Community Starts Closer than You Think

What do you do to be involved in the community?

People often (wrongly) assume community involvement has to mean standing on a stage in front of the local press with a giant cheque, organising massive events, or constantly shouting about “making a difference.”

Truth is, I think it usually starts much smaller than that.

For me, one of the biggest things I try to do is support local businesses whenever I can. Independent cafés, market traders, small shops, local creatives — the people who put their heart and soul into what they do. 

Places with character. Places with stories. The sort of places that still remember your name when you walk through the door. That sense of community and connection is something I value deeply, and it’s something I’ve written about before when talking about places like the market in Totnes and the small family-run cafe culture I love so much. 

I shop local because I genuinely believe communities survive through the people willing to invest back into them.

And because I have a platform through my writing and social media, I also try to publicly promote local businesses, markets, events, and good people doing good things. Sometimes all it takes is sharing a post, recommending somewhere to others, or encouraging people to support independent traders instead of automatically heading to the big chains. Small gestures matter more than people realise.

The other side of my community involvement is a little quieter.

I’m a member of a fraternal organisation — Freemasonry — and while it’s often misunderstood, one of the biggest parts of it is charity and supporting local causes. Over the years, we’ve helped raise money for community groups, local charities, and people who simply needed a hand when life became difficult. 

It isn’t something I talk about constantly, because I’ve never believed charity should be performative, but it’s something I’m proud to be part of. The sense of brotherhood, mutual support, and community responsibility genuinely means a lot to me.

At the end of the day, community involvement doesn’t always have to be loud.

Sometimes it’s supporting the local café instead of the (tax avoiding) multinational.

Sometimes it’s sharing someone’s business page because you know they’re struggling.

Sometimes it’s quietly raising money behind the scenes for people who need it most.

And sometimes it’s simply showing up consistently for the place and people around you.

That’s enough.

Stay Safe

Bc

The Day I’d Swap Everything… for Giraffes

What’s a job you would like to do for just one day?

Funny question, that.

Because my first instinct is to say something sensible, something practical. Something that sounds like it belongs on a CV rather than in a silly daydream.

But if there’s one thing I’ve learnt from scribbling my way through life, it’s that the honest answers are rarely the sensible ones. 

So here it is—

If I could do any job for just one day… I’d spend it looking after giraffes.

Not for the glamour (I imagine there isn’t much when you’re elbow-deep in hay and whatever else comes with the territory), but for the quiet of it. The kind of quiet you only really get when you’re stood beside something that doesn’t rush, doesn’t shout, doesn’t demand explanations.

Just… exists.

There’s something about the idea of it that feels right.

Feeding them, watching those impossibly long necks sway as they move, seeing the world from a slightly different height—literally and otherwise. No emails. No noise. No rushing about trying to keep up with everything.

Just you, a creature that couldn’t care less about your worries, and a moment that asks nothing of you except that you’re there.

And maybe that’s the point.

Not the giraffes, really—though I wouldn’t complain—but the stillness. The stepping outside of your own head for a while.

Because sometimes, the best job in the world… is just one that lets you breathe a little.

Stay safe
Bc

Comfort Over Labels

What are your favorite brands and why?

Pull up a chair, grab a coffee… and let’s have a little natter about brands.

Not the flashy, billboard-plastered, “look at me” kind of brands.
Not the must have ones that shout the loudest or charge the earth.

Because if there’s one thing I’ve learnt while muddling my way through life, it’s this:

Comfort beats style. Every. Single. Time.


The Truth About “Favourite Brands”

I’ve been asked before—what’s your favourite brand?

And the honest answer?

I don’t really have one.

Never have.

Never really felt the need for one either.

You see, I’ve never been one for chasing labels or trying to keep up with whatever’s currently strutting its stuff in shop windows. Life’s complicated enough without worrying whether your T-shirt has the “right” name stitched into it.

Give me something that fits well, feels right, and doesn’t make me itch, tug, or regret my life choices halfway through the day… and I’m happy.

Because when you’re comfortable, you’re not thinking about what you’re wearing.

And when you’re not thinking about what you’re wearing… you can just get on with living.


That Said… There Is One That Keeps Turning Up

Now, I did say I don’t really have a favourite.

But if I’m being honest (and I try to be, even when it ruins a good dramatic build-up), there is one that seems to sneak its way into my wardrobe more often than not…

Zoo York T-shirts.

Not because they’re trendy.
Not because they make some grand statement.

Just because… they’re comfortable.

Simple as that.

They sit right.
They feel right.
They don’t try too hard.

And there’s something I quite like about that.


It’s Never Really Been About the Brand

If you’ve spent any time here before, you’ll know I’m not overly fussed about appearances. Never really have been. 

Jeans, a T-shirt, and something on my feet that doesn’t complain more than I do—that’s about as complicated as it gets.

Because the older I get, the more I realise…

It’s not about looking the part.
It’s about feeling alright in your own skin.


Final Thought (Before the Tea Goes Cold)

So no… I don’t have a favourite brand.

Just a preference for comfort, a soft spot for a decent T-shirt, and a quiet appreciation for anything that doesn’t make life more awkward than it already is.

If it happens to say Zoo York on the front?

Fair enough.

If it doesn’t?

Also fair enough.

Because at the end of the day…
it’s just a T-shirt.

Stay safe,
Bc

Poetry isn’t Supposed to Behave

List the people you admire and look to for advice…

When people ask “who do you admire?” they’re usually expecting something neat, polished, maybe even a little bit safe.

Those who know me, know that’s never really been my style.


I don’t look up to people who make things tidy.

I look up to the ones who make things real.

The ones who stand on a stage, or behind a mic, or in front of a page… and bleed a little truth into the room.

The kind of truth that doesn’t sit comfortably.

The kind that makes you shift in your seat.

Or nod a little too hard because, yeah… you’ve felt that too.


For me, that’s people like Kyle Tran Myhre — better known as Guante.

There’s a sharpness to his work. Not just clever for the sake of it, but purposeful. Words aimed like arrows at the things that need questioning. Systems. Assumptions. The quiet nonsense we’re all taught to accept.

He doesn’t just write poetry.

He uses it.

And that matters.


Then there’s Neil Hilborn.

If you’ve ever heard him perform, you’ll know what I mean when I say it doesn’t feel like performance.

It feels like confession.

Messy. Honest. Unfiltered in a way that most people spend their entire lives trying to avoid.

He showed me that poetry doesn’t have to wear a suit and tie.

It can sit on the floor, back against the wall, saying the things you’re not supposed to say out loud.


And Rudy Francisco…

There’s a rhythm to his words that pulls you in before you even realise it. But underneath that rhythm is something deeper.

Compassion. Anger. Humanity laid bare.

The kind of poetry that doesn’t just want to be heard…

It wants to change something.


And that’s the thread that ties them all together for me.

They taught me that poetry doesn’t have to be:

Polite.
Stuffy.
Or locked away behind big words and bigger egos.

It can be angry.

It can be passionate.

It can be messy as hell.


More than that…

They taught me it can be useful.

Not in the “tick a box” kind of way.

But in the way that it can raise awareness. Start conversations. Shine a light into places people would rather keep dark.

The kind of poetry that says:

“Look at this.
Listen to this.
This matters.”


And if there’s one thing I’ve learned from watching, reading, and listening to voices like theirs…

It’s this:

Words don’t have to be perfect to mean something.

They just have to be honest enough to land.


Still scribbling.
Still learning.
Still trying to say something that matters.

Stay safe,
Bc

No Vote, No Voice

Do you vote in political elections?

Voting.

Now I’m not going to dress this up in political jargon or start throwing party names about. That’s not what this is. If you’ve spent any time reading my ramblings, you’ll know I’m more interested in the human side of things — the bits that actually matter when the noise dies down.

So…

Do I vote in political elections?

Yeah.

I do.

Every single chance I get.


And here’s why.

People fought for that right.

Not metaphorically. Not in some “strongly worded letter” kind of way.

I’m talking real fights. Real sacrifice. Real people who stood up, got knocked down, locked up, and in some cases… never made it home.

All so that you and I can walk into a polling station, put a mark on a bit of paper, and have our say.

That’s not a small thing.

That’s not something you shrug off because it’s raining or because “they’re all the same anyway.”

That’s something people paid for.


Now here’s the part that might ruffle a few feathers…

If you don’t vote…

What exactly are you complaining about?

Seriously.

You can’t sit on the sidelines, opt out entirely, and then shout at the scoreboard like you were part of the game.

It doesn’t work like that.

You don’t have to like every option on the table — most of the time, none of them are perfect. Life isn’t neat like that. But having a voice, even an imperfect one, still matters more than having none at all.


Look, I get it.

It can feel pointless.

Like one vote doesn’t make a difference.

Like the whole thing’s already decided before you even lace your boots.

But if everyone thought like that, nothing would ever change. Ever.

And history — the real kind, not the polished textbook version — shows us exactly what happens when people stop engaging.


So yeah… I vote.

Not because I think it fixes everything.

Not because I trust every smiling face on a poster.

But because I respect the fact that I can.

Because others couldn’t.

Because others died trying to make sure I could.

And because if I’m going to have an opinion about how things are run…


Simple as that.

Stay safe.

Bc

North Star

What gives you direction in life?

Life doesn’t come with a map. No neat lines, no tidy directions, and certainly no guarantees it’ll all make sense when you look back on it. It’s messy, unpredictable, and more often than not… completely off-script. 

I’ve spent years trying to figure it out—through the noise, the chaos, the dark places you can’t point to on any map but know all too well when you’re there. 

And somewhere along the way, I realised something.

Direction doesn’t always come from plans or big ideas.

Sometimes… it comes from a person.

For me?

It’s Mrs Bob.

My co-pilot. My constant. The one who keeps me steady when the world tilts a bit too far off balance. The one who believes in me when I’m not quite managing it myself. 

Not in some made for Disney fairy-tale, everything’s-perfect kind of way.

Just real.

Quiet.

Unshakeable.

She’s my north star.

And truth be told… that’s more than enough.

Stay safe

Bc

One Rule to Rule Them All

Do you have a quote you live your life by or think of often?

This one’s simple.

No grand philosophy.
No dusty old rulebook carved into tablets of stone.
No ten-step programme to becoming a “better person.”

Just one line.

One rule.

One thing I try—try being the key word—to keep in the back of my mind as I bumble my way through life:

Don’t be a dick.

That’s it.


Now, before anyone starts looking for deeper meaning hidden between the lines… there isn’t one.

And yet—there absolutely is.

Because the older I get, the more I realise life doesn’t really need complicating. It’s already messy enough on its own. We don’t need to pile extra nonsense on top of it. 

People are tired.
People are carrying things you’ll never see.
People are fighting battles they’ll never talk about.

And you?

You get to decide what you add to that.


I’ve spent enough time in my own head—and a fair bit of time in darker places than I’d care to revisit—to know how easy it is to snap, to lash out, to react first and think later. 

Sharp word here.
Short temper there.
A moment of “I’m right and that’s all that matters.”

But here’s the thing…

Being right and being decent aren’t always the same thing.


“Don’t be a dick” isn’t about being perfect.

You’ll still mess up.
You’ll still have bad days.
You’ll still say the wrong thing at the wrong time (usually to the wrong person… funny how that works).

It’s about the pause.

That split second where you choose:

Am I about to make this situation better…
or worse?


It’s choosing not to fire back just because you can.

It’s holding your tongue when your ego’s screaming for airtime.

It’s remembering that not every hill is worth dying on—and not every argument needs winning.

Sometimes the strongest move you can make…

is just not being a dick about it.


No commandments.
No sermons.
No pretending I’ve got it all figured out—because I absolutely don’t.

Just one rule.

Simple.
Practical.
Surprisingly difficult some days.

And if more of us stuck to it?

The world wouldn’t magically fix itself overnight…

…but it might feel a little less heavy to walk through.


Stay safe
Bc