Why I practice...

 At our core in an intrinsic knowing- the spine of us, our unique pattern, our individual code, our purpose, our source. Life gives us a zillion fast messages a day telling us who we should be and how we should show up in the world. They sway us from one manufactured desire to another. Our practice helps to strip that back and return us to our core; who we really are, how life is authentically longing to show up through us, and the intention or purpose for this next phase in our lives.Our practices are designed to help us listen below the noise, below the internal chatter- to the vast expanse of silence, and within that silence, to the vast expanse of possibility and promise. When the world turns wobbly, when feeling off-kilter, when the muddle in the head shows up as anger or fear, or anything but trust and love, it’s time to practice: to return to the yoga mat, to the meditation cushion, to the blank page or the blank canvas, or to that thing which brings you into intimate conversation with your inner life force. Our practice is our prayer, our ritual, our return, our saving grace. This is why I practice. And to that I say, ‘Hallelujah, Amen, Thank you’- over and over and over again. 

An invitation to slow...

It felt a bit ironic that I read ‘Slow at Work’ quickly, but the ease in which it reads is part of its charm. Aoife McElwain writes in such an earthy and grounded way that reading her new book is like sitting down beside her in her favourite Fumbally Café as she openly and honestly talks you through her quest to get to core of the often ‘elusive’ concept of ‘Work/Life Balance’.Aoife is a freelancer. For a long time that meant, like so many, running around like a mad thing, chasing deadlines, and juggling multiple projects. Then, one summer, after a bad back injury - induced by too much work and carrying heavy loads, both physically and mentally- she clearly realised the trap she was in: a distinct unbalance modulating her between extreme activity and burnout. And it was taking its toll.Slow at Work, published by Gill, is the result of Aoife’s year long (ish) investigation in this core question, essentially: how to stay sane in an always ‘On’ world. Alongside extensive reading into the topic she interviewed about 100 people from different sectors- wellbeing professionals, coaches, other self employed people, restauranteurs, artist and creatives- gathering insights. Over the year she then experimented with new approaches and tools to actively apply to her personal and professional life and kept a list of her own nuggets of insight and 'aha's' along the way (which she shares at the end of each chapter).Diving into topics ranging from managing our inner critics, procrastination, technology and social media, burnout, energy management and gut instinct, Aoife provides a useful distinction between ‘percolation’ and ‘procrastination’ and a handy approach for getting to know (and tame) your inner critic. There are also plenty of insights into how our working environments, diet and physical activity have an impact on our overall wellbeing, alongside an open conversation about money and also our relationship to social media.It would be tempting to wrap up such a book with the presentation of a ‘Seven Steps to having it all sorted’, kind of list. Refreshingly Aoife instead gives a considered evaluation of the evidence for ‘slow’ in the context of her own life. In that sense ‘Slow at Work’ is not a prescription, more of an invitation. “It turns out you can slow down and keep up’, she writes, ‘it just depends on what your idea of keeping up is”. Like many of the interviewees, Aoife is open and frank about the pitfalls of the entrepreneurial lifestyle- that the promised freedom can come at a high cost unless clear boundaries around time and a very very conscious commitment to wellbeing is applied - with discipline.In our fast paced, ‘always on’ world, it’s reassuring to meet someone life Aoife who is writing so candidly about the perils of ‘ON’. It’s reassuring too that she’s not alone in her quest to switch gear, still do brilliant work and find ways to create flow and freedom. So if you are looking for new ways into considering what ‘keeping up’ means for you, you’ll find a fresh, friendly and honest voice in Aoife. So grab yourself a coffee, turn off the devises, and in finding your way to Aoife’s words you are already finding a way towards your own quest for sane…You can pick up your copy of ‘Slow at Work’ in any good bookshop, as they say, or over on Gill Books website.Happy reading :) And if I have one piece of advice: take your time…..(I was honoured to be one of Aoife’s interviewees in the book, alongside many wonderful Irish voices who I respect and admire. I am also so delighted that Aoife’s work is out in the world in book print form- such a great achievement and a valuable addition to the wellbeing conversation.. well done Aoife! )

More or less?

More or less? Here is a 5 mins writing practice to take us to our real cravings…....Less scrolling, more connectionLess fear, more hopeLess stuff, more spaceLess noise, more storiesLess cynicism, more actionLess doubt, more faithLess shallow, more realLess isolation, more belongingLess milk chocolate, more dark chocolateLess skepticism, more listeningLess bullying, more befriendingLess strangers, more neighboursLess drama, more presenceLess hesitation, more courageLess hate, more love Now over to you: What are you craving less of to have more of? Grab a timer, a blank sheet of paper and a pen. Set the timer for 5 mins. Keeping writing until the timer rings. Go. .. Want to stay in touch? Sign up to my newsletter for more creative practices and tools for creative leadership.

Why I want to write

  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

‘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.