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Travel

Where was I again, oh there I was, on that path …

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“We delight in the beauty of the butterfly, but rarely admit the changes it has gone through to achieve that beauty.”

Maya Angelou

Hello lovelies!

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about what comes next. When is the next new path going to appear, the one that feels like the right one to plant the seeds. If I was the praying type I’d be praying for the next door to appear. I’m not, instead I’ve been wishing for it. Dear universe, please give me a hint. A clue to find you.

💫🚪💫

Last week while out walking I captured this blog’s accompanying photo. A field of wild flowers, buttercups. I’ve walked these woods for the past 5 springs and never have I ever seen this field in bloom like this. Along my well worn, regularly walked, at times a tad boring path – on this day, this difference caught my attention. My first clue. I knew I’d come back to this picture. There was something about it.

on this day

A field of wild flowers did seem like the perfect postcard to send you from my little corner of Europe. It sparked the idea of this blog transitioning into a postcard for you from europe. An little rhyme to accompany your postcard came to me one night while I was drifting off. A sweet way to share this image.

plenty came to play

and all it wanted to say

was have a beautiful day

Perhaps the beauty of this field planted a seed. Hmm how does this work? Do I plant the seeds for what comes next or are the seeds already planted for me? Is it for me to notice and water them?

I sat with my photo and it’s rhyme a little longer.

Each evening I’ve been hopping into live daily blogs written by pilgrims hiking along the camino. The photos of wildflowers in bloom have been spectacular as have the vibes from the trail in their daily debriefs (daily joy Mel). They are triggering some familiar stirrings in me. The desire to go away and walk, a long walk. Hmm a clue perhaps!?

I’ve a long list of blog posts to write for my new your camino site but something has been holding me back. Blank. Boring. They needed soul, some context. An actual camino. Wouldn’t writing a post about toiletries be more fun if they were actually getting packed! Yes, another clue.

Now I’m confused. ‘It’s the pilgrimage home to Oz I long for though isn’t it’ I thought. And yet that is not on the cards for me right now. My life is here. But where is that damn door that’s going to make these next two years of my life – a life that’s lived like I mean it!? I want more than getting by – I want a fierce, bold, adventurous and wildly lived life. No regrets. No quiet mouse. No timidly shaking under the weight of what if, what might. Uugghh why is reinventing myself so hard right now. Wait, there’s another clue.

The memes say you shouldn’t look back, only forward. I’ve been trying that, but memes I disagree. To move forward sometimes we have to go back. Look back at where we’ve been, who we were, what lit our soul on fire. There the clues to know who you are can be found. I read some of my writing from 2016, yes, now I remember why I’m here. I was also scrolling my instagram today looking for a photo for someone. That little online photo album showed me something. It showed me when I was fierce, bold, adventurous and wild and it wasn’t even that long ago. The time when I trusted in who I am and where I was. Wo-ah. BIG clue.

In a conversation with someone recently, they shared an ‘opinion’ of something we should do and right away the penny dropped. I won’t be able to step into abundance again if I carry these ever so frequently shared scarcity based opinions. I can’t do it the way other people do it. I.Never.Have. Clue.

My mind shifted. So many shifts lately it’s actually hard to stay on track. I hope I’m making sense. You see I’ve been heavily weighed down by the ‘family’ project. Where do we need to be? This big transition we’re in, what does it need? And then I’m frustrated because actually right now what we need is to be here. But I’m not here. Not really.

I googled ‘what’s a project for a 50 year old’. I know I need a passion, something that feverishly excites me. I’ve always had one. The long term family project, I can think about it but it’s in the seed stage. It’s not yet something I can act on. But in my reading of camino blogs, my writing archives and my photos I started to remember something, there is a path that is open and waiting…

‘Perhaps I’ll go walk the next stage of the norte camino next week’ I thought. Could I make that happen? No, it’s very costly to do at a whim, time and financially. A dear friend, one whose opinions are of the abundance camp (love you Gen) suggested last week that I pop on the train and pick up my ‘Home to Rome’ walk again. A seed not a clue.

Last weekend we were in Maastricht for a weekend of hiking and camping. I came home fully alive from being in those hills. My favourite part of The Netherlands I declared. And you know the last place where I left off from my Home to Rome pilgrimage? Yep, Maastricht. A clue or a seed? You choose.

My next google search was Maastricht to Belgium hiking and wouldn’t you know it … there’s a pilgrim path that leaves Maastricht to Namur. Via monsana it’s called and it hooks up with more pilgrim paths. Paths that lead to via francigena which is the path that will ultimately take me to Rome.

So there you are! Lots of little clues leading me back to my ‘Home to Rome’ project. A project to take me forward. And it doesn’t feel like the past because it’s a new trail, just one I’m picking up from where I left off. Maybe I don’t need to reinvent myself. I just need to find myself again, to pick up where I left off and to work out how to future proof myself because life is changing! As it does.

So sometime next week, hopefully your postcard will come from via monsana!

Till then BIG love,

Fran xx

Here’s another postcard snap from one of my walks! In the past these sorts of shots were a daily occurrence for me. How sweet it is to take a beautiful photo.

Life, writing

That feeling of coming home, know it?

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“The best way to change the world is in concentric circles: start with yourself and work your way out from there.”

James Clear

Hi there!

Well it’s been a minute. How are things with you? It has been all sorts busy here. Still we await the arrival of the northern hemisphere’s spring season, as in really arrive and not disappear again tomorrow! The winter has been long, the busy has been good and oh my gosh this is my first post for the year! And.It.Is.May.Already. There’s been learning, trying new things and settling into life as I chill my nervous system.

Learning by living is my modus operandi, so when I am quiet in these times and sharing less, never fear. I’m simply off being human and growing with that experience. It’s nice though to feel ready to come home and to begin to grow something with words. To once again write to you from a sturdy place. There’s so much to talk about!

Hey, so, I know we aren’t really talking about the C time and I know we all experienced that time differently, but during my deep dive into being human I had to think about how the pandemic affected me. It’s not the first time I’ve had to face some really tough feelings but it was probably the hardest.

It wasn’t the actual pandemic time that was hard for me. It was more so the years after. Specifically, this notion of simply returning to life that’s a ‘new normal’, one that doesn’t accommodate for changes. It is not quite ridiculous to expect to simply go back to being the same with a new tag?! I mean let’s be honest … who is the same two years on, ever. Even without a pandemic – things, life changes. When I look back at the amount of change in my usually quiet life I feel a great deal of sympathy for my nervous system, no wonder it got itself stuck in survival mode.

My family of little kids, those kids who danced behind the pide piper when she (me) played the next tune went and grew up. Really grew, the buggers. Two became fully fledged teens and boy that was something I did not have a manual or a script for. It’s taken some trial and error. After being locked out of our home country during the pandemic, the connection with our ozzie’ness shifted and this happened differently for all of us. Our parents downsized, aged and our old life at ‘home’ felt like it lost its roots.

We renovated a house (ha never again, ever). Th challenge aside from the actual living in a building site was that as someone who keeps it small and prefers the company of kind, interesting, honest, pay it forward types and a lot of quiet space was that I had to live with builders in that space everyday. Builders who regularly took the piss, lied and instead of 6, took 18 months. Oh and then there is the peri menopause, yep that hit at the same time. JESUS that peri – it took my energy, brain, confidence and what resilience I had left. Lol and they’re just the big things!

The good news is that I have found peace with all the change. Time is a great healer, yes, this is true … but also it is what you do in the time that heals. There has been plenty of sitting in my shit. A bit, hmm maybe a lot of woe is me. But, maybe this is necessary sometimes. Some time to feel sad for yourself, or to feel your sadness so you can uncover what it is you are really sad about and what you need. I am glad for it. Obviously, it isn’t fun but to accept change, but to step out of the flight, fight, fawn or freeze response it felt necessary. To me, this is self love. To love yourself enough to give yourself the grace to not be ok when you’re not, to give yourself and those around you compassion, to accept being imperfect and the imperfections of others, humaness. To recognise where and who you are and to be ok with that.

Anyways, that’s just a little of where I’ve been. If you’re interested in where the peace came from well a number of ways. I talk to someone. She helped me rip off a few bandaids. Under those bandaids were some wounds that I needed to give air to. We all know wounds heal better when exposed (if ready). I realised some of my teenage wounds were causing me to react rather than to respond to my own teens. Flight/fight. My catholic upbringing, schooling and life experiences still have some real impacts on me – fawn/freeze (don’t be seen). In survival mode it felt boundless and just as a river can’t flow without banks I couldn’t find my flow without boundaries which explained the bewildered state.

Anyways, from the chats I began thinking about how to step out of the fear mode I was existing in and how I could settle my nervous system. Diet came next. I was eating for survival. My gut health needed some love and based on tests – gluten, sugar and dairy are gone for now. I feel better. I gave up alcohol in favour of special occasions but kept coffee, I drink a lot of hot water and herb tea too. it’s not easy and these changes are a work in progress.

On a whim I picked up and read a book (this book) and honestly it changed my life. Peri/menopause is a feminist issue and we need to talk about it. I started HRT and that is something I never thought I would ever do. I have learnt that as women we are completely gaslit when it comes to our hormones and what this change means. We cannot rely on all caregivers to provide accurate, evidence based, individual information. An oestrogen deficiency played havoc with my body just as a thyroxine or insulin issues can for some. Those oestrogen receptors that live from my head down to my toes are now dancing with happiness to be awake. My energy has returned and the brain fog has disappeared. So now I can move, hot yoga, cycling and walking (always walking) are my things right now.

There is no magic bullet in my story here, just a few different paths I took to try to find my way through to post pandemic ‘new normal’. The gem for me was to learn that I can’t do what I’ve always done to cope and what that meant for me in terms of action. I couldn’t run/hike my way through it – injuries. I couldn’t write my way out of it – brain fog. I couldn’t eat my way out of it – health consequences, I couldn’t do something new (study) or adventurous (plan a move) – no energy. I simply had to sit still and move slowly and be open to and accept new things. I am not there yet but I am better for it. I need to give weight to all the puzzle pieces.

So, new things. Well, yes. As you all know I’m a little bit of a gypsy soul and I like need some excitement … some sweet synchronicity, some of those oh-wow-what-a-coincidence type moments and really I just need to find and hang out with my people. The ones get that about me, about life and that keep it interesting. Writing has always been such a beautiful doorway for me to stay connected with and to find the finest of kindreds. I started a new blog and gosh I’m excited (and nervous) to be in this space.

Your Camino

It is something different for me. This current blog you may remember started as the fundraiser for my first camino and it’s veered off is so many directions I don’t know what it is anymore! It is boundless. Of course that is ok. But like the river needs its banks, I want to do something that is in flow so I need boundaries, banks. I need to create something with direction. Already in the short time I’ve been playing over on your camino I’ve had some sweet interactions. I’ve felt a shift in what my mind thinks about and where it goes, my step and I’ve felt that feeling of ‘good’ fear. Like I am actually doing something that scares me a little. I like that I can connect people.

It feels time to challenge myself and see what I am capable of in this time. With commitment, the work of that feels doable. There are of course many sites dedicated to the camino, and yes there’s that shadow part of me that thinks and says ‘how do I fit with those, how can I compete, what if you fail’? But you know, I am tired of wondering about that, and it’s not a competition. So, I am creating my own unique space dedicated to camino walking, not trying to fit in. I am just going to write my stories and walk my walk, write to connect people and that alone feels like success.

I wanted to write this open the conversation about ‘new normal’ and change because it feels important, how are you with yours? And I am thinking a bit about this blog and I think perhaps this will become a letter about life here or maybe it will disappear. We shall see what flow says. We did have a beautiful weekend away last weekend in the fabulous south where the wildflowers are in bloom and there are hills. Hills in the flatlands, yes it’s true, they really exist. I am out of time and page space so I’ll share that with you next time.

With much love and grace,

Fran xx

Sneak peak from next week … the wildflowers

Adventure, Food, Life, poetry, Travel

A visit to the Tuscan Heart, Florence

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Another day and another trip away from the Tuscan villa a.k.a. the bolthole. Today it was into the beating heart of Tuscany and the birthplace of the renaissance, Florence. Also the home of Michelangelo’s ‘David’, Botticelli’s ‘The Birth of Venus’ and da Vinci’s ‘Annunciation’. I may need to get this out early in case I disappoint you. We went to Florence on this day and we didn’t visit any of these! No. Nessuna. Nienta.  But don’t worry I’ve seen them before … twice. On this day we simply wandered, ate and breathed in Florence.

You may see a theme evolving in our Italian trip. Food. And gelato. And contented smiles. Italians have worked it out you see. They know that pleasure and happiness is tied to enjoying the simple pleasures of life. Convivial times and food that comes from close to home and is cooked traditionally, simply and with heart. And of course they are fortunate in that everywhere they wander there is art in all its forms. From the architecture to the vineyards, Italy is purely romantic poetry for the soul. It is hard not to be in love with every second in Italy.

The Pizza Della Signoria, the Florence Cathedral and Ponte Vecchio all relatively empty. I have never experienced Florence in this way. Florence is so mind blowing of course it doesn’t matter who you share it with, but on this quiet day I took some very long, very deep breaths. I also ran into an Aussie friend on the Ponte Vecchio. Right now the world doesn’t feel small but in this magical brief moment of coincidence the world again felt small.

I danced with love today in Florence. For those of you who know us and me you will know Italy lives in our hearts and home. (Complete with the pizza oven.) Even writing here now I feel my heart flutter with a yearning. Perhaps it is curiosity. If I was 20 I’d take a year in Italy. I didn’t know of the possibilities then. I don’t want to lose this feeling. I’m nervous about when I return. Home to Holland where the food can’t be compared, where the cities, language, culture and landscape don’t captivate my spirit in this way! Where I’ll again be confronted with the realities of the current state of the world.

‘As you move through this life and this world you change things slightly, you leave marks behind, however small. And in return, life – and travel – leaves marks on you.’ – Anthony Bourdain.

I feel the familiar stirrings of change. Of considering what needs to stay and what needs to be let go. Of missing what’s familiar and still craving what’s exciting. Of knowing I still have many chapters to write in this story of my life. That there is some stagnation inside that needs to be broken down so the flow of creativity and curiosity (the life blood) can be free. The marks of travel – the reminders, the peeling back.

Florence lives in us now. And also on one of our dining room walls. In the form of a little piece of Tuscan inspired art, bought on the street from an artist. After this day in Florence my eight year old declared ‘this is my favourite city in the world’. His siblings agreed. My job is done ;) Perhaps I won’t take them to Florence again. It seems a nice way to leave it for them to remember. I will of course come back. Maybe I’ll hike in one day. I’d particularly like to see the Botticelli again and breath in the Florence air. Dreaming is of course my air, my lungs are full. Full of Florence magic.

Hiking, Travel

Walking Through The Tuscan Hills.

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Many years ago, perhaps 16 or so we traveled through Italy with our then six month old baby boy. He’s our nearly 16 yo delightful lad now! We stopped a few days in Tuscany during this Italy trip with the baby and stayed at an old villa with big Tuscan style rooms and a shared kitchen. In this shared kitchen we met walkers! Walkers of all ages who’d spent their days wandering the hills of Tuscany. Their nights were spent stopping along the way in these shared style accommodation guest houses eating and chattering.

Our villa is along the way of a walk called Via di Francesco. Also we’re right by the town of Poppi. This is funny to my family as pop is my childhood nickname. Pop is the Dutch for doll. My dad called me poppi! Dolly. You do know I like a coincidence. :)

Most days I walk to the right of my front door and head up the hill. I’m drawn to a good climb. On this day, however, I went left. Left in the fierce heat (with water and a visor) to see what I could see. In search of, and open to the treasure. There is always trasure.

Each step in the heat blissfully rewarded with wildflowers, farmland, nature and peace. The kind of peace walking allows you in its gentle rhythmic, meditative way. Yes I could feel those mozzie bites (all 500 of them), and yeah it was hot and sweaty, and yes a bit of hmm I wandering alone in a far away land, but also just the beauty of the trail and me.

‘Solvitur Ambulando – It Is Solved By Walking.’

Remember this one friends. It’s one of my favourites. And one I think can help us in these crazy times. Walking creates the space to wonder. Space to flip the circuit if we’re stuck in thoughts. It’s an invitation to notice the happenings of the season, the time. It’s a way for our minds to gently process on its own in the background, while we can be lost in the world of ‘doing the noticing’.

On this day I did realise how much I do love to walk these long walks across countries. I would like to make time for these when the time allows us again. A long camino is not in my life space/timing right now. But days, possibly a week here and there, yes. I would definitely love to do some walking across Tuscany.

I’d like to do it with a friend I’ve decided. I’ll be seeking the ‘hers’ who love to hike when I return. I’d like to be one of those walkers who arrives at a guest house after a day’s wandering and debriefing the fun, laughing at the challenges and eating the local food. When I find her, I’ll be asking ‘her’ if she’d like to go for some days of walking through hills. I think in these times we need to know our ‘hers’ ladies. And we do need to walk with ‘her’, so do ask her if you need a walk or talk.

#stillwriting

#beenadventuring

#beenexploring

#catchingup

Adventure, Life, Travel

Magic And Mermaids.

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The most beautiful thing about holidays is the freedom to dream. Whether it’s at home or away. The escape from all the ‘real’ life distractions that opens the space for our imagination to run free. Isn’t the endless summer of childhood the most magical time.

An escape from the noise (and the desire to save and understand the world in her case) that allows the opening of a kind of mystical place where girls (and boys) can dream of things, perhaps of becoming mermaids. And the wonder of the summer season that allows the play in a setting which can indulge such fantasies. 

A time to light candles and brew the moon water required to perform the spells to find their tails. Is it the time they’ve been spending in the water, the freedom they have to cycle to this big new free world of theirs, or simply finding the friend who dreams with you that allows such wonderful indulging in dreaming, in feeling imaginative and very real joy?

Today I don’t doubt my parenting. I don’t doubt my belief in taking kids off grid, in giving them freedom to get out of their (my) comfort zone in nature. Kids often know their limits better than adults. My job has been to ensure the skills and boundaries are there to be safe and to create a life experience that encourages the freedom to play and dream. I’ve always known how important it is for all of them, but particularly one of them to know this world of escape exists.

#writingstreak

#day23/31

#atransitionday

#wemaytakeadrivesouth

#wherethemountainsmeetthesea

#wherethefarmersgrowtheolives

#wherethekidscanswiminmountainstreams