peace

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What Does Your Life Look Like When No One is Watching?

Social media, urgh. Devices, urgh. Sharing every aspect of you life with people you’ve never even met, urgh. Right now, this is 99% of internet life for most people these days.

I’m going to go on a little rant now, about the ‘good old days’ when we didn’t have mobile phones, internet, heck, even cable tv. Yes, I’m GenX. As kids, we lived most of our lives outside, unless there was a thunderstorm or it was colder than -25C. Friends came over to play, and we had in-person conversations and social interactions. It wasn’t abstract, it wasn’t one-step removed from a real personal meeting. And I feel that we are losing that reality at an incredible rate.

Even if, like me, you’re perfectly happy being on your own and social interactions are kept to a bare minimum, there is still so much relationship to be had with the real world, the natural world around you. I’m hardly ever lonely, because there are birds around me, deer, trees, the sea, the forest. But all that is being sacrificed to spend time online in a virtual world where you can’t smell the woodsmoke on the air, feel the wintery sunlight on your face or walk through the dewy grass. And yes, I see the irony of expressing myself with these words you are reading here on my online blog, my voice being carried virtually across continents to people I’ve never met. But just bear with for a few moments longer, if you would.

I love silence. I crave silence. Most of my day is spent in silence, the only sound the birds in the garden and the clacking of the keyboard as I write my books. But then that wonderful silence is broken by having to post on social media, to remain visible, to post content to keep the algorithm going. And yet I often wonder as I feed the beast that is social media, am I being nourished as well?

I am providing content for these platforms, but am I getting anything in return? When it all comes down to it, there is very little return on the investment of my time and effort spent in these places. But we are taught, aren’t we, that we must post, we must share, we must continue to be present in these spaces. It’s one of the greatest illusions of all time.

And we can get caught up in it all, letting it seep into every single moment of every single day. I have to retrain my brain, because every time I see a wonderful sunset, I want to share it with the world. When I go for a walk and see the deer, I whip out my phone to record them, hoping to inspire others with the beauty of nature. But I am missing out on being present in that moment, with the sunset, with the deer, with the world that is trying to interact with me. It’s like going down to the pub with your mate, who is trying to video everything for their own social media. What’s the point? Who does that nourish? Certainly not one’s own self or the person you are with.

It’s the greatest con of all time.

Here’s the question we should be asking ourselves, day in and day out:

What does my life look like, when no one is watching?

Some people might realise that they don’t even have a life that goes undocumented, and they then must create one, which can be an utter joy and a balm for the soul or frightening as hell. Others realise how much of their lives are a complete and utter illusion, and want the real stuff, the good stuff, that which feeds our soul and not the beast.

We have to release ourselves from this need for validation.

As a self-published author I need social media in order to get the word out about my work. But social media does not need me. It’s an imbalanced relationship. Some people might say the same of cats, but they are obviously not cat people.

It’s okay to live a life that is your own, and not shared with the world. I am making a serious effort to reign in the desire, the need, the built-in mode of share, share, share that social media instructs us to do. Because for the most part, it’s not to our benefit. It changes the way we think, the way we behave, and we can completely lose ourselves in the process. And that’s not something I’m willing to do.

So I will be spending less time in a virtual world, hoping to retrain my brain to be with me in this world, where the cat wants to play, the branches on the trees are sparkling in the sunlight after the rain, and remembering what my life is like when no one is watching.

Because that’s the most important life of all.  

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Feel the magic…

End of Year Blog for 2024
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End of Year Blog for 2024

It’s coming to the end of the year, and I am about to take such much-needed time off. Throughout the year, I take two holidays: one summer, and one winter holiday. I use this time to go back home and see my family in Canada, which as the years progress gets even more important. They say you don’t know what you’ve got until its gone, but I disagree. I am so very thankful and happy for my friends and family, and I will spend every single chance I can get with them, no matter what.

This time of year is always reflective for me. The autumn season begins the turning inwards of my thoughts, and as the nights draw in, the leaves fall and the winds of change come in bringing the storms. My energy moves from projecting out into the world, to pulling inwards. It’s a cycle of extrovert and introvert, though I must admit that I am a functioning introvert all of the time. When the leaves have all fallen, and the winter rains and dark days lie ahead, I think of home, of family and friends, of warmth and companionship even as I dream of long walks, snowshoe hikes, and cross-country skiing out in the silent wilderness of the boreal forest.

It’s a time when I take stock of my achievements for the year. This year has been exceptional, in that I have completed three books! The first is the follow-up to The Path of the Hedge Witch, my non-fiction work for Llewellyn. The Old Ways: A Hedge Witch’s Guide to Living a Magickal Life will be available next year in the UK, on the 8 March 2025 for Kindle and 8 April for the paperback. (Don’t ask me why the paperback takes a month longer, I have no idea. I’m guessing shipments from the US to UK Amazon stores are involved?)

The second and third books finished this year begin my new fiction series, Witches of the New Forest. The first two books, Hedge Witch and The Veil Between the Worlds, form two thirds of the trilogy set around the main character, Hunter Williams, as she begins on her path of Hedge Witchcraft. With Druids, otherworldly characters, a magickal community and more, it’s a really fun environment to spend my days in, and I love it. Returning to fiction feels like coming home. (Other books in the series are planned, from different characters’ perspectives.)

I’ve always been a writer. From the age of twelve or thirteen, I’ve been writing stories. Ever since I finished reading Lord of the Rings, I knew that I wanted to write books set in a beautiful fantasy world where myth and magick meet.

Having been so productive this year has, however, caused a little burnout. I’m tired. I need some time away from my computer and my desk, away from social media, away from anything digital. I long to spend hours in the woods where I grew up, smelling the snow and the cedars, watching the chickadees and the wild turkeys coming into garden. I want to reconnect not only with the natural world, but also with my own sense of self. What I am craving most, is peace.

Which is funny, considering how crazy the first few weeks are going to be back home, shopping for presents, organising and attending the family parties, New Year’s celebrations and more. But it’s home, and it’s where I decompress, busy though it might appear. My heart just instantly relaxes, my body gives a sigh of relief and my lungs are filled with the crisp, cold air. There’s even an extra hour of daylight, not to mention days where the sun actually shines!

But peace is something that I’ve always sought after in my life. Little spaces of sanctuary. I have always created these spaces no matter where I was in the world, because I needed that in order to function on any sort of level. My homes have never been just houses, flats or apartments. They’ve been havens from the world outside, where I can let down my own walls and just be.

It’s a strange thing to think about, this need for peace. I look outside the window as I type, and I see collared doves in the beech tree. Are they at peace in this moment? They certainly don’t have to worry about promoting their work, keeping an eye on their sales, updating their social media or paying the bills. But they do have to survive in a difficult climate. Do they worry? About different things? Or are they at peace with what life had dealt them, and they’re just getting on with it?

I’ve studied a lot of Zen Buddhism in my time. That’s all about ways to find peace, by giving up searching for peace. There are so many paths to peace in this world. Maybe you could leave a comment on this post, sharing your path to peace? I’d love to hear about it.

Giving up the need for peace, as most Zen Buddhists would say, brings about peace. It’s the need that is the driving force in our own dissatisfaction. When we realise that we can have peace anywhere, at any time, simply by letting go of our need for peace, it can be like a ton of bricks has fallen from our shoulders. It’s so simple. And yet, so difficult to maintain. It can makes sense for five to ten seconds, before something else demands our attention. And our need for peace returns with a vengeance.

With so many external factors creating our personal circumstances, it can be very hard to see how we can let go of that need for peace in our lives, because people bring problems. Life is hard. We have no control over anything. For many Buddhists, simple acceptance of the circumstances is what brings peace. I’m not quite there yet all the time, but I can understand the mechanics behind the concept and try to remember it as much as I can throughout my day.

During the winter holidays, peace is such a central theme. Scenes of snowy landscapes evoke a feeling of peace and stillness on holiday cards. Snow is wonderful. It muffles sound, and covers all the sharp edges of the world, leaving behind sparkly magic in both sunlight and moonlight. Like a weighted blanket for the world, it holds us, frozen in a moment of time, to offer us peace.

Other simple things can bring us peace. The lighting of a candle, the recitation of a heartfelt prayer of thanks, the cooking of a meal, snuggling into a warm bed. Many things we often overlook can bring us peace. It is true: mindfulness does bring peace.

In a world full of lies, deception, insane politics, war and other atrocities, it can seem impossible to find peace. If you live in a country where people with guns are roaming the streets, if you live in dread of air raids or drones dropping bombs on your home, if you don’t have enough food for your cat, let alone yourself, finding peace is not only difficult, but damn-near impossible. When we are just fighting to survive, we are not at peace.

But I am guessing that the majority of you who are reading this blog do not live in these sorts of circumstances. We live in a mainly moral society, where the rule-breakers often get punished for breaking the social contracts and the laws that we have created through a democratic process of electing those to speak for us. In these worlds, we face other issues. We have the time to reflect on morals, on ethics, on philosophical ideas of all kinds. We can even create strange, perverse worlds where we find ourselves in moral competition with each other. “You’re not angry enough about this,” or “by not speaking up about it, you have failed society,” and other concepts often pop up on the socials, where everyone is judging everyone else, and everyone is found lacking.

It’s no wonder we can’t find peace.

Morality isn’t a competition.

But I digress.

For me, it’s in the small moments and in the small things where I find my peace. Having a moment to watch the sun set in the winter skies, with the golds and peaches highlighting the blues, pinks and purples. Stroking a purring cat curled up on a sunbeam on the bed. Eating a meal with my family. Sitting at my altar, honouring the deities, the spirits of place, and more. The big accomplishments are nice, and they are rewarding in different ways. But the culmination of all the small things is what really brings me peace. It’s not in what I do, but almost in what I don’t do. When I stop ‘doing’ and simply ‘be’, that’s where peace is found. It’s that liminal space, where there is no ‘I’ or ‘You’, but only ‘Us, Together’.

And so, I end this ‘end of year blog’ with an Irish blessing that’s often in my thoughts at this time of year.

Deep Peace to You

Deep peace of the running wave to you.
Deep peace of the flowing air to you.
Deep peace of the quiet earth to you.
Deep peace of the shining stars to you.

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July Musings

The hot summer sun beats down, and the humid air lies heavy all around. To go into the forest during the day would be to invite all the biting insects to a feast, and to sit indoor feels almost like sacrilege on these summer days. But it is so hot. The kind of heat where just moving makes you break out in a sweat. Sitting still seems to be the best thing to do. The cat knows and understands this, and so I take my cue from her wisdom of being.


Even the birds have stilled their song in the midday heat. Earlier, the cardinal sang his heart out to his love, who is always nearby. The crows still caw occasionally, but apart from that, all is still except for the long, drawn out trill of the cicadas cooling off. The mosquitoes are all hiding in the woods from the heat, and the black flies have mostly died off. It’s the heat of an August day, in the middle of July, and we have been in this heat wave for two weeks now. Everyone is tired.


Still, my love for nature calls to me. I seek out the shade, and listen and watch the life that exists all around me. It’s in my nature, and was a big part of my Druid training. Be still. Watch. Listen. Learn.


When we still the voices in our minds, those stories of the humans that are part of our lives, we are then open to receive the stories of the other than human world. Whether we are in a city or on a remote hillside overlooking a vast plain of grasses shimmering in the breeze, there are stories all around us. In the flora and fauna, we learn of the countless ecosystems, micro and macro, and how we fit into them as living beings. And hopefully how to do so with love and respect.


The cycle of the seasons is shifting, from the height of midsummer and the ectastic, dancing energy of the tide of highest light, to the slower, more thoughtful tread of the harvest. The wheat is ripening in the fields, the seeds hanging in the trees and the late summer flowers are blooming. The greening is no longer vibrant, but heavy with the responsibility of continuing the legacy of growth, death and rebirth.


What lessons can I take from this oppressive heat, this heavy time, this long outbreath after the days of midsummer? Lammas or Lughnasadh is fast approaching: the first harvest. But we are still in an in-between state; the calm before the storm. It feels like a time to rest, recoup and prepare for the heavy labour that lies ahead when we collect in our dreams of the winter and spring, and which we have brought out into the world and into the light of summer. It’s that morning cup of coffee before the kids awake, or that few minutes in the bathroom of the office where you just need to be alone and regroup. It’s a stroll along a lakefront, the heavy stormclouds gathering overhead.


And so I rest, here with my family, as best I can in the 30+ degree celsius heat. I have just under two weeks remaining to gather up my strength again and reap the harvest that I had planned and worked for all this year. The books are coming along nicely, and the fiction has been especially rewarding. Finalsing that text in August and September will be a joy, and in readiness possibly for a Samhain release.


The breeze blows softly through the leaves of the oak tree my grandfather planted in the backyard. Now huge, its overhang shades the house from the relentless southerly sunshine, as well as standing as a proud reminder of our heritage and our life here in this part of Canada. Many other trees that I grew up with have long since gone, having lived out their life span or destroyed by storms or harsh winters. But the tall oak tree still stands, its large green leaves and developing acorns towering over this end of the village, and looking out towards the great expanse of the valley that is hidden from us humans by a large cedar hedge. This oak tree is part of both worlds: that of the human family that has lived under its boughs for over 50 years, and also that of the surrounding landscape, with the forest and valley, the hills and clouds, the rain and sunshine, sleet and snow that has blessed this landscape since it was formed.


Settling into my roots, deep like the oak tree, I can find the sustenance I need to carry me through.

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New video: 15 Minute Water Meditation

Here’s a new video, with footage that I’ve shot over the last two years both in Canada and where I live in Suffolk, England. This video is all about finding healing, joy, peace and relaxation with the element of water. Enjoy!

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New Video: 15 minute relaxation

Take a moment to relax, de-stress, calm down, take a time out -whatever you need to do with this 15 minute new video from my YouTube channel. Blessings!

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A Spell for Peace

This month I’ve written a spell for peace (in a war-torn country) that is available to everyone via my Patreon page. You do not need to be a Patron to view or download the pdf of this spell – it is open to all. May we be peace. xoxo

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Ten little seconds…

Meditation can be done for many different reasons. Some use it to find inner peace, others to help find a focus in their lives and their work, others to increase compassion in their lives and for others. But for the most part, I think an aspect of meditation that is often over-looked is the simple aspect of it being nice to just stop every once in a while, sit down and enjoy the moment.

I use meditation for all the reasons given above, and more. But it’s in the simple pleasure of stopping where perhaps it is of most use. Taking the time to light some candles and incense, get some cushions out and just simply “be” is a great gift that I can give to myself at the end of a busy day or week. As I sit in front of my altar, I allow all the thoughts that are running through my head to make themselves known to me, rather than just being background stress and noise. Eventually, the thoughts slow down, quieten and then comes that exquisite moment when all is still. No more mental gymnastics. No more body twitches, itches or squirming trying to find a comfortable, relaxed position. Everything settles, even if  this feeling lasts for just ten seconds, and it is good. Better than good. The heart opens, the mind and body are one. There is nothing but myself and the world, here and now, sitting, breathing, peaceful.

Having even ten seconds to still the mind, to allow it to take a break from all the thoughts has an enormous effect on you for days afterwards. Taking the time to allow you to set aside the cares and worries, the reminiscing and the to-do lists, the work and the family issues has a profound effect not only on your mind but also on your body. Have you ever just sat on the couch after a busy day, flopped onto the sofa and just stopped for a minute or two? Meditation is the same thing, for your mind and your body, allowing it a moment of rest.

In that deep silence, when that moment is achieved, we can have some profound realisations as well. When we stop the mental chatter, we allow ourselves to refocus on what really matters in our lives. Just a few seconds of that blissful silent state can alter our perception and allow us to put things into perspective. What really matters? Not what the guy said to you in that social media group. Not the office gossip or your infuriating work colleague. We find that spending a little time in the quiet of our homes or meditation space, whether inside or outside, allows us to see that it’s in the joy of being alive right now, and the people that we actually physically share our lives with that really matter. Our family and friends. Our home. Our gardens. Our religion or spirituality. The Earth. Our perspective can get so skewed by what is happening in the world around us. Allowing us to stop and refocus changes everything.

It’s amazing what ten little seconds can achieve.

Cover 1To find out more about meditation, stillness and finding peace, try my little e-book, The Stillness Within: Finding Inner Peace in a Conflicted World.

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Prayer

This morning I attended another minute of silence, this time for those who died and who are currently suffering from the devastation of Grenfell Tower in London. As I stood in the little shop (Rainbow Apothecary) with Claire and a new shop assistant (sorry, I didn’t catch her name) I opened my soul out towards those who have been devastated by this latest tragedy. I could feel a wave of grief, rolling across this nation, across all these islands as yet more lives have been lost, this time due to utter negligence. The anger that was felt on Friday night as people took to the streets was muted, and here was a space for quiet mourning, for healing and for prayers.

I also thought of the man who was killed outside of the mosque at Finsbury Park last night, as a man in a van drove up the pavement and started hitting people, with an agenda that he stated which was to “kill all Muslims”. I pray for strength for his family, and for those who are in hospital, and for the human spirit to be healed, so that terrible events like these stop happening in this country, or in any country.

I prayed for those in Portugal, whose homes and lives have been destroyed by forest fires. I prayed for the 17 year old girl in the US who was killed on her way home from the mosque. I pray for the 65.6 million people were displaced in 2016, (more than the population of Britain, and half of them children), and even more this year.

I prayed for all who are suffering.

I prayed to My Lady for healing for all those affected by disaster. I prayed to those who are still looking for loved ones, who are in hospital, who are confused and don’t know where to turn. May they find the help that they need, and may they find strength for the coming days. I prayed to My Lord to help guide souls across, who may be wandering in the devastation and ruin. Most of all, I prayed for peace.

Prayer and silence are necessary, for the emotions and trauma of the events to find a place within your soul, a place where they can be felt and expressed with understanding and respect.

May there be peace in our hearts and minds, and towards all fellow beings.

 

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Compassion on a Tuesday Morning

22 people died last night in a bombing of a pop concert in Manchester. The first thing I saw on my Facebook newsfeed this morning was a post from a friend, who had said that they had reached compassion capacity, and that they simply shrugged and got on with getting ready for work, as there was nothing they could do anyway.

I hope never, ever to become this way.

It is my firm belief that we only allow ourselves to be de-sensitised. No one can de-sensitise us in today’s easy, modern world (I’m talking about people who have decent jobs, put food on the table, have a place to live and also have money left over for some nice things, like socialising). It is a choice that we make to turn ourselves off to the world.

My thoughts and prayers are with the families of those who are seriously hurting right now. They can’t shrug it off and go to work. They have lost children, parents, brothers and sisters. Those who survived are in pain, undergoing or awaiting surgery at one of the six hospitals in the area that took these emergencies. If these people can’t turn off, then I certainly can’t.

There is no limit to compassion. Let me repeat that: there is absolutely no limit to compassion. We can have compassion for anyone. That doesn’t mean we tolerate bad behaviour or condone violence in any way. It means that we do not turn off that very essence of what makes us human, that ability to feel, to empathise, to look deeper into an issue and to offer healing, support, prayers and love where and when we can. There is no limit to that.

Yes, there are some cases in our lives when we have to walk away from a bad situation. But we don’t have to turn ourselves off in the process. People have been horrendous to me, and I have needed to walk away. In doing so, I have not turned myself off, but sought compassion for myself, and gotten out of a bad situation so that my compassion for others would not be compromised. And the people who were horrendous to me, well, I only hope that they truly find the healing that they need, so that they stop doing it to others, and themselves.

It is all about the choices that we make. I was going to write a blog post today about choices, but that will follow in a consecutive post later this week or next week. This morning, I needed to focus on the events of last night, and my friend’s reaction to them. It saddened me greatly, and also angered me that people could make the choice to turn themselves off. We live in such a narcissistic society, that we only focus on ourselves. We often use the excuse that the only thing that we can change is ourselves, however, for me in that context it is just that: an excuse. When we see suffering in the world, if we only focus on ourselves, then how do we stop the suffering of others? Yes, we need to heal ourselves, but we also need healing for the world at large. If we are always looking inwards, then we are ignoring the outer world that is very much a part of our reality and existence. Just because we choose to ignore it, doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.

If everyone ignored the suffering in the world, then there wouldn’t be organisations dedicated to helping others, when human or non-human. Greenpeace, The Red Cross, Amnesty International; these would not exist. We have to look beyond the scope of our little world and realise that we are very much part of the whole. We co-create the world that we live in. We co-create our reality.

What do I mean by that? Well, I often hear the saying that “we create our own reality.” This isn’t true, because there are many factors in life that aren’t under our control. The child in Aleppo did not create the reality of a war-torn city. We are responsible for what we bring into the world, and we also have to realise that we share this world with others who are bringing their own stuff into the mix, and therefore into our reality. Ignoring this does not make it go away. If I ignored what happened last night and simply got on with my day, then this blog post would not be written. I would not be sharing my words and thoughts with you. I would not be exploring the themes of suffering and compassion, and how to make this world a better place for everyone.

I will not turn myself off to the suffering in the world. Sometimes, there may not be much I can do about it, but if I turn myself off then I will bring that into my own little world, my local environment, which leads to a de-sensitivity to that area. It will trickle down into my everyday life, from my relationship to my husband, to my friends, to the lady at the post office. When we de-sensitise ourselves at a national or global level, we are fooling ourselves if we think that doesn’t seep into our everyday life, our everyday interactions with people, with the world.

My thoughts and prayers for the families of last night’s tragedy may not have an immediate or direct affect upon them personally. The children who are orphaned in Syria, with no place to go, are again not immediately affected by my thoughts and prayers. Neither are the badgers being culled, or the battered woman seeking a place to sleep for the night in a non-government funded women’s shelter. But I am affected by this, and so is everyone around me. I will not lose my compassion, and open my heart to everyone who I do come into contact with. I will try to make this world a better place, to live in harmony and to promote peace. If I turn myself off to the suffering, how can I promote peace?

We are making a choice, when we ignore the suffering. Sometimes there is a line, where we have to walk away from a bad situation because we ourselves are at risk. That is usually because we are suffering to a large extent, due to myriad factors, most of them beyond our control. We all need to retreat every now and then, to lick our wounds and to heal. On my darkest days, when the suffering in the world overwhelms me, when the aching in my bones and joints moves from the dull to the sharp, I need to take a step away. But that doesn’t mean I shut myself off completely. I still have compassion for others. I need to take care of myself, certainly, but I do not forget others. I do not forget that the world is more than just me.

Compassion is all about choice.

On the turning away
From the pale and downtrodden
And the words they say
Which we won’t understand
“Don’t accept that what’s happening
Is just a case of others’ suffering
Or you’ll find that you’re joining in
The turning away”
It’s a sin that somehow
Light is changing to shadow
And casting it’s shroud
Over all we have known
Unaware how the ranks have grown
Driven on by a heart of stone
We could find that we’re all alone
In the dream of the proud
On the wings of the night
As the daytime is stirring
Where the speechless unite
In a silent accord
Using words you will find are strange
Mesmerised as they light the flame
Feel the new wind of change
On the wings of the night
No more turning away
From the weak and the weary
No more turning away
From the coldness inside
Just a world that we all must share
It’s not enough just to stand and stare
Is it only a dream that there’ll be
No more turning away   – Pink Floyd