Currently, I’m once again wondering whether blogging is still the right medium for me. Fewer and fewer people seem to read or engage in conversation, especially with my usually happy posts. I’m just not interested in holding a monologue! People are my lifeblood, one of my main passions actually, and talking to myself is not my thing.

To liven things up, I thought I’d do a fun “How well do you know the hag?” quiz. Answers are given at the end of this post. Here are the five questions:

1. What are my top three favourite bands of all time?
2. What’s my favourite symphony?
3. What’s my favourite piano concerto?
4. Who’s my favourite poet?
5. What’s my favourite movie?

Tee hee. If you manage all five, you really do know me well!

The thing is, I wear my heart on my sleeve and I love pretty much everyone, so people often get the impression that I’m an open book. But actually, I have a lot of different interests (multi-passionate…), from music and people and Coaching to birds and archery and HEMA and gaming, and I only let a very few, select people get really close. Those are treasured, trusted friends whose number I can literally count on the fingers of one hand.

I am, however, happy to share fairly personal things here on my website, as you’ve probably noticed. And I’ll continue to do so, as long as I get any sign from ye that you’re interested in reading this stuff. So, give me a sign! Joining the conversation by leaving a comment is one way; signing up to receive a quick email every time I post a new article, another.

So what have I been up to? Working. A lot. I’ve been talking about building up my Coaching business for years, and then never quite seen it through. It’s got a lot to do with personal issues like fear of visibility, and “what will my friends think if I get successful?” I may even make money, shock horror! Of course, none of this is conscious thinking, but it’s there in the background of a woman who grew up in the 70s and 80s when every cultural message to women was: be good, be there for others, do what you want in theory – but whatever you do, don’t stick out.

Screw all that, is what I say with my conscious mind. And I’m making another effort to bring this across and see it through this time. Amazingly, whenever I mentioned anything about my business here in my personal blog, people have patently ignored it. I’m sure you never meant to do this, but: It really re-enforces the message of: “Yikes, who does she think she is? How embarrassing. Let’s just be quiet, hoping she’ll get the hint and drop the subject.”

I’m not going to drop it. The other day, I was thinking through the concept of Wild Spirits Coaching, and realised that what I’m doing is nothing less than changing the world. I’m helping people to break free from this nightmarish version of “reality” of working one’s ass off to pay bills, buy stuff, and consume, and for what? “Security”? I say screw security and go for joy instead. Dare to do what you love. Dare to build your life around it. If you’re ready to do that, come to me, I’ll be happy to help. You’re here for a reason, a purpose, and it’s time to find it and align your life with it.

My prices are among the most affordable in the industry because I want everyone to be able to do this if they’re serious about it. So get on my email list. Sign up for a free checklist on beating procrastination, while you’re about it. You’ll get weekly Coaching magic into your inbox to boot, and no spam ever – solemn hagish promise.

The world needs this stuff. I’ve had it with playing small. If this makes you uncomfortable, then trust me, I get it. I was for the longest time, but I’m done. Don’t expect to ever see me return to silence and “normality”. The norm is a nightmare we badly need to wake up from. The real world is beautiful, so are people, and life is an ecstatic adventure, if only you dare to take your eyes off the media for long enough to notice. I’m a herald of this beautiful reality. In a way I feel like Morpheus in the Matrix movies, waking people up out of the artificial illusion of life and to what’s real.

What’s real is unconditional love, joy, passion, and authenticity. It’s also people feeling shit and battling trauma and loss and all that. But they’re choosing to battle, not succumb. They’re choosing joy. In a world of Trumps and Brexits, nothing’s more revolutionary than being relentlessly optimistic and overflowingly happy.

If you dare to be all that, then you’re part of my tribe. Welcome. If you’re not, I still love you, but you might not find much to your taste on this website (or my Coaching website, for that matter).

Here are the answers to the hag quiz!

1. What are my top three favourite bands of all time?
Number one: Yes (or rather, whatever they did in the 70s). Example here.
Number two: Jethro Tull. My favourite song here.
Number three: the early Marillion years, with Fish as their singer. Another favourite song.

2. What’s my favourite symphony?
Brahm’s 4th.

3. What’s my favourite piano concerto?
Prokofiev’s 1st.

4. Who’s my favourite poet?
Hugo von Hofmannsthal. You really need to know German to appreciate him. Absolute magician with language.

5. What’s my favourite movie?
The Age of Innocence. My favourite male and female actors together, incredible dramatisation of an amazing novel. Perfection.

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Here’s a rather dark video with lots of appropriately blurry pictures of the party last Saturday. I had a great time dancing and hugging people I love. Inga, Rachel and Maeve had even come up from Cork!

It was my friend Andrew’s birthday that day and mine yesterday, so we celebrated together and he even organised a DJ. All three of us took turns putting on music, so yes, I did get a chance to play some 80s – the good kind, I hasten to add. It made me realise how many younger people I know – those 30-somethings didn’t know half the tunes! Makes me even more determined to put together a full night of 80s music somewhere, some time. Watch this space.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It feels more like a birthday week to me this year, which is brilliant. The morning after the party I got more hugs and presents, this time from our lovely people at the Gort Community Market. And yesterday – my actual birthday – I dragged Jack along with me to Mayo. We had lunch in my favourite cafe, they refused to let me pay for it (awww!), and then we went to Massbrook for a round of archery.

The weather was spectacular, almost no wind and bright sunshine. It was icy cold, though; we had on so many layers, it felt like wearing a duvet.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

By the way, Jack actually makes longbows, he’s a master bowyer by trade and rather scarily good at what he does. I know I have a lot of readers who are into traditional archery too, so I just thought I’d give you the link to his new website Living Longbows (still a work in progress, but definitely worth bookmarking). My own longbow is in the first blog entry!

So, I’ve had a wonderful birthday and I’m a very happy 48-years-old hag. I mentioned before that I’m currently using every cent to pay back a rather hefty loan, but right now I feel rich, and it’s not just because of the presents – although they were spot-on!

Even the birds got something: Jack and Ziva and the hobbits gave me a metal-grid feeder for fatballs (among other things) and my rooks are fairly pissed off with me. The smaller birds did exactly what my budgies used to do whenever I put anything new into the aviary: They were scared of it at first, then patently ignored it for a while, and then their curiosity got the better of them and they started eating from it. Bets are now open on how long it’s going to take the rooks to figure out that they can simply lift the lid and take out a fatball.

Before I go, here’s a picture of me tired on the evening of my birthday:

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I accidentally joined the nicest gym in the world.

Part of my benefits at my job is a gym re-imbursement. It explicitly excludes martial arts involving weapons, so I’ve always ignored it so far. But now, after almost a year and a half of forced inactivity due to injury, now that my muscles are once again non-existent and so is my endurance, I could actually use a few classes to build up some strength again. And so, in the proverbial last minute before 2017 was up, I signed up at a gym in Athenry over the phone.

Before I continue: Remember what I said about people only reading the first few paragraphs of my blog articles? It’s happened again with my entry last week. Hardly anyone even got to the juicy bits further down, so please please, bear with me. My articles aren’t that long, after all!

Today I went to my first class. I used to go to large gyms in Austria and loved the anonymity, the way you could show up to a class one week and a different one the next and nobody would notice. Here, it’s different, and to my surprise I love it. I was introduced to the class (I don’t remember all the names, but give me a few weeks!) and looked after, encouraged, and had a good laugh with my training partner. Oh, and in the end it was: “Well done for keeping up!” and: “See you on Wednesday!”

It was a circuit-style class, deceptively “simple” but by the third round I had serious trouble sticking it out. Now I’m back home and trying to determine what’ll hurt most tomorrow: My arms and chest muscles, my thighs, or my abdominals.

And I’m ecstatic. I’m finally, finally moving again!! The last year and a half have been tough. You may vaguely remember an entry from 2016 where I explained how my energy is kinetic (in the last four paragraphs of that article, actually – in case you’re going to click the link), how I slip into depression if I don’t move. I haven’t quite been that low lately, but the overflowing love and joy had become infrequent spikes, rather than a continuous flow. Being constantly sick since September didn’t help (I’m still coughing but I believe that this time, I’m actually getting better).

Getting back into it is going to be tough, too, but I’m loving every moment of it. I’ve got my life back. Again. I’m going to go slowly this time, listen to my body, take care of it, and not push myself into injury again, that’s a solemn pledge.

It’s always so good to be recognisably me again: The dancing hag in black velvet and lace. Silly, awkward, happy, in love with people and everything else. Such as my birdies. I said the other week that I used to have the cutest budgies, and now I’ve got the cutest garden birds. The air is full of chirps again.

And tomorrow I’ll go to Mayo to recharche my soul. I’ll get a haircut and dye, have lunch at McHughs, and get new arrows from Harald – and if the weather’s not too horrible, I’ll go on to Massbrook afterwards. In other words, I’ll have my favourite kind of day bar none; it’s like a very special holiday every time, anticipated with tingly, delirious happiness, a bit like Christmas used to be when I was little.

All’s as it should be. 2018 has got off to a great start!

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When I tell people that I’m into historical swordfighting and/or traditional archery, there are a number of typical reactions I’ve become very familiar with. It goes something like this:

Me: I do historical swordfighting.

Guy: Chicks with swords are hot.

Me:

Or if I’m talking to a woman, especially one of the enlightened/spiritual sort, then I often get something like: “Oh you warrior woman!” or “Reclaiming your strength, bravo!” To which I react with something akin to a mixure of helplessness and guilt. Because what I really think is: “Ummmm, no… I mainly just like to hit things.”

Now before I continue: I am a hippie, often call myself one. I’m looking for ways of living a more sustainable life, and I’m most definitely looking to get out of the society-prescribed “sell a significant chunk of your waking hours to an employer, pay bills and shut up” status quo. I’m a card-carrying tree-hugger (and everyone-hugger, in fact) and a pagan hag who believes in free love and true connection over “ownership” monogamous relationships of the type society sanctions as the only valid version.

But when I’m among friends, I often feel like a hippie fail. I don’t join multi-culti workshops to sing to my womb or group-healing sessions of my divine feminine. And here’s yet another disclaimer before I continue: Some of the most amazing humans I’ve ever met are into this kind of stuff, so let me make absolutely clear that I’m not dissing it as such. I love everything that empowers people, and if this is the kind of thing that empowers you, go for it, ya hear me? I mean this with 100% sincerity and not even an ounce of condescension.

Different things empower different people. You needn’t justify what you do, and I don’t justify what I do either – what I share here is done in the name of just that, sharing. I’m always interested in how other people tick, so if anyone’s interested in how I tick, here it is. It’s not up for debate in the sense of comparison or judgment. It is what it is. We clear on that? Good.

So here’s the deal. I grew up in a developed “Western” country which taught me a lot about rationality, words, and logic (which was great). Where it fell down was in areas of spirituality, pleasure, the feminine principle, and my pussy. This has certainly damaged me and I have a shitload of healing yet to do. It’s just that I choose to do these things in deep ritual, on my own, or if push comes to shove, with a therapist (haven’t resorted to that in many years, but would again if it should become necessary). It’s what works for me.

Areas I didn’t have to heal, that a lot of others carry deep wounds in, include sexuality, strength, and owning my power. Not that I’m perfect in any of these, and indeed I continuously work on developing them. But I’m not nearly as wounded as many people I know. For example, I’ve never had a single negative sexual experience. While I’ve known condescension and sexism, I’ve never been assaulted or abused. I’ve always known my body and my sexuality and discovered sexual pleasure as a small child.

I’ve also been blessed by knowing that I wasn’t into “girl toys” like dolls. And if I do historical martial arts, I don’t do them to reclaim anything. I do them because I’ve always been fascinated with swords, and blades in general, and with history. Going to the gym makes my brain die of boredom, and I found that swinging swords is a lot more fun. So it’s ideal for me.

Traditional archery is about me being the cuddliest creature you’ve ever met. I am sense-ual in the literal meaning, and archery to me is about feeling the living wood under my hands and the whole beautiful fluidity of shooting, the zen of being in the forest and learning a very practical skill that could conceivably come in handy, in an emergency (I’m non-violent but like the thought of knowing these things in case I ever need them).

I’m not very New Age at all. In many respects, I’m astonishingly conservative. And while I love world culture, I focus on my own heritage, which I believe has been neglected and almost lost in many ways, due to a mix of patriarchy and an influx of foreign religions which have taken over. I love learning about all the world, but my impression is that many people turn to far-Eastern/Native American spirituality or culture or martial arts etc etc, not just out of interest in these things – which is great – but also a perceived gap in a similarly valuable tradition here in the West of Europe.

Our own traditions have been bulldozered over (by our own rulers, no less) for so long, there are only scraps left. But they are there. And before I learn more about anything else, I’ll practice European Martial Arts and archery, and Western Spirituality. I’m not into “goddesses” and crystals (which are mined by tearing up the body of our mother) and chakras, I’m into rolling in the mud and relating to the traditional elements, learning the energies of the plants and the stones and the people, directing them, and hearing the old stories and mythologies.

I’m into meeting the gods of the old pantheons, who are for the most part overjoyed to be heard and seen (and not mixed with deities from entirely different countries and cultures). I’m into experiencing, rather than reading about it. I’m into orgasm rather than meditation. Oh of course I do meditation, too, but I have so much feminine principle to catch up with, it’ll take me at least some more years of pleasure research until I’ll have headspace for anything else (and if you’ve no clue what I’m talking about, read Mama Gena’s Pussy book already).

If that makes me less of a hippie, so be it! It’s my own path. I’m happy supporting everyone else on theirs.

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I’ve been back for almost three weeks, but it feels much shorter. I still have traces of jet lag and am constantly grumbling about the cooler temperatures around here every day. So, yes, it was an amazing experience and apart from many heart-warming encounters with beautiful people and sights I’ll never forget in my life, it’s also given me a lot of food for thought.

What’s Nova Scotia like, then?

Imagine a land almost the size of the Republic of Ireland, with a quarter of the population. I’ll never complain about losing arrows in Massbrook again, because the density of the forest in NS meant I lost almost *every* arrow I shot into the underbrush instead of into a target. I saw a deer cantering across a highway (yes, really. We’re talking a massive wide road with two lanes in each direction), seals, whales, and more wild birds than you can shake a stick at.

Back in the middle ages, Ireland used to be known as the “wooded isle”. I imagine it must have looked a lot like that, back then. Basically, Nova Scotia is trees and water, both the sea and lakes are everywhere. There’s pretty picture-book cottages, lighthouses and more lighthouses. A jaw-droppingly beautiful coastline. Cliffs and beaches. And in between are some of the loveliest, warmest, funniest people I’ve ever had the pleasure to meet.

The temperatures were perfect, just warm enough to be summery without being sweltering – around 20-27 degrees apart from one rainy day when it was closer to 18. I went hiking that day in spite of the rain – I live in Ireland, if there’s one thing that doesn’t put me off, it’s rain – and saw a hauntingly beautiful fairy forest on a small peninsula with wild seas rushing all around it:

Every evening (apart from the last day; I was too heartbroken then), I wrote down a few highlights of the day, lest I forget. I thought I’ll just share these here. Make of them what you will!

 

21.7.

It’s the evening of my first day, and I’ve already:

• Danced
• Given someone a gift
• Got a warm, heartfelt hug
• Connected with amazing people (a Galway woman, among others)
• Listened to a live band

 

22.7.

Today, I:

• Had a lovely talk with a new friend
• Got more hugs
• Saw some of the most beautiful nature ever
• Saw wild geese and a doe
• Climbed a cliff
• Inhaled 340g of raspberries in under 10 minutes
• Drove more than I thought I could drive in one day
• Saw purple clouds
• Climbed into bed like a little child – the mattress is so thick, it increases the height of the bed by a lot!

 

23.7.

Today, I:

• Made another new friend and had a great talk
• Shot in the BANS shoot with my new longbow
• Got more hugs still
• Saw amazing scenery
• Saw a lighthouse
• Had dinner on my bed in the B&B and it was heaven!

 

24.7.

Today, I:

• Wore a dress
• Made friends with some trees
• Climbed to the lamp of a lighthouse
• Sat by the quiet waters of the Bay of Fundy at high tide
• Met a sea-hag
• Talked to a painter
• Fell in love with a town
• Got lost and drove in the wrong direction
• Saw a historic ship

 

25.7.

Today, I:

• Went hiking through a magical forest by the sea
• Stepped ankle deep into mud
• Stood on a cliff over the sea and listened to the waves
• Got more hugs
• Found a wonderful cafe
• Closed an important chapter in my life

 

26.7.

Today, I:

• Nearly got eaten by biting insects
• Walked around a lake with no other human nearby
• Saw 300-million-years-old fossils
• Had lunch with a lovely older couple from the States
• Saw seals and sea birds
• Drove along the most beautiful coastline
• Missed my new favourite cafe (arrived after closing time)

Three days, that is. To my holiday. You can rest assured you’ll hear lots about it once I’m back, so I’m going to try and be good and shut up about it now! Today, I’d much rather talk about the bigger picture, something this holiday is playing into.

If you’ve been following this blog for a while, you’ll know about my journey “back to life” in the past 1 1/2 years. Healing my body, re-connecting with my emotions and then with people I love, connecting with new friends, doing what lights me up (which is what my Coaching is all about), etc. And by the way, if you aren’t following my blog yet, fill in this little form (nobody but me will ever see your details) and you’ll get a little email every time I post.

So, the trip is the next step. And it’s a bit of a “surveying” trip, too, after all I’m seriously considering leaving Ireland if I don’t find a more permanent home here in the next few years. I have a friend who emigrated to Canada and keeps recommending it, so it’s definitely on the list. In fact, the list of countries that are English-speaking and sane is fairly short these days. I’m not ruling out different languages, but it would definitely be a drawback.

Not that I want to leave Ireland. In fact, I’m happier than ever these days, I have wonderful friends here and my archery and my swords (at least, once my tendon puts itself right), and I’m just starting to put down roots in this area – the Gort Community Market I helped organise this month is just one example. Do check out the short video I made and posted above! It was absolutely beautiful, so many amazing people and such a perfect space to bring the community together in.

Oh, oh! I also got my new longbow! Jack finished it the other week, and it’s so idiotically beautiful I’m all starry-eyed. It’s very different from my previous bow though, and I’m only just learning to shoot it properly. Of course I can’t resist bringing the longbow to Canada, so I don’t expect to be hitting many targets during the shoot on Sunday. Who cares – I’ll have fun anyway, and I’ll meet some lovely archers I’ve connected with on Facebook over the past weeks and months. I have been practising, at home and in Massbrook last week, so I’m not completely unprepared. Massbrook was gorgeous in all its summery glory, I didn’t take any pictures this time unfortunately, but I do have a picture of the new bow:

In short, I’ve no desire to permanently leave this country. However, it’s easy to get lulled into not doing anything about my living situation because everything else is so damn good right now. Fact is I’m getting older and rents are climbing and I’m further away from owning my own place than ever. Two years ago, on a much higher salary, I tried and failed to get a mortgage in spite of a gilt-edged credit record. A single applicant in their fourties, unheard of! Come back when you’re 25 and married, with two incomes. Yeah.

I have a 3-year plan which consists of getting fully healthy and strong again – I want to be in the best shape of my life by then, the year I turn 50 – and sorting out my living situation. Also my business. There’s seriously nothing more important in life than pursuing passions and being joyful and overflowing with love. People need to take their focus off just making a living and on to what life is really about.

In a way, that’s what my path is all about: Keep nourishing the joy, passion, and love, and at the same time making the mundane parts of life work for me, too. The great thing about it is that I’m starting out in a position of love and joy; there’s no pain I need to overcome or a lack I need to fill. It’s always good to start making changes from a position of strength and love, rather than desperation.

It’s going to be interesting.

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