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As is becoming a distressing habit of mine, I was awake for half the night last night. And now, I'm not operating the best in work. But I'm here and keeping things on a (mostly) even keel. Some of the things that are worrying me?
Yes, these are the things that keep me awake at 2am. And I can't really guarantee calm awaits. But I can offer some things that help:
So, look, I know I'm basing my email on the things that are bothering me this week. But I hope some of the options listed above might help people. And y'know - remember to breathe and no one ever said on their deathbed "I wish I'd spent more time at the office". (and yes, reminding myself as well!) Bríd libh Órlagh P. S. Don't forget to sign up for Brigid for Writers before Saturday!! Check out the links below: Patreon Website |
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.
There's one thing I've carried from my Catholic upbringing into everything I do now. I've never been able to leave it behind — and honestly, I've stopped trying. Candles. In the Catholic tradition, lighting a candle is an act of prayer. You light it for someone. You light it as petition or thanksgiving or remembrance. There are rules about when and where and why. I know all of them. I grew up with all of them. These days, I light candles for Brigid. For the Dagda. At the turning of the...
For a long time, I thought being a pagan Catholic meant I existed in a category of one. I worked with Brigid. I lit candles for Mary. I had a complicated, deeply personal relationship with Saint Thérèse. And I also worked with the old Irish gods, followed the wheel of the year, and did things that would have raised eyebrows in the parish and in the coven alike. I thought that meant I had to hide. That there was no community for someone like me - someone who hadn't made a clean break, who...
The religion I grew up in had a lot to say about women's bodies. Keep yourself pure. Guard your worth. The messaging was relentless and specific, and it came with vivid illustrations - a used piece of chewing gum, a heart passed from hand to hand until it was battered beyond recognition. The point was clear: your value as a woman was bound up in your body, and that value could be lost. Damaged. Given away. I absorbed all of that. Most of us did. And what it left behind, once I'd walked away...