“Everybody needs beauty as well as bread, places to play in and pray in, where nature may heal and give strength to body and soul” [ John Muir ]

We all know these days. You’re exhausted. They won’t sleep. You’re starving, they won’t stop eating. You’re not sure if it’s a growth spurt or they just want to be close to you. To be honest, it doesn’t really matter what it is. It’s so freaking hard regardless. It’s hard to find that stillness and calmness that is there on other days – and you might find yourself asking why it’s there sometimes and others it couldn’t feel further away. 

We spent a week up north on an island. It was pure heaven. We were surrounded by water and trees and family. We had stormy days and sunny days. There were rocking chairs to sit in, big fires to curl up next to and cozy beds to sleep in. We got in a rhythm that was nothing short of magical. Wake up to smiles, make breakfast, have a nap, sit by the water, go for a swim…just taking some time to connect to one another and to nature. 

While we were up there I wrote the following “she is connecting to nature, to her rhythms, to her b e a t. Since we’ve come up north to this special island we’ve both slowed down, we’ve both adjusted to a new pace. Less crying, easier feeds, longer sleep stretches, it has genuinely blown me away. She has sensed me relax and in turn she’s relaxed. We are both in tune with nature and it’s pretty heavenly” 

Now that we’re back it’s been a bit of a wild change to keep that stillness, that genuine flow that you get when you’re connected to nature. It’s something I often struggle with and I think sometimes is the reason why I jump in the car and just go when I get overwhelmed. There is something about getting ‘away’ that soothes me. Something about physically taking myself into nature that I know will slow me down. 

I often create spaces in my head. Spaces that don’t exist yet but that I hope one day will. Spaces with big open rooms, with glass walls, with cold stone floors, with big kitchens, low lying beds with pillows and rugs everywhere. Rooms with claw foot bath tubs surrounded by candles, spaces with outdoor showers and views of mountains, of deserts, and of trees as far as the eye can see. 

One huge part of creating these places is the visualization of them – down to the very last detail. It gives me this endless hope that if I want it enough, if I ask for it and breathe towards it, it will happen one day. 

The same goes for the impossible days. When you’re not in that magical place that just happens to make everything easy. When you just can’t anymore. You can’t walk anymore, you can’t try to get them to sleep anymore, you can’t lie there and wait anymore.

So you get up and you go. You visualize. You connect to yourself, to them, to H E R and you try your best to find that inner peace and calmness. Because one day it will come naturally, one day you won’t need to get in the car and drive to find it. You’ll be able to close your eyes and just take yourself there.