Let patience and failure be bedfellows, for to be a great teacher is also to be a diligent student. To be a great writer is also to be an avid reader. To be a great friend, is to learn to be a friend to ourselves. To be a great whatever, is to be an apprentice to the part of us that longs to grow.  In that longing their will be flaws and detours, errors and mishaps. There will be learning we’ll sometimes call slow and sometimes wonder if we are moving at all. Our patience is in the honouring of the journey ahead and also in gratitude for the path, however wandering, which takes us there.


Robin Wall Kimmerer’s remarkable books of essays, Braiding Sweetgrass has been a balm and buoyancy aid over this last year. Her words, rooted in her deep knowledge of plants  and grounded in her own wisdom tradition of her people-  she is a member of the Citizen Potawatomi Nation- are meditations on reciprocity, gifting, stewardship of the earth, and true love. Her words carry both weight and wonder. Her message is clear: it is time we offer our gifts, in our fullness and in our gratitude, in service to Mother Earth. 

The last lines of her epilogue in the collection have been my constant companion. I read them when doubt and fear start to erode my courage, or when I am beginning to question why I do what I do. They are words I share at the end of each writing workshop I host, and they are words which come with an invitation: to create, with the power of this potent time with us, in return for the privilege of breath: These are those words. My wish is that they may become your companion too. 

‘The moral covenant of reciprocity calls us to honour our responsibility for all we have been given, for all that we have taken. It’s our turn, now long overdue. Let us hold a giveaway for Mother Earth, spread our blankets our for her and pile them high with gifts of our own making. Imagine the books, the paintings, the poems, the clever machines, the compassionate acts, the transcendent ideas, the perfect tools. The fierce defence of all that has been given. Gifts of mind, hands, heart, voice and vision all offered up on behalf of the earth. Whatever our gift, we are called to give it and to dance for the renewal of the world. 

In return for the privilege of breath. 



A Blessing for Work


May your work today be of service, be a prayer, be an offering.

May you express what is seeking expression.

May nourishment fill up the well of longings in hearts near and far.

May you be guided to find the resources you need to bring your vision into form.

And may that vision be a lighthouse, sparking insight to thrive, as nature intended.




To protect the wild outside we must also protect the wild inside.
It is…  the urge to run against the grain; dance until our blood flows to faster; splash paint on open canvasses; swim naked in cold seas; write all night with only the moon as a guide; sit around camp fires letting tales and tears flow; wander the back roads getting lost over and over again; digging our hands deep into fertile soil; stargaze ourselves into nothing but awe; let the poems flow through us, the music and song too; and love with abandon every atom of that oak tree, and every sprig of greening too.
It is all that, to protect the wild. Plus…. it is a refusal to be tamed by forces which will profit from the repression of our expression, creativity, sexuality, diversity, identities and the essence of our humanness; our capacity to imagine and create from there.
And so it is that when we can let the wildness out we can let the wildness in too, until we realise we are all made of the same matter, after all, and we are bound together in this intricate and intimate choreography of wild-life.



It’s not all steady and gentile, the rhythm of our creative tides. We can cross continents before the burst of energy overtakes us. But, as sure as the waves of our inhale and exhale, the waves of creative energy are ever-present. We tend to them by showing up to our craft; we nurture them with our attention; and we tune into them with a willingness to let them transform us too.

For as we create our art by offering our gifts to the world, our art and our gifts also create us. This is the wave of generous reciprocity in cyclical, flowing, action.

How can you nurture trust in your own creative flow today? .



Nature teaches us that smallness and delicacy are intricate to the very fabric of creation. Through the filagree threads of veins and chlorophyll filled cells, life flows. Every healthy eco-system relies on the rightful place of those who take up their position. From the giants of the forest canopy to the microscopic mycelium, every element has a role to play. Wholeness is constituted in parts.

Yet, like so many things out of balance, our social, political, and economic systems have been predicated on the idea of scale, infinite growth and power ‘over’ rather than power ‘with’. One glance at the headlines will tell you how we are going with this. In short: not well.
I think it is time to reclaim the power of small.

Small means using less, buying local. It means looking for solutions in the margins. Small can squeeze into gaps, plug holes, turn quickly, change direction, pivot fast. Small is the handcrafted, the bespoke, the individually tailored, the limited edition. It’s tending to a close network of intimate friends. It’s deep connection. It’s seeing the beauty in the detail. It’s realising that the resources to keep producing in the way that we have been are not infinite. Small is acting on a knowing that we are stronger, together, then focusing our time and attention on where we can best make a difference.

So, if you are feeling ‘small’ today, how might that be a good thing? How can you use it to your advantage? And what might you notice and catalyse from here?

Remember: a small pebble can have a big ripple effect and the beginnings of a garden are in the seeds.



The blank page. One of the most inviting, most intriguing and scariest places I know. Here is where I face myself- the layers of self, the multiplicities, and write myself forward.

It is the place I go to find a pocket of communion with the inner world- the access point to the creative stream, the clarity before intentional action, the place from which the future can grow. It is a re-wiring and re-writing of the story I’m living out. The place of re-invention, of renewal.

When I don’t know where to begin, I ask the page, ‘Who am I today’, and the page responds with the unfolding.

It’s a question I offer to you too. If you are stuck, if you want to begin a journalling practice, or if the blank page is beckoning, you can ask, ‘Who am I today’? And see where the words take you. Then tomorrow, ask again. And the next day, and the next…

As we practice, so we become.

For International Women’s Day

To honour the women, we honour the feminine within us all. It begins with honouring the Great Mother, Mama Earth, Gaia; this singular and magical home of ours, the original birthplace. And it involves honouring the womb: the dark place of possibility and potential deep within; our creative well, where fecundity is a birthright. We honour those who have gone before- the mothers who have lead the way and opened doors, and the mothers of mothers. And we honour the flame of feminine power and voice. 

In this honouring of the feminine, there is acknowledgement of the masculine. The yin and the yang; the need for both within all of us- male and female- to circle the cycle of a whole life. 

Our global systems were built in the main with patriarchal structures- government, business, education, healthcare- linear and hierarchical, with the dominant push power, which unchecked, can repress and negate the feminine. For systemic change to happen- to create systems which are sustainable and dynamic–our systems need also to embody the feminine principles of vulnerability, flexibility, cycles and empathy. They need to capture the fierce creative potential in the womb of our imaginations to vision and actualise new ways of being in the world. We need leadership with compassion at its core, we need fluid and dynamically responsible policies and practices which protect our earth, our collective home. We need to speak of love as a cohesive force—a powerful love which can unite us as fellow citizens of the world. 

So this International Women’s Day, whether you are male or female, or however you choose to express your gender- may we all celebrate the feminine internally, so that the feminine externally may rise with its great power and grace to evolve us to wholeness.

What is the measure of a life well lived?

From my look out spot, some reflections:

What is the measure of a life well lived?

So often we measure our success based on our productivity, output or some external indicator which society places on us. This usually arrives as a ‘should’- ‘I should have more money by now, or more opportunities, or more X. I should be here in my career. I should be doing more’.

But ‘more’ is not an indicator of depth, value or lasting impact.

Instead, what if the measure of a life well lived was the quality of questions we lived into:

Am I learning?

Am I contributing to something which feels larger than myself?

Am I experiencing wonder?

Am I finding myself drawn into conversations which help me see things differently?

Does curiosity tap me on the shoulder and lead me down new paths?

Am I growing?

Does my heart break a little bit every day to crack me open to the real and raw?

Can my being here be a balm to another, and a friend to all beings, now and for the generations to come?


The right questions can lead to the right quests.

Why Write?


Why write? 

It is this strange thing really: letters falling onto blank pages, making words, to make meaning, to communicate this human experience.

Do we find ourselves in the sentences? Or in the pause between sentences?

Do we discover each other there too, not just the outsides of each other, but the inner workings and the tickings of another mind?

Why write?

This for one: the stories we choose to shape, and the stories we choose to share. I think they have a potential beyond the sum of their parts. More than words alone, more than mere sentences, what we can find there is the connective tissue of our humanity; the things that bind us and the things which make our hearts yield to the possibilities in each other. When you share yours, it gives me permission to share mine.

Then there are the daily evocations of our moving through the world. Story is where my ordinary —the making of the coffee, the folding of the sheets, the mending of a torn friendship, the sowing of some seeds — meets your ordinary, but also our extraordinary— that glimmer in an eye, that constellation of experience which makes you who you are. It is where our common humanity rubs shoulders; where I can find out what it is like for you to laugh, or cry, or have your heart broken. But then it is also a way to realise that in your broken is also my open, in your speaking of forgiving is my way to understand forgiveness, and in the telling of your grief, I can take some steps on my own path of healing. Of course, you might also tell a story of a love so great it nearly blows us both apart, then plants us back in hope. I think, ultimately that is the power of stories: when we really let them into the marrow of us, they are redemptive and alchemical, changing the very mould of our beings. We are like rubber bands that way, once expanded there is no going back to our original shape.

So, yes, I write to make sense of things, but I read and listen so as to step outside my own world for a while, and expand my boundaries of understanding. It helps me realise there is always another way of seeing things, and that each story is a pathway deeper into the well of our being here together on this little blue dot called earth, and then a bridge to another life, or another land. Perhaps story is just our fastest way of travelling from here to there. 

Why else?

Well, there is always the beyond. I write as a way of staying in connection to a creative capacity which seems to live just outside the known of me. It is a way to keep that river of undiscovered self in flow and force. Sometimes it feels magical. Sometimes it feels alive. Those sometimes keep me going too.

We all write for our own reasons. The writing itself reveals them to us. That is the beauty of the creative process. It is not the end result which is the gold, it is the engagement in the process itself. It is generative, it is affirmative and it is one of the greatest gifts we can give to ourselves: the gift of honouring our own intrinsic creativity which in turn gives life to who we are to become.

What if the world was fuelled by blank pages, words and the curiosity to see where our story wants to takes us next? And what if we realised our creativity was that very fuel.

I think we’d sense it is time to stoke some fires, gather around, write some tales, then listen.

I’m in. Are you?


Write to Your Truth Coming to Lisbon- 18/ 19th May 2019. 


I can’t wait to be heading to Lisbon to host a weekend ‘Write to Your Truth’ salon. We’ve found an elegant venue right in the heart of the city, there will be glorious food, I hear the weather in May is generally delightful, plus you’ll get to dive into our stories, learn some creative skills, develop your writing practice, and experience the wonder of words. 

Here, Emily – my co-host and I- tell you more.

To book online head on over here.