This week’s theme is gratitude in ordinary moments. To begin: name 3 ordinary things you’re grateful for today. Nothing fancy. Nothing polished. Just three small things that made life feel a little more held. 1. My desk - I dream, write and create at my desk - my whole world on a table top. 2. The sunshine - feeling so free and warm, walking along the beach in the sun is like meditation for my bones. 3. Coffee in the morning - it's an act of love in a cup x

This week we stayed with the theme Small Joys, Big Medicine and truthfully, it has been one of those weeks where I have really felt that. Behind the scenes, I’ve been making a few lovely updates to the community. The journal links are now in place in the Classroom under Journals, and I’ve also updated my About page. I held my very first Silver Circle this week too, which I thoroughly enjoyed. That replay will be added to the Classroom soon as a free archive for Kindling members. ⭐ I’ve also been enjoying time in other communities this week. I particularly loved the masterclass from @themoneygoddess - Money in Your Stars. I highly recommend having a look if you haven’t already. It was fascinating on so many levels, including some I hadn’t even considered before. ⭐ I’ve also been reading Miracles Are Normal, now out in paperback, co-written by Lauren Kinghorn @miraclesarenormal. It’s such a lovely pick-me-up, and it felt beautifully aligned with this week’s theme. A reminder that often the smallest things carry the deepest medicine. As we move into next week, our new theme is Gratitude in Ordinary Moments. That feels especially meaningful to me right now, because today I realised that many of my ordinary moments are not ordinary at all. We work so hard to shape the life we live, and this morning I felt such a strong shift into the present. Not pulled back by the weight of the past, and not reaching ahead for answers from the future - just here. Safe. Real. Present. It felt deeply freeing. So that is the intention I’m carrying into the week ahead- to be present in the moments that make up my life, and to meet them with gratitude.

“It always seems impossible until it’s done.” That line from Nelson Mandela has really been carrying me lately. I’m in one of those seasons where I’m building something I care deeply about, but it is asking so much of me. Every day I seem to be learning something new, because so much of what I’m doing, I’ve never done before. It’s draining, time-consuming, rewarding, exciting and honestly a bit overwhelming at times too. But I keep thinking about how many things in life felt impossible to me… until I did them. Until I learnt them. Until I overcame them. Until I realised I was actually capable of more than I thought. This morning I was reading a chapter written by my friend Lauren Kinghorn in Everyday Miracles, and it made me think about what miracles really are. Sometimes they are not huge dramatic moments. Sometimes they are the everyday impossibilities that stay impossible until we make them happen. And I think that’s where I am right now. Just quietly building. Quietly learning. Quietly proving to myself that I can do things I once thought were beyond me. So if something feels impossible to you right now, maybe it is not impossible at all. Maybe it is just waiting for you to keep going.

This week’s Wordcore word is GLIMMER. A glimmer is a small moment in your day that brings joy, peace, comfort, or gratitude. It feels like such a fitting word for our first theme in The Way of Gratitude: Noticing What Is Already Here. Sometimes we think gratitude has to be big, obvious, or deeply profound. But often it begins somewhere much smaller. In a flicker of relief. In a quiet comfort. In a beautiful ordinary moment that reminds you life is still here, still offering something, even now. A glimmer might be: - the light through the window - your first sip of coffee - a song you needed - a calm breath - a moment of stillness - a feeling that, for one second, something softened That is where I think this week begins. Not with forcing gratitude, but with noticing. Journal starting line: Something small that met me today was…

Our Gathered gold post is following this weeks theme of gratitude. Usually, this is where I share a poem or piece of writing that has inspired me and mirrors the week’s theme - Noticing What Is Already Here. This week is a little different. This week, I’m indulging in sharing one of my own poems. Maybe I’m reminiscing about my Scottish home. Maybe I’m thinking about the small glimmers that surround me each and every day. Maybe the sounds of waves coming of the South China Sea are somehow sending me a message from far, far away, back to the Scottish North Sea. I don’t know. But my mind has been drifting back to that day I wrote Shore walk. The Scottish summer was warm, but the wind still cut salted air across my cheeks and tangled my hair into knots. I stood in wonder at all that was there on that beach that day, and I wrote a poem about it. With gratitude. Noticing what is already there. Shore Walk Where did you come from, stone? Were you once magnificent - praised, beloved, organic worn by tides and crushing blows? Sleepy in the dark, alone, time pushing on. Were you washed up many times before this shore rested your crown? Did you come from far, sand? Cultivated by winds and waves, how many years of knowledge have gathered in your grains? Shape shifter, sand drifter. Culture and wisdom long forgotten, as you return to dust. Where did you come from, glass? Your broken pieces once sparkled so bright - trinket, vessel, vase. You do not fear the endless tides - eternal union, your kind companion. She sees your weathered beauty, what you have become. Soft, gilded, opaque, her sea swims you home. Where are you going, wave? Here and there, near and far, cadence between the earth and stars - hypnotic dance to moonlight. A partner to the winds, the sky and me. Distant shores call my name, foamy echoes embraced in swell - gentle, strong, forever, farewell.