Tag Archives: Women

The Currency Of A Posy.

Hello friends,

Many years ago I read a post where the writer had photographed a little posy of lavender. She had attached it to a farewell card for a friend. It was a sweet, simple story and the little posy imprinted in my mind as possibly the most lovingly, whimsical gift I had ever seen. It was pure heart. I tucked that story away for the future.

A few weeks ago when I found myself back to writing I wasn’t sure what it was I was looking for in these pages. I just knew I needed to be here, to search. Where is it that my voice is most needed? How could this time mean something more than survival? Why was I feeling so conflicted?

Like any journey we take we can’t actually arrive until we do the travel, have the experience, live the story. And just like any of the great journeys or life transitions I’ve personally travelled there are times when you feel sure and times when you’re unsure.

Continue reading The Currency Of A Posy.

The Sweet Spot

How does it look? The sweet spot? The place where there’s a moment exactly as you envisioned? Where you are where you want to be, looking as you want to be, living as you want to be.

Right now I sit. I sit cocooned in a woollen jumper and socks, glasses on, legs tender from having walked a good walk, coffee to the left, water to the right, the scent of incense lingers, the only noise – the gentle tap of these keys. This is one of those moments of sitting in a sweet spot.

Excuse me if I retreat dear friends. If messages go unanswered and birthdays are forgotten. You are not forgotten, no, in fact you are very close. Closer than you realise. It is you who read here, who landed (with) me here. It is your presence and appreciation of what I write, craft, contribute that has kept the flame burning.

Last week, a (new) friend who happens to (newly) follow my instagram asked me if I am writer. YES! Actually – asked me if I am a writer, she liked the posts I’d been writing. ‘I dabble’ I replied. I dabble a lot actually. I have 10’s of 1,000s of words and not a day goes by where a moment doesn’t pass where I think ‘yes, that will slot into the story of that day on the camino’. In my mind the story writes itself far easier than when I start tapping away :)

At a time when the world (IMO) is on the wrong side of the left and right scale I need to use what I know with what I have to create something. Something to remind us that joy and freedom is found on the left hand side. The side of nature, calm, kindness and it’s found in the magic of walking with open minds and with each other. This story is what I have got to give and it is where I keep finding myself, writing it. And whatever I do can only be done when it is married to purpose, a greater purpose. Purpose rather than passion drive me.

It seems I discovered my new why.

A long walk.

Its footprints recorded and shared daily. Footprints that delivered a remarkable story of kindness, generosity, inspiration and truth (and love, so much love).

All  captured in a daily blog, journals, scribbled a-ha moments, kind exchanges, photographs, poems and tiny squares.

With enough space (and life practice) between then and now, timing has arrived and it is saying ‘Fran, craft the story’. Oh, and the heron … who just kept showing up until I got it.

Friends, let’s go on a new adventure together. I’m not sure how it is going to look but the papers and notes have all been collated, the space is clear and the gentle ‘tap’ ‘tap’ is the pulse, the north, the cairn, the way.

Buen camino,

Fran xx

 

 

 

 

A Little Whimsy

“You must not ever stop being whimsical. And you must not, ever, give anyone else the responsibility for your life.”― Mary Oliver

Hello!

Do you love a little whimsy? Are you brave enough to embrace your own brand of whimsy? I ask this because sometime whimsy is weird. Well, we (you and I) know it’s not really weird but others may see us as weird if we practice it. And because of that we need to be courageous in our pursuit of whimsy, to ensure our life remains ours.

I am quite partial to whimsy – in the land of ‘feels’ it is a superstar! One of the great wonders.

Here’s a little story of whimsy.

Last week during a chat with a dear friend. A friend who is not afraid of whimsy asked me if I had seen any signs of Autumn. Actually she would have asked me if I’d seen signs of Lammas, the pagan term, because she embraces the rituals associated with seasons. I learn a lot from her. The older I get the more I think the people who connect with nature are the smartest – I gravitate to them.

We should definitely ensure that we seek people in our lives who are not afraid of the power of the universe – the mother. In doing we are reminded to stay curious and to notice … and then we get fierce and protective of said mother – but that’s a whole other story.

Ooops … back to current story!

At that time I thought I hadn’t. We were still in full blown summer. The forest still brilliantly verdant (said friend also taught me that word). The trees coated with their thick coats of luscious green leaves, the wind has not yet cooled and the days are long.

The next day when walking my daily walk and I noticed acorns. Acorns? Could they be a sign of Lammas?  The very first?

I collected a few acorns and returned home. I probably skipped with joy a little. This is probably when whimsy entered the story? Yes, I think it definitely was.

At home a day or so later I googled ‘acorns symbolism’, ‘are acorns a sign of Autumn’? That sort of thing – you know the quest for knowledge type rabbit hole.

And I found a few nuggets:

‘One little acorn, with time, can also be the start of a whole forest of mighty oak trees. Acorns are also considered to be a lucky symbol, representing prosperity, youthfulness, power and spiritual growth.’ I found it here.

And the gold …..

‘Long before acorns were considered good luck, they were associated with magic between two witches. When passing each other in the woods, witches would hand each other acorns to let one another know who they were and that they were safe in one another’s company.

As a good luck symbol, acorns are said to protect one’s health. Carrying an acorn is believed to protect from illnesses, aches, and other pains. If you’re already ill, it is said to speed up the healing process and alleviate any pain.’ I found this here.

Gold because if acorns were associated with witches then I was probably meant to dance with this whimsy a little more. There are too many women in my life talking about witches for me to ignore it! So many.

The next day when I was walking in the woods I collected a pocket full. Ever wondered about the word abundance? How to see it, feel it? I think when you follow whimsy you  may just find the abundance ‘feel’ too.

Yesterday I decided I’d make something with them. I have been wanting to get my sewing machine out and was waiting for a purpose.

Perhaps I could make some little bags and gift some acorns to friends. The ones who I knew would ‘get’ such a gift. I had some beautiful wool I’d bought from an artisan that I could use to make the draw string. Hmmm but the material? To dance with whimsy in this story was to wait not buy. And this is where magic enters the story.

As I unpacked another box in my house (we’ve recently moved) I found a bag that had came with some sheets I’d bought a few years back. These bags are better than plastic for sure but they need to be re-purposed because who puts clean sheets away in a bag?!? Finally a use for the bag. Boom! I could cut it up to make my little gift bags.

And today I did!

I also added a little note and a tea bag. Perhaps the recipient could drink a tea and dream a little whimsy of their own.

There is so much I loved about dancing with whimsy. It is such a beautiful dance partner. You see whimsy is a brilliant ‘feel’ to work/play with – it grows and grows. So easily too once you start cultivating the story and let the magic carry you.

Oh and here’s another layer and perhaps one of my favourites. When I was searching for the sources of the information I’d read I didn’t know the reason acorns were associated between witches. Now I do!

So if I give you one of these bags – you are safe with me friend.

Fran x

Ps If you’re wondering how this contributes to taking responsibility for my life? I am being vulnerable – sharing a story and to special friends (and my daughter) also a gift that’s created with my weirdness, one where I embrace my own version of whimsy. I’m a little free’er as a result. I don’t care if anyone thinks I’m a nutter! Maybe, someone else will embrace their wonderfully weird whimsy and in doing so they too will feel the joy and be unafraid to become warriors for the mother. Unafraid of being under the spell of her magic. She, the keeper of whimsy!

Pps Don’t for a minute think this story is over. Whimsy and magic are a beautiful force for good when you let them fly out into the world.

Ppps For you Janet, have a dance with your love, the full moon is rising right? In lieu of a bag of acorns because I can’t send it through customs :)!

 

 

 

 

 

Create your own magic

Dia dhuit,

As the days become shorter and the air crisper there is a new constant in my days. Di luna. Yes, her majesty – the moon. (ps the clip above provides a good background sound to this post). Now I don’t profess to know much about the moon I rely on others to tell me where she is, what she’s doing and what that means for me. But, I do know this – if you’re looking for something magical to happen in your life you could start there. Start with the moon. Dance in her light. Charge with her energy.

Di Luna, she is there when I wake and long before I go to sleep at night as we move into the darker months here. Her lunar phases unfolding before my eyes week by week as I cycle my children to their evening sport practice. Soon we will also be riding to school under the light of the moon.

The moon – something we can take for granted in our increasingly noisy, blamey, scared entitled plastic world. Glory we can forget to notice … and yet I think we are screaming for the kind of magic the moon gives us. There’s something mystical and soothing about being in the presence of the moon. Wiser, greater and more precious than anything the mall or the memes can sell us. Peace. She can of course be a bit scary in all her glory … asking us to stand honestly in her presence. Honesty isn’t always easy amongst rush, noise and plastic. Unsure? Let the moon guide you – that’s where you’ll find wild adventure and an escape or break from fake. Keep it wild from where we stand 101 friends.

Both the moon and a special moon (knowing) friend have been orbiting in my world the past few years, (there’s a pun for the week for you Annette) and I believe they have been slowly giving me clues to help find magic. A deep magic. As much as I love Harry Potter I know we can’t really shake a wand and make something happen … we need to be a part of making it happen.

Isn’t it wonderful though to be able to drift into fantasy. Fantasy reminds us of the value of magic. Perhaps indulging in fantasy takes us closer to our reality? Perhaps there is more of a fine line between the two than we realise? Magic happens when we bravely step into life seeking to believe there is meaning beyond the rush, noise and the plastic.

I truly believe we can learn about life and ourselves in the company of the moon (all nature really but I’m currently in a moon phase). Along the camino, particularly my last one in September I walked most mornings under the moonlight. It taught me a lot about fear and as scary as it was it was also exhilarating.

This week I took myself out running and misjudged the sunset. Again, I found myself alone in the moonlight. We live in a world where solace is not often sought amongst the seasons nor the elements. We seek only to be comfortable and to control them. And yet every time I loosen my grip, trust what’s uncomfortable and unknown and step into solitude in nature I begin to uncover more of what’s true.

During my run I discovered where the my magic will come from this winter. I’ll be making my own illuminated by the moonlight . Perhaps she’ll help me refine those wild truths my old friend, the courageously daring feeling wind shook up these past few winters.

Ag siúl go maith,

Fran x

PS My first half marathon starts at midnight – yep it’s a night run, ironic that!

Jump aboard if you dare.

Hola Amigo,

I wrote a deep and long winded post this morning. One with lots of layers and words … and it took me hours, my whole morning. The kind of post that tends to be relatable because many of us share similar feelings. But it didn’t feel great writing it and I’m not going to post it. I realised I was actually writing myself an excuse piece. I was telling a story about how I felt about recent situations that have annoyed me. (I used the phrase ‘wounded by words’ in the piece). I was basically blaming rather than facing.

Basically I was blaming the fact that I don’t feel comfortable around a lot of people and it’s in the facing of truth that we find our way past an obstacle. Often the obstacle is staring back at us, you know the person we see in the mirror. That is where the story is.

The reason I write and share, my purpose, has always been to write myself forward and to connect. It’s a kind of reaching for what I need. Perhaps you do it too or maybe you’re into mood boards it’s basically the same, it’s manifesting. So instead of feeling wounded by situations, what’s really bothering me.

It turns out it’s me. Of course, hello mirror. I’m annoying myself. I am the one who is walking into situations and conversations that aren’t me, not away from them. I’m the one who is struggling with motivation and I’m the one who is walking the tightrope between where I want to be and where I am. Eeer I know the view will be breathtaking … when I stop tripping myself up.

Now I have a choice. I can tell myself the same story and find some comfort in projecting the shit that annoys me OR I can tell myself the truth.

JUMP ABOARD IF YOU DARE

Truth.

Always.

It’s how we grow.

Unpack the story.

Be honest.

Deeper.

It’s closer than you think.

What is hard?

Motivation is hard.

Discipline is hard.

Saying no can be hard.

Conflict is hard.

Body changes are hard.

Feeling lonely amongst people is hard.

You know you have this.

It’s within your grasp, if you dare.

Already, you have a plan.

So begin.

Unravel.

Have a bath, drink a litre of water while you’re in there and put on a mud mask. Hormonal face – I’ll soothe you.

Great.

Feels better already.

Decide to write this story (in said bath).

It’s true your hormones are changing.

Age happens.

Transition.

So you NEED to change.

Time to get on a new ride.

The alcohol has gone perhaps it’s time for the coffee too?

Yes, your adrenals need nurturing.

It’s your soul that needs the fire.

It always has.

Share it with your secret keeper.

Make a commitment to yourself.

Recognise how clever you are.

(Going for a massage your first thought would be have amazing but so is a warm bath and a face mask and it’s basically free.)

Excellent.

Now you’re being kind to yourself.

It’s the best place to start.

It’s always about small steps.

Start where you are.

Make one list.

We’ve arrived at the destination.

Now for the transition.

There are new goals ahead for you.

You have already thrown out the anchors.

It’s your turn now.

You are allowed to take up space.

Choose some non-negotiable’s for a week.

Start there.

– When you’re wounded by small talk write a deep long letter to a soul sister and send it. You’ll realise all the things you really want to talk about and say.

– Exercise each day. Endorphins matter. Nature holds the answers for you.

– The coffee, you know it’s got to go. Trust yourself.

– Water, yes more. Two litres minimum a day. 

– Write when you need to reach, write when you have something to say. Write when you need to find the door. Write to offer a door. It’s always your way home.

– Choose wisely who you confide in … they will either ride with you or be the ones who weigh you down.

That’s enough.

It’s time to move.

Change is happening.

Stay close.

Scramble on the ride.

Don’t miss the call.

Now excuse me dear friends, I must go for a walk amongst autumn.

Buen Camino,

Fran x