You are here; Week Thirty Eight

I am migrating to a new co-ordinate on the map - Substack. Welcome.

If you are a regular newsletter reader, there is no need to do anything new, this is simply me writing to you, as I always have but via a different medium. I would love you to stay and nestle in. You can read more about how this space will evolve here.

So why the change? Or rather, addition. I will still be on Instagram, doing my ever evolving Instagram thing. But, Instagram has become short form. And I was craving long form, like the good old days before reels and velocity crashed the party. I have time for that too.. but here feels like steadier waters. Space to take your time. Space to write exactly what I want to write - I really need that.

Life, lately.

I am writing this on the Autumn Equinox. The dark half of the year begins. I make no secret about being solar fuelled. The strange grey cloud summer we’ve had in the UK has left my battery at only 57%. It will be a half year of leaning on solar reserves, like making the best of a poor harvest. Where are my fellow helios fellows? Because (whisper) you can comment here; please do.

This summer has been grey clouded in other ways. My Dad is doing OK and thank you deeply to anyone who has checked in with me. We have a plan of sorts. I have been soaking up his wisdoms about the natural world, about moths, about life. And running like my life depended on it. He handed me his running log last month from his forties, entitled jog log, I would have been eight or nine at the time. All these things now have the power to unravel me. I am coming undone and doing myself back up again often, daily sometimes.

The Half Marathon that was - and is - a fertility recovery run has a lot more symbolism now. We hope my Dad will be there to see me finish. Thirteen point one miles of all of it. So, when my shoelace snagged in the treadmill this week and it chewed up my legs, I cried, uncharacteristically and profusely.

My shins and knees and ankles will heal. And I will cross that line. If you’re around in Manchester on Sunday October 15th fancy coming and cheering me on?

These are the songs that I’ll be making the final cut from gifted from friends, family and ghosts from The Past. Suggestions welcome.

Let’s talk studio happenings. Or rather the absence of them.

I spent a lot of time this summer creating a whole autumn schedule, The Sanctuary.

One morning as I was deep in creation mode, I suddenly knew it wasn’t going to happen. I put it all down. I need sleep a lot at the moment and space to process. I am in love with my one to one work as doula, yoga teacher, meditation guide, business mentor, peri-menopause supporter; that is where I am meant to be this month and next.

On the other side of my run, I will have a new four week space to come and get cosy in and that will begin early in November. It’s called The Settling and I’m already craving holding that space for all who choose to join me. It will be a big old embrace of all the things I love and has been woven as a slow exhale of a journey to soothe, slumber and be.

Things Consumed

Substacks - I’m opening Substack before Instagram as a practice this month. It’s a very different start to the day. I’ll start to build a list of reccs soon.

I’m reading ‘The Wellness Trap’ by Christy Harrison and ‘Trespasses’ by Louise Kennedy, in an endeavour to run a non-fiction alongside a fiction book each month. Neither will be a five star and the jury is out as to whether they’ll rank a four.

Food; this week I have been mostly eating carbs.

Closing Words

If you made it to the end, I love that. I also love it here. I really welcome any ideas about the things you’d like to see here. And always your news. I hope all is well.