I have a year of tough priorities ahead. So much to accomplish and very little time (mainly because of a sweet and chubby little one). It will be a continous lesson in saying no. Family and work, there won’t be room for much else. That’s ok. I don’t believe much in balance anymore. I
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My mother baked all our bread when I was a child. She made cookies that were small works of art, and twirled cinnamon buns like nobody’s business. She embroidered Christmas tablecloths, made pancakes for all the kids in the neighbourhood and served homemade strawberry jam to go with it. She sewed the pants we wore
My second business launch didn’t go according to plans. And I had a lot planned. Good stuff: sessions, workshops, webshop, it was all coming together that February a few years ago. Premises booked, schedules set, posters illustrated, clients on a waiting list. After more than six months of preparation, writing and hustling, it was
An autumn day, twenty five years ago, I sat watching the old poplars outside my window sway in the wind. I had just turned eighteen. The poplars grew outside the hospital building, outside the psychiatric ward where I was locked up, against my will, because I was considered a danger to myself. A failed
- In search of a simpler life
- Why I ditched a beautiful career
- Live it before you preach it
- Why I write about sexual violence on a blog about creativity
- If you need permission to rest
- Confessions of an unprofitable human being
- How to burn a little brighter. Or, the end of a favourite myth
- The power of words – a letter from the Psych Ward