I'm dedicated to helping women in particular develop their spiritual path in life. I'm focused heavily on Brigid in Ireland, although not all my followers are! I teach, speak, coach and mentor people to help them along their own individual path, based on what lore we have, but also allowing for each individual path to develop as it needs to.
A day late (which, honestly, fits)
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This post is a day late. I'm not going to pretend that's not a little funny given what it's actually about. Some of ye might have noticed things have been quieter here than usual, and when I did post, it maybe didn't quite sound like me. The honest reason: I started asking AI to help optimise things for SEO, trying to get found in the searches. And that's exactly what happened - it got optimised, and it stopped sounding like me. Which is kind of the bloody point, isn't it. But underneath that, the real reason is simpler. I wasn't well. For a lot of this year, I've been struggling - and while the Forge isn't the day job, so it's easy to let it slide first, I let a lot more than that slip too. This week's post is the honest version of what that actually looked like, and the moment that finally made me stop and look properly. It comes back to something I don't practise nearly as often as I teach it: Know Yourself. Next week, I'll tell you what the reset actually looked like. Bríd libh Órlagh Check out the links below: Website |
Hi, I'm Orlagh, of Brigid's Forge
I'm dedicated to helping women in particular develop their spiritual path in life. I'm focused heavily on Brigid in Ireland, although not all my followers are! I teach, speak, coach and mentor people to help them along their own individual path, based on what lore we have, but also allowing for each individual path to develop as it needs to.
So this week's post is about the three marks of a poet, imbas forosnai, teinm laeda, dichetal do chennaib - and the whole time I was writing it, my engineer brain was sitting in the corner with its arms crossed going "prove it." That's the fight I actually want to talk to you about today. Not the poet stuff, the fight underneath it. I'm a Chartered Engineer. Twenty-four years of it. I need things to check out, to be testable, to have a mechanism I can point to and say "this is why this...
After the last two weeks, I figured we all needed this one: Joy. Yes - step three on Brigid's Path, the one most of us skip straight past. This week I talk about why joy and discipline aren't actually opposites, what a trampoline and some questionable neighbours taught me about it, and why ten minutes a day - hail, rain, or shine - turned out to matter more than I expected. There's even a bit of proper research in there. And a Mayo GAA reference. (Listen, you can be completely not interested...
You know that feeling when a new notebook feels like it's going to fix everything? I bought one anyway. Special trip to Eason's and all. Last week I told ye about the twentieth night - the moment I finally admitted things weren't working. This week's post is what I actually did about it: a list of all the little things that had been bothering me, one thing crossed off each day, whether that was hours spent building a trampoline (sorry, neighbours) or two minutes sewing on a button. It wasn't...