Home from Glastonbury

Okay, we all know, by now, just how much I love to write.

I sit down and unleash whatever needs to come out. It’s part medicine, part crafting and part needing to empty the contents of my head,

heart and soul.

So why for the last three days, when I have SO much to share am I feeling the most resistance. Why do I want to just write for myself only

and have no desire to post or publish what I’m writing.

I’m puzzled, genuinely.

I’m thinking that maybe it’s for any, or all, of the following reasons:

I’m not ready to share the experiences I’ve had in the last week.

I haven’t even processed all that happened for myself even yet.

I don’t know where to start.

I’m afraid I won’t know where to stop.

I’m terrified if I put it out there to the wider world it will lose its sense of magic.

I’m really struggling to put words on what has happened for me this past week.

I’ve always been a late bloomer.

I always felt that I was the last to get an invitation to any party. I had somewhat similar experiences to those around me growing up but it

always felt they came to me later. I never felt in step. I am using the word ‘feeling’ here because I think the truth of this is that everything

happened me at the same time as everyone else it just took me a little longer to process it and to really feel it.

And this last week was absolutely no different.

Others around me felt shifts, they experienced their own magic, they noticed their own changes, movements and stirrings. They talked

about the great changes they had made in their hearts.

Whereas I felt, as I so often do, that I was simply preparing.

Everything happening around me was and is, preparing for me for the changes and shifts that will happen within me. And that’s okay.

It’s more than okay.

For me, it’s a good thing.

Because it gives me time to get used to the idea of letting something new in, of letting the guard down, of explaining it to myself, of

understanding it and then finally of allowing it in. It’s the only process I know how to do and it is the one that always feels safest for me.

Because it’s right for me.

Since the last morning in Glastonbury things have started changing slowly, gently but pointedly. I can’t ignore them but they are not forcing

themselves on me either. They’re the perfect house guest. Keeping me company but I’d hardly know they’re here.

And I ask over and over what lessons did I learn, what did I discover about myself that I didn’t know before, what has shifted, what has

fallen away?

And the answers are coming.

But I’m not ready to share them just yet.

I’m sure over time they’ll seep in to my writing but for now I’ll just stay stewing in the bask of the most amazing week ever and feeling so

grateful for the wonderful women that made week last week happen. Heartfelt thanks to Rebecca Campbell, Lynsey Cowan, Madeline

Giles, Amy Firth, Julie Campbell and Craig and Trevor.

You made it all happen for us.

You brought the magic.

We will be forever grateful. I already am.

Niamh xx