When in doubt, I try to learn from my toddler. He manages to live and breath a kind of freedom and embodiment that I spend more time thinking about than really being. Today, we walked to a local old growth forest we visit most weekends. It is a place that is slowly becoming very special to us. I knew today was different though, with the spring turning in the air and the sense that a portal was open for us because of it, but also that something in me was opening too. Coming back to life – setting intentions.Continue reading “Spring Equinox Practices”
In the latter part of winter, I start to emerge from a period of stillness within myself that this year – above all else – has been mostly unsettling. An eerie stillness of things not being “right” – an imbalance. Grief, is the word that comes to me most often. It comes as I grieve the death of friends. Of mothers. Of women all over this planet and of the sons, and daughters. Of it all. I find it all too heavy with sadness. I grieve for the forests, and the waters, and for the creatures whose patterns are intricately and infinitely intertwined with ours. This year, more than any other year, I have been consumed with grief. And I believe that this is OK.Continue reading “On Winter, The Crone and The Dark Moon”
My experience of seasonal living has been deepened immensely since living in Fes, and I never realised quite how revolutionary this would be to my body, heart and soul.Continue reading “The Changing of the Seasons in Fes”
These words may have been repeated a thousand times in a thousand different ways, but I’ve only recently really embodied these truths. It is ALL about the process, this life.Continue reading “In Praise of the Process: A Call to Arms”
The Interview Collection
I’m lucky to be surrounded by inspiring friends, and often take for granted that I get to have inspiring conversations on a daily basis.Continue reading “Interview with Hamza: The Ecosystem of Wisdom”
Distilling with Sherifa
It’s an overcast day in March, occasional clouds drizzling soft trills of rain onto the courtyard.
Optimistically, I set the alembic up in a corner, knowing that unless it pours, we’ll be safe under the cedar beamed edges of the open roof.Continue reading “The Boiling Pot: Spirituality and Herbal Distillation”
You can ask the neighbours, they find it funny too.
Baby strapped onto my back (happy as a clam) and shopping trolley in hand, I swing the heavy iron front door closed and roll our way down the hill.
It’s already eleven in the morning because it takes us so long to get out of the house (we have a long breakfast!), and most of the neighbors are already on their way back.Continue reading “How we Shop: An Homage to the Journey”
The path hasn’t always been easy, but it feels like I’m finding the way home now.
I turn the corner into the sun. Down the hill, lemon tree leaning overhead. Her fruit, not yet to be seen. I feel the heat against my skin until suddenly, perfectly, the breeze hits me with a deep inhale of fresh southern air.Continue reading “The Journey Home”