Where the energy goes …

I thought … perhaps, I could write about life here and tell the adventure story I want to write over at Slower Family Travels. So in the past few days I’ve given them both some energy and attention. How I loved revisiting this site with its pre this time in my life vibe. It was so gentle. I was so gentle!

When I started Slower Family Travels I was high on save the world energy and planning my One Girl walk. High under the influence of some awesome big world changers and I was ready to make some serious impact. I didn’t need to go gently then. I needed bold and fierce.

And now it’s flipped and I need crave gentle. Gentle, calm and quiet plodding. Maintaining high vibe change the world energy is not in my capacity right now. But as much as I enjoyed playing here I can’t maintain two blogs so back to sleep Gentle Intention goes.

I will take the gentle vibe with me over to SFT though. After playing with both sites it is clear to me that my writing still fits over there now. It is where I am going to birth a new passion project. The Sunday Edition.

When you’re missing something a treasured friend once told me you have to create it. Create the community you’re missing. So I am going to create a good news story, and a new story for me via The Sunday Edition.

And hopefully I’ll build strong community along with it. If that sounds like something you’re interested in I’ll meet you over there.

Fran xx

Gentle by Intention

‘Be gentle on yourself’ she said. ‘Give yourself kindness and compassion.’

Have I forgotten what it means to be gentle on myself?

Have I tread so far from my path, from myself?

Do I know who I see in the mirror?

Is the she who I see truly me?

Life feels a lot less gentle in these current times.

I am in a room, with a wise woman beckoning me to trust myself.

Have I become scared?

Are my wounds bigger than my dreams?

I am still me, of course I am. She sees me.

Why am I hiding? Who am I hiding from?

She, the wise one, my preventative health Dr.

A healer who left emergency medicine after being traumatised by dealing with bodies in crisis.

My body is a little in crisis.

Perhaps, my soul too.

I can still heal.

Life sometimes feels like a culture shock.

When did I cross the line?

The one that takes you from fearless to fearful?

The one where I see more zombies faces, and hear more zombie speak than true excitement and depth?

Today’s noise exhausts me.

The news, the celebrity culture, the striving, the begging for space.

What is it I am missing?

Where is my private world, my bubble.

The little place I can do my best from?

My best is all I’ve got, it’s enough.

Enough to not need more.

The gentle place.

The place flowing with kindness and people who care.

The place where there are no expectations, just honest connection and acceptance.

There are ideas and creative flow.

The place where excitement and dreams are the rewards.

It’s a curious place that place.

It’s heartfelt and it’s supportive.

There are beautiful words and interesting stories.

Security matters but trust is the rule.

Is that place here? Where to begin again?

It is never that far away.

It’s beginning.

‘I know what I need to do’ I whispered to her after my treatment.

I’ve always known.

‘I NEED to write.’

Ireland, my love affair…

This week I’ve been reading my early posts about Ireland and looking at the Instagram photos I posted back then that captured how Ireland felt for me as I begin to write about that time in my book.

It reads like a love affair.

It was.

An unexpected full blown love affair.

I was swept off my feet by the Emerald Isle. Continue Reading

Transition…

There are a lot of things I know about myself and still a lot that I’m figuring out as I go.

I am a bit of a journey(wo)man. I love the journey.

The day I hiked to the summit of Mulhacén, the peak of that hike wasn’t reaching the top.

Shit no.

It was the wonder of gazing across open valleys as the sun rose, the hikers I met on the trail, the mountain goat who showed me that way across the river, the satisfaction of doing it on my own and the pushing through when it got tough.

The summit – that was just the candy. I only spent 10 minutes up there between the cramping and the freezing cold wind. I wanted to get back to the the 9hr and 50mins I would spent on the trail that day.

The journey isn’t always lovely, nope – sometimes it’s hard, uncomfortable and it can hurt.

But when the good stuff happens – the moments you notice, the love you feel, the strength you dig into that’s yours that you built, the truths that reveal themselves, the stuff you make, the people who make everything meaningful – that’s the sweet stuff.

Continue Reading

A Modern Day Seanchaí…

“The cure for boredom is curiosity. There is no cure for curiosity.” ~ Dorothy Parker

As I write a book about my travels and the journey towards that decision I’m writing this weekly journal alongside it.

I suppose it would be normal then that the themes will overlap here as I look to my daily life for examples of the ideas I’m thinking about and exploring in writing.

My life makes sense to me when I see it through a bunch of connected stories.

‘I’m bored’ whined Lucas yesterday. ‘That is so brilliant’ I tell him. ‘That means you need to go and make something or think about what you’d like learn about or play with. Ask yourself Louie what you want to make?’ I challenge him.
Continue Reading

Taking the steps…

 

The Travelodge left us yesterday. In the same way she arrived, she slipped out with Greg in the driver’s seat and Tommy as the co-pilot. While I did make my way downstairs to take this snap I wondered if I should have made more fuss, said goodbye with a bit of fanfare. But then, I’m not really the kind for goodbyes and fanfare. I’d rather slip out the side door too and I’m quite seasoned with letting go. We’ve living in  ‘chapter Holland’ now and we’ll have a lifetime of wonderful memories and stories to share, that’s enough.

“As instinctively as the swallows, I have always known the time to go to a place and the time to leave”. Juliette de Bairacli Levy

I’m a bit obsessed with swallows at the moment. Throughout my whole life I’ve had a reoccurring dream of flying. In my dream I can fly. Mostly I fly freely but I can control the flight if I need to slow down, speed up, go higher and I can bring myself down safely. It seems a little swallow like doesn’t it. They fly high, following the seasons as they travel great distances. Yet, they always know when to come home.

It feels like we are home. One day the camper was home and the next day we step into this home. Ready and of course a little excited. I do understand to a lot of people that moving across the world must seem like a giant step. To me it feels like the next step that followed on from the previous step and the one before that. I’m not sure how to do justice to explaining that. Maybe like Jimmy as he learns to write his name. One day he’ll write his name and he’ll feel elated and then he’ll simply get on with learning to write another letter beyond the J.i.m.m.y needed for his name. I move in a forward motion and for me because of my character or is it DNA (I’m not sure, my cousins say it is) I often build new nests. That’s not usually the tricky bit for me.

Continue Reading