Poetry Salon // 4

Screen Shot 2017-12-10 at 12.33.56

Welcome Back!

Delighted to bring you episode 4 of December’s salon. (15 mins)

Today I’m exploring poetry and the body, sharing poems from Kerrie Hardie, Sharon Olds, and once again Mary Oliver- poems which were like lifelines for me during times in my life when I, and my body, needed them the most.

Would love to hear what poems you have turned to? What poems have been your life-raft? What do these poems spark for you?

Enjoy, and happy listening.

Clare xx

You can listen to previous episodes here:

Episode 1: Poetry and the Salon Intro

Episode 2: Poetry and childhood

Episode 3: Poetry as maps

 

Want to stay in touch? Sign up to my newsletter for happenings and more creative resources


Poetry Salon // 3

You can listen to Episode 3 here. 

Screen Shot 2017-12-07 at 17.23.41

Have you ever felt lost, homesick, wondering if you will ever find your way?

Here in this third episode of the poetry salon I explore poetry as a map to help us find our way back to our inner and outer worlds.

Today with the help of encounters with Seamus Heaney, David Whyte and David Wagoner- some a little more literal that I would have liked!

Total running time: 14 mins.

Hope you enjoy and would love to hear what poems have been maps for you over the years.

Clare xx

 

Want to catch up with other episodes: 

Episode One: Poetry as communal act and the introduction of the salon, with poems by Mary Oliver and Rachel Holstead. Listen here 

Episode Two: Poetry as lineage- and a cauldron of childhood memory. With rhymes from my Nana, a poem from my Dad, and a poem which took me into political awareness. Listen here. 

Want to stay in touch? Sign up to my ‘Notes from the Edge’ for more creative resources and tools for living your one wild life.


Poetry Salon // 2

serbia-8769

 

Next up in the December Poetry Salon- some reminiscences about childhood and our relationship with poetry growing up.. plus a secret confession!

So I invite you to make yourself a cup of tea, pull up a cozy chair and listen inwards…

You can listen in here:  (13 mins)

Hope you enjoy.

Clare xx

Screen Shot 2017-12-04 at 19.17.25

Missed episode one?
You can listen to that again here.


December Poetry Salon // One

poetry-salon-web-image

A little treat in store!

December can be such a whirl – the noise of busyness, the demands of the season.

So, how about treating yourself to 15 minutes of poetry and stories of poems.

Over the course of the month I will be sharing 10 poetry salons with the invitation to pull up a chair,  listen in, and tune into the space and deep questions which the poems may open up inside of you. I really hope you enjoy – it has been such a pleasure to put these together of you. Please feel free to share with others who you think could dose with a dose of poetry at the moment too!

You can listen online now over here:

screen-shot-2017-12-02-at-11-29-02

In today’s salon I am sharing poems from Mary Oliver and Rachel Holstead

I’ll be back in a few more days with the next salon,

Clare xx

 

Want to stay in touch? Sign up to my newsletter for more creative resources and tools for leading your one wild and precious life.


Why I want to write

20-nov-2017-6

 

 

I want to write things that enter into people’s hearts and pump blood in the opposite direction.
I want to write pages that you’ll read backwards just to experience a new way of looking at things.
I want to write stories that take you to the inside of loss and out again, via waterfalls and sometimes rainbows.
I want to write in ways that make politicians get down off their high horses and take note of the sacred ground beneath them.
I want to write so that I can feel the rivers and the mountains inside me and the hollowed out spine of my love.
I want to write about the places I still long to go but may never reach.
I want to write rage into hope, and hope into action, and action into change, and change into the singular understanding that when I breathe out, you breathe in.

And you? Why do you write?


The Power Story // On Writing to the Truth of our Lives

writing-7-nov-22

‘We make our lives bigger or smaller, more expansive or more limited, according to the interpretation of life that is our story. – Christina Baldwin, Storycatcher. 

I have this strong feeling at the moment that tectonic plates are shifting. No, not those actual one, although we can all feel the earth shifting gear, but my own- the geography of identity and the geography of how I place myself in the world. What I thought were big solid chunks of me have been crumbling, like clay, and what remains feels raw and exposed.

I’m not complaining; it’s about time, and on a scale of one to good, I’m definitely at the good end of that right now.

Let me tell you a story.

For the past five months or so I’ve been facing the blank page on a near daily basis, first in my journal and then to the book. The book is still very much a work in progress. I’m 95,000 words in now though and I’m about at the stage where I’ll be doing my first big edit. That’s five months of unearthing the tectonic plates which have formed me, 5 months of having whopper conversations with the layers of my identity, and 5 months of diving into the dark to bring up the pearls. It’s some dive.

Already I can say this with 100% certainty that whatever happens next, if no one ever reads it, if I never write another word of it, the process of writing my story has fundamentally altered me- on a scale of one to good, I’d say remarkably so.

I’d always known this about words and writing and the power of story, but I had never really really fully fully allowed the writing process to change me; like at a DNA level, like at a cellular one.

This may all sound dramatic, for effect, but I kid you not, it’s not- I literally feel different in my bones.

So, the story: Well, it’s about my own journey into womanhood, a story which criss-crosses religions, continents, professions, loves and longings. It goes back in time to my great-grandmother and forward to the future generations which are to inherit our collective legacies. It’s a story about the silences we carry and sometimes the shame which gets held somewhere in the marrow of us. It’s also a love letter to the sea. Books can do that you see, have magic potential to travel in space and time and to make meaning. I am finding this all out as I go.

Telling my own story has been the biggest gift I have ever given to myself – by far.  It’s to do with my mother. 

The writing of the book has given me permission, in a way, to ask my mother questions I would not have asked otherwise. In doing so we are each getting to know each other better, and deeper, and so in a way the book has already given me the gift of my actual mother- not the mother of the stories I had made up in my head, but the mother who is filled with love and who has always been there. It’s beyond scale.  And I will be forever grateful for the book for this.

But as tectonic plates shift, there is a natural churning and turning, and episodic outbreaks of turbulence. I’ve cried tears which I’ve held on to for years, I’ve released shame which was buried so deep I mistook it for my identity and I’ve shed layers and layers of stories which are no longer serving me. There is more to do, but by God, I knew writing was powerful but I did not realise just how powerful it can be, if we let it.

So, yes, the tectonic plates are shifting. I’m entering into a new decade of my life next year, which seems significant. I know that how I am going to be showing up in the world will be different, and what I put out into the world will be different but it is not yet formed, and I can tell you this friends, that scares the tiddlywinks out of me, so much so that some days I don’t want to get out from under the covers and definitely not come out to play.

For many of you who have been following my own journey for some time now, even as far back as the ‘One Wild Life’ book (*hello, and thank you), you’ll know that my path, particularly my career path, has shifted and changed route so many times it would make even a signpost dizzy, but I warn you, it is changing track again. I’ve a sense of it forming- likely to do with helping other people birth their books, and it is do with listening to the landscape (internal and external) for our own maps. I’m walking into that slowly… I have a big roll of white paper out tonight, scrawled with ideas, but the full story is just not their yet and (to drag the cliche out a bit longer), the next chapter is not quite ready to emerge. So yes, scary as scary, but trust is trust, and I am learning more and more to lean into that; so on a scale of scary to trust, I’m tipping the balance to trust right now, just.

So, I suppose I wanted to share these words with you tonight to say that things will be changing around here, but I am not exactly sure in what ways yet, or when, but yes, changing.

And I wanted to say, if you are thinking of writing your story- do it- because on a scale of one to certain I am beyond certain that it will change you.

So, until soon,

With love from the wild edge, on this Friday evening, beside a crackling fire, with Milly by my side as I am about to dive into a plate of roast vegetable and particularly the roast potatoes, so on a scale of one to bliss, it is definitely bliss.

Clare. xx

 

Want to stay in touch?

Sign up to my newsletter for ‘Notes on the Edge’ and other creative leadership resources.


The new story to write…

glengarrif-37Pause.

What is the new story you want to write? For yourself? For the world?

I have taken to my journal and working through these exact questions today. Our lives and narratives are constantly shifting which is why returning to these questions is so powerful.

Take a blank page, sit for one minute in silence, set a timer for 5 mins, then write your response without stopping or lifting your pen. Go.

(Ps – the answer is already inside you)

 

..

 

Want to stay in touch? Sign up here for updates, ‘notes from the edge’ and other creativity and leadership resources.


55 ways to get unstuck…

2275178229_c29c3f2536_o

 

Feeling creatively stuck? Here’s 55 quick things you can do to unstick! All in less than 5 mins. GO. 

  1. Doodle.
  2. Write a note to your inner artist.
  3. Write a haiku.
  4. Mimic a bird.
  5. Draw a self portrait in 60 seconds.
  6. Take a photo of an item that inspires you.
  7. Find a new recipe and commit to making it this week.
  8. Write a Limerick.
  9. Tie your shoelaces with your non-dominant hand.
  10. Make a paper airplane.
  11. Dance on the spot to silence for 60 seconds.
  12. Hand write a letter to someone who you admire. Post it.
  13. Describe your favourite colour without using that colour’s name.
  14. Write down a word that you really like the sound of. Sing it.
  15. Rub your head and belly in opposite directions.
  16. Draw the letter ‘A’ in 10 different ways.
  17. If you could circumnavigate the globe, what route would you take?
  18. Sit in silence for 2 minutes and listen to the music of your breath.
  19. Close your eyes. Place your hand on your head and feel the texture of your scalp.
  20. What colour would you be if you were a colour?
  21. Draw your favourite childhood toy.
  22. List 20 uses of a tea pot, other than for tea
  23. Set a timer for 5 minute. Keep writing without stopping until the buzzer sounds.
  24. Write your name with your non-dominant hand.
  25. Take a picture of your feet- what surfaces do they touch?
  26. Sing out loud for 3 minutes. Don’t stop.
  27. Take a picture of the ‘essence’ of something in front of you. What is its real beauty?
  28. Memorise a poem you love.
  29. Draw a picture of snakes and ladders.
  30. Look up: take a picture. What do you notice?
  31. Shake your body for 2 mins. Yes, shake it.
  32. Drink a glass of water from the opposite side.
  33. List your top 5 of your favourite things. Now list them backwards. Now alphabetically. Now backwards alphabetically.
  34. If you could be an animal, what would you be? Make that sound.
  35. Pretend to be rain falling.
  36. Think of the word ‘black’. Now dance the opposite.
  37. Conduct an imaginary orchestra.
  38. Bark like a cow. Moo like a dog.
  39. Draw somebody standing on their head.
  40. Set a timer for 5 min. Invent a board game. Go.
  41. Spell your full name backwards.
  42. Make up an alphabet.
  43. Draw the best slide you could ever imagine sliding down.
  44. Draw a pattern with circles and triangles.
  45. Write down 10 things you used to love to do when you were 10. Do one of those.
  46. Set a timer for 5 mins. Invent a robot. Go.
  47. Mimic a dawn chorus.
  48. List 5 textures you really like.
  49. Think of the word ‘good’. Now sing the opposite.
  50. Invent a new game using a piece of fruit.
  51. Create on paper the best day of your life. Draw the details.
  52. If snakes could draw, what would they draw. Draw that….
  53. Walk backwards in a circle
  54. Use your camera upside down.
  55. Set a timer for 5 mins. Make up your own ‘Get unstuck list’. Go.

Need a bit of extra support? 

I am currently taking creative coaching bookings. The Winter Sessions is open. 3 months to gain momentum and traction on  your creative project. Time to get that book written? Time to finally launch your thing?

Want to stay in touch?

Sign up to my newsletter for more creativity resources, ‘notes from the edge’ and tools for practicing your one wild life.


Wild Swimming and Wild Words

west-cork-oct-8-2017-40

 

 

You can listen to this blog post here:

screen-shot-2017-11-13-at-15-17-52

 

 

 

 

I never saw myself as one of ‘those people’.

‘Those people’ were a different, alien, species. They were the ones with an extra gene to bolster against the Atlantic cold, and, at birth, were born with added doses of bravery and physical stamina. No, I have never been one of ‘those people’

There is a chill in the November air now- not biting cold, but nippier. The wind has a bit of a whip in it too. I look at the sea though and still I hear an invitation: dive in.

Really?

The thought of the cold plunge sends butterflies to my nether regions, followed by nervous energy which could be labelled as ‘fear’ under certain lights and ‘madness’ under others.

I’m not one of the turbo clad wet suit slick swimming elite. I like headstands and handstands and strange yoga twists, sure, but ask me to swim out to sea, in November? That’s for ‘those people’.

I have to make my decision to swim before I leave the house, otherwise the excuses start to accompany me to the shore and prevent my passage. I put on my togs underneath my clothes. On good days I even remember to pack my knickers in my swimming bag, and my courage too.

I check the tides. The tide clock is not even a clock I had really been aware of before, but here I find myself, checking for the swell. High tide in Schull is the best. The water seems richest then, enriched with seaweed minerals and curiously dark, definitely at its most inviting.

Yesterday was calmer, sunny even. I’d seen some of ‘those people’ dive in earlier in the day braving the depths as if their life depended on it. No excuses. The kickers got packed. The togs were already on. Walking to the shore the decision was made. No backing out. No backing out.

And then: the sea. There is something about the water; all glitter and roam, a touch of sparkle and a hint of mischief. The fronds of seaweed were waving, the light dancing as it if was at the best party in town. No excuses.

I strip down to my togs. I nearly slip on the wet stones. I remember the trick: no dawdling, just straight in. Before I have time to think about it, 1-2-3. In the space of a breath I am actually one of ‘those people’ now, swimming wild and into the Atlantic, in November.

The sea will do that to you: break you and remake you all in a breath.

The fear tends to leave as the the water welcomes. The cold embraces every pour but has a touch of unconditional love in it. I have a random thought: If I can do this, become one of ‘those’, well, what else can I do?

Swim by swim, I tell myself. The first step is to become a December swimmer, then a January one. It’s not brave after all, it’s just a becoming, entering into a reinvention of what I thought was possible.

I return home. I make a coffee. I open the blank pages of my journal. I pick up my pen. I dive.

Then I wonder: where will this tide take me? Break me and remake me all in the breath of a page? I have been learning: it’s time to take on these wild words too. Finally.

What is your equivalent of wild swimming? Is it time to take a plunge?

 

Want to stay in touch?

Sign up to my mailing list for monthly “Notes from the Edge” for creative resources, planners and reflections for your own one wild life.


Samhain Ritual :: A practice for contemplation and reflection

samhain-ritual

A little treat for you today, as we move into Samhain.

I had a sense to create a Samhain Ritual, one to help me tune in with this powerful time of year. And so, I stayed up late last night creating a planner and working my own way through the questions. It was a beautiful experience, helping me to appreciate old wise ways of this land of Ireland and the power of reclaiming rituals. Its part of my own quest to live more seasonally and in connection to the cycles which inform our lives.

As I mention in the introduction:

‘In ancient celtic times each year was marked with moments of pause, celebration and ritual. As the modern secular world gets noisier and we are more connected to our devises than each other, the reclamation of these rituals can help us tune into our inner voice, power and wisdom at a time when we need it the most.

So, whether you are craving space in your business life, creative projects or personal relationships these pages will offer questions to help you tap into your own insights and point you towards your deep inner world of intentions and dreams’

The planner is 11 pages, with space for journalling and reflection.

To download sign up to my mailing list

Then you’ll be sent a link to a download page.

Then if you’d like to take this work wider and deeper, the next Living Seasonally Course is starting on 1st Nov. The focus will be on creating practices and plans for the winter months ahead. You can find out more and register online here. 
I hope you enjoy and savour this Samhain ritual

With love and blessings, 

Clare. xx