bude 17th December 2014
Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there; I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning’s hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there; I did not die.
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