I’ve been struck in recent years by the lack of care many of us hold for one another. Whether it’s central government continually targeting the most vulnerable in society with their never ending austerity-led cuts or the rampant consumerism that’s overtaking every aspect of our lives, we are fast losing the sense of community upon which we used to rely to help us out in our time of need.

I think as a society we’ve trained ourselves to push past endings as quickly as possible and focus our sights on the new beginnings ahead. Whether it’s the experience of job losses, losing a home, a business, the end of a cherished relationship or long-held dreams, it’s all part of life.

The role of a doula is nothing new. For as long as humans have lived in community, there have been those who quietly and steadfastly walked alongside others through life’s most profound thresholds. Just as every village had a healer or spiritual guide, there were always people, often women, who knew how to tend to a birthing mother, or how to sit with the dying, offering comfort, practical support and a steady presence. These were community roles, passed down through observation, experience and care, rather than through formal qualifications. They belonged to the fabric of daily life, woven into the rhythms of birth, death, and everything in between.

Have you noticed how the concept of connection has gradually become a lost art form since the pandemic? So many of us got used to not leaving the comfort of our homes during those long, uncertain lockdowns; and now, five years on, it seems fewer and fewer people are gathering, sharing, or simply being together in the ways we once took for granted.