or something.

I have a dream for my life. It involves other people, investing in their lives and creating community, friendship and love.

It involves hospitality, creating safe spaces for those who might otherwise not have a space to call home. I’m hoping that my home will be a home for teenagers in long term care, and or for those just ageing out of care. I want to create a space too that is home for those who have been called into the mission field and need somewhere to call home for a while. I want to gather folks who are committed to radical hospitality and the creation of safe spaces, who have a yearning in their soul to see the abandoned found. I want to create a space that nurtures my creativity, and therefore allows others to explore and nurture their creativity.

what this exactly looks like, feels like, tastes smells and sounds like… I don’t really know. for now, though, I am putting my energy and resources into creating a foundation for this future. I am investing in the things that I want to be successful at later. I am seeking opportunities to learn more about myself, in order to be realistic in planning for this future. I am an optimist, and I am a realist.

I’m trying really hard to notice my life more. I get so quickly sucked into social media- where as we all know, you can scroll and scroll and scroll and nothing has been accomplished. Less often than I’d like a connection is made, but generally it’s a waste of my time and energy. It takes real intention and effort to make changes in your life. Small steps that are taken every day, slowly bringing us closer to our goals. I’m trying to notice those small steps and to make sure that they are on a path I want to follow.

Here’s to noticing, listening and creating.

above all, here’s to dreaming.



The weight of the thing. 

I’m a compulsive collector of stones. Every beach I go to, I pick up at least one. There are stones on my mantelpiece, my chest of drawers, my kitchen nooks, in my bag, in the pockets of jackets I haven’t worn for a while, and my car. 

My Dad has been known to remove stones from dashboards before driving a vehicle belonging to (or even just being borrowed by) me. 

I took a trip up further north, to spend a day on beaches (yes in April in scotland. I took lots of layers too), sampling ice cream, and pottering about in antique shops. I collected a few new stones too. Some of which have only made it as far as the back seat of the car. 

I forget how heavy stones are, individually they’re not a big deal, but get two or three together and it starts to weigh you down. More than that and you really feel it as you’re walking to your destination. 

So often I collect things in my life the same way. Stones ground you, and sometimes I let the experiences and conversations and idle chit chat so the same. I ignore the meat of the thing, I hold right to the piece that makes me feel safe and refuse to let go, even if it would be good for me, or for you. I get to choose to put things down, and yet so often I choose not to. This lent was supposed to be about letting go of some of the physical clutter that is surrounding me, and to a degree, yes, that happened. On a much broader scale, no – i cling to the clutter. 

I’m not sure what this collection of stones says about me, but it’s a habit I’m more mindful of than ever before.