Pauline Montgomery Counselling

04/10/2025

One month before turning 95, Patricia Routledge wrote this, she died today aged 96.

“I’ll be turning 95 this coming Monday. When I was younger, I often worried I wasn’t good enough—that I’d never be cast again, that I’d disappoint my mother. But these days begin in peace and end in gratitude.”

In my forties, my life finally began to make sense. Before that, I’d performed steadily—provincial stages, radio plays, West End productions—but felt somewhat lost. I was searching for something within myself, a home I hadn’t yet found.

At 50, I took a television role that many of you would later know me by—Hyacinth Bucket from Keeping Up Appearances. I thought it would just be a minor role, a brief moment. I never expected it to become beloved across the globe. That character taught me to embrace my quirks and quietly healed something deep within me.

At 60, I started learning Italian—not for my career, but simply so I could sing opera in its native tongue. I learned the gentle art of living alone without loneliness, reading poetry aloud each night—not to perfect diction, but to soothe my spirit.

At 70, I returned to Shakespearean theatre, a place I once thought I’d aged out of. This time, there was nothing to prove. I stepped onto those legendary boards with calmness. The audience felt that serenity. I had stopped performing; I was simply being.

At 80, I discovered watercolor painting. I painted flowers from my garden, nostalgic hats from my youth, and faces glimpsed on the London Underground—each painting was a silent memory made tangible.

Now, at 95, I write letters by hand. I’m learning the simple joy of baking rye bread. I still breathe deeply each morning. Laughter remains precious, though I no longer feel the need to make others laugh. Quietness is sweeter than ever.

I’m writing this today to share something simple and true:

Growing older isn’t a final act—it can be life’s most exquisite chapter if you allow yourself to bloom once more.

Let the years ahead be your treasure years.
You don’t have to be perfect, famous, or adored.
You only need to be present—fully—for the life that’s yours.

With warmth and gentle love,
— Patricia Routledge

RIP

01/10/2025

21/09/2025

THE COURAGE TO PAUSE

For many people, “just keep going” is the mantra of life.

Keep busy. Keep moving. Stay productive.

Never stop long enough… to feel.

Because if you keep running, the grief can’t catch you. The rage can’t surface. The loneliness doesn’t have time to break through.

“Busyness” becomes a shield for unhealed trauma - a way of convincing yourself you’re fine, productive, even successful.

But beneath the surface, the nervous system is on overdrive. There’s no room for intimacy, no time for deep reflection, no space for vulnerability. No space for life.

It looks like strength, but it’s avoidance.

It looks like productivity, but it’s really fear in disguise.

And eventually, the truth breaks through the mask: through burnout, mental or physical breakdown, conflict, chronic illness, loss, or some crisis that forces you to STOP.

Sometimes, the real courage isn’t to keep going.
Sometimes, the real courage is to stop.
To breathe. To feel.
To face what you’ve been running from.

To risk the holy mess… of intimacy and deep reflection.

To tell the truth of your life.

- Jeff Foster

30/07/2025

Life won’t ever be perfectly neat. It comes with losses, disappointments, and setbacks. But even in that mess, you’re meant to live with purpose and intention.

Feeling powerless is often a sign your boundaries need work. When you tolerate too much or let others steer your life, that’s when things spin out of control. Healthy boundaries aren’t walls — they’re gates that guard what matters. Build them well, enforce them kindly, and you’ll stand steady no matter the storm.

If you feel like the mess of life is taking over, what boundaries can you implement, enforce, or strengthen to help you get back on track?