Why subscribe?
My writing isn’t a newsletter. It’s a sanctuary that quietly challenges the mind and demands reflection.
I write about belonging, mattering and liminality, but I also write about nature, living with cancer and the places that I travel. Sometimes I’ll share what I’m currently reading and sometimes I’ll encourage us to just pause for a coffee.
If you long for writing that makes space for sorrow, survival and joy, that reminds you that you’re not alone, then this is your place.
Subscribe to be met. To be moved. To remember what matters.
Who am I?
Well at the risk of going down an existential rabbit hole, I shall leave it at a woman in her mid-50’s, working with the legacy of trauma in all areas of the public sector. My adult cubs bring me endless joy, I live with an incurable cancer (hence the posts on living in the liminal space between death and dying) and I love to walk (and walk, and walk, and walk). I am a published author and I spend some of my time training and keynote speaking around the world.
I write about belonging, mattering, grief, liminality, writing and healing in the form of essays, poems, rituals, reflections, prompts and curated resources.
Who are you?
You’re likely to work in education, social work, therapy or health. You will be interested in trauma-informed practices that are considered deeply rather than from a place of dilution. You will already see yourself as part of a community of people who share a deep desire to make a difference to others while also knowing that you do this through collective care and radical self care.
A Blessing
May you feel your roots, even when the ground shifts.
May you know in your soul that you matter, even when the world forgets how to listen.
May the ache you carry be met with gentleness, not judgment.
May the stories etched in your bones find language that holds them tenderly.
May you rest in the liminal space between loss and becoming, between silence and song.
May your words be bridges, your breath connection, your presence a quiet revolution.
And may you always find companions who honour your wholeness, even in the places that were once broken.
LOVE Lisa x
