
www.patreon.com/posts/109634649
With Summer finally here, I’ve been able to slow down and rest and write.
I’ve been spending some quality time over on my Patreon page.
I’ve just shared about my current adventures . Check it out above.

www.patreon.com/posts/109634649
With Summer finally here, I’ve been able to slow down and rest and write.
I’ve been spending some quality time over on my Patreon page.
I’ve just shared about my current adventures . Check it out above.
is a happy path



The weight of our darkness, stress, and anxiety can sometimes overpower us—but in our heavy moments, it’s crucial to remember that our worthiness remains intact, even when we falter.
Alex Elle


Happy New Year! Yes I know January 1st 2024 has come and gone. And yes I know it’s probably well past the time period to be wishing anyone, anywhere a happy new year. But I don’t care. This is when I’m coming back to the website, the blog, the public domain. March 2024.
I didn’t plan it as I didn’t think it would be possible this year what with my commitments all over the place but it does feel like that I’ve been on retreat for the last 3 months; the first 3 months of 2024. What with one thing or another; illness, lack of energy, lack of focus, lack of motivation, I’ve had to just ease myself into this year. And I still don’t feel that I’m fully present to this time period yet, but I’m getting there.
I had to intentionally put this into my to -do list today; to turn up here and write something. There’s been the lack of motivation and energy thing but there’s also been a block, or limitations I’ve been putting on myself in term of creating here or anywhere. I’ve been caught in a loop of asking myself, what have I got to say? What can I say as the world is falling apart? Nothing seemed/seems enough. I wasn’t good enough. So let’s stay hidden and quiet and safe, I convinced myself.
But there is only so long that I can live with myself doing/ being this/that. I was getting comfortable being uncomfortable or getting comfortable in numbing myself to the uncomfortable feelings as a means of getting by and through and over and under. To just breathe.
I return today simply to cross something off my to-do list. But in many ways it is so much more than just that. I’m back, I’m ascending out of the ashes into some kind of flame. Or at least the pilot light is back on in terms of writing/ being here/ turning up.
One thing that has been on a constant burn, a low humming of heat over these last 4 or 5 months has been my visual journaling practice. The image above was created today at my table in the corner of my bedroom where I’ve gotten into the habit of turning up daily just to see what wants to appear. I’ve been listening to the ancestors, the guides who want to speak. I’ve been enjoying the process.
I’ll be sharing some more visual journal spreads in the coming days as well as curating a new portfolio to archive them all in one place as if I don’t archive my creative practice, who else will?
But more to come. I’m just happy to be back here.
The Glencoe region of Scotland has always held a special place in my heart. When the kids were little, we’d do driving tours up there, jumping from one Premier Inn to another really just to satisfy my own cravings for the Scottish landscape. The wide open spaces, the lochs and glens and mountains.
I created a self-imposed retreat in November when other plans fell through. I took my time to drive into the highlands knowing I was returning to my favourite hotel out there. Kinghouse Hotel, Glencoe.
The plan was simple to rest, walk and create. And I wasn’t disappointed by the scenery, the service, the weather or the creativity.
It was gift to just focus on me and my creativity. A luxury I was truly grateful for. I just want to do it again and again and again.
I fell in love with a mountain and glen up there. So I’ll have to return if we’re going courting!


I’ve been receiving emails from newsletters that I subscribe to detailing end of year round ups and reflections. And I’m not sure I’m ready yet to step into that energy. I’m still living the year in front of me now – day by day. To let me just linger in the moments. Linger in the awareness of time passing. Winter’s here and the geese are getting fat an all that. But even in these times of worry, brutality and violence, let us to a moment to breathe and give thanks.
How do you practice self-care?
As we near the end of June, I near the end of my current visual journal. This beauty has seen me through some ups and downs these past two months, as I’ve navigated major life changes and shifts.
Being able to keep coming back to the page in order to work out my shit, my internal shit, before I meet all the external shit is a gift. Is a massive gift I take for myself in the name of self-care.
Before visual journaling came along, I did keep a journal but it was maybe a lined notebook sometimes plain paper and pen. Simple and effective and got me through a lot of life’s changes.
But when 2015 came along and my life changed forever, words on the plain page would never be enough again. Could never be enough to express all the turbulence and upheavals within my life. I needed more and I also needed to feel safe.
So paints and images and quotes and collage and photography and text came together, merged and played off of one another to provide the time and space and safety I needed to have an ongoing, developing and becoming conversation with myself.
I feel blessed now to know I get to do this / {BE} this daily. I give myself the opportunity to get off this merry-go-round of life and take deeper breaths, while being in communion with myself, checking in on myself, making sure I’m okay and if not what I need to do in order to get back to being okay. But all in good time and a few visual journal spreads later.
This is one of my self-care practices which I am truly grateful for.
I’ll be sharing some more spreads, images and reflections on this process over the summer as this practice is multifaceted in terms of all the goodness of offers me. I gain insight, clarity and love in the present moment of the practice. But I also gain a lot of joy in the looking back over pages, reliving the feelings within my body of the practice. I also gain pleasure from sharing this practice with others.
Check out further posts to come.
Sheree may you offer yourself light
Sheree may you offer yourself grace
Sheree may you offer yourself rest
Sheree may you offer yourself love
Sheree may you offer yourself ease
Sheree may you offer yourself softness
Sheree may you offer yourself mistakes
Sheree may you offer yourself movement
Sheree may you offer yourself a deep clean
Sheree may you offer yourself hope
Sheree may you offer yourself deep breaths
Sheree may you offer yourself adventure
Sheree may you offer yourself surrender
Sheree may you offer yourself healing


As it stands I’ve completed 20 miles of the 52.4 miles for the month of May. Nearly half way there and not even half way through the month yet. So pleased with how I’m moving.

I’ve mentioned my mum and walking , but she’s not my only inspiration when it comes to putting one foot in front of another.

At this time of year when growing up in Bradford, May light nights and rising temperatures, after tea ( as I am a Yorkshire lass!), each evening we would go out for walks. Dad and Mum, sis and me.

Of course I didn’t want to do it. It felt like a punishment. A cruel exercise is working out our energy before bedtime. How I hated going to be in the light nights.

We set out from our maisonette flat, take the bridge over the dual carriage way, to walk up the hill past the textile factories and into the rabbit warren estates of ‘Little Jamaica’.

My only joys of these evening walks, we’re picking up scraps of fur from the toy making factories and lining my pockets with them so I could stroke their softness while I walked.

The only other joy was if we called in Dad and Mum’s friend Beverley who lived over on the other side of the road, who had a son called Ivor, that I quite liked. He had Thunderbirds toys I liked to play with too.

These evening walks were something I endured. Something to get through. Now as I’m older, appreciating the light nights for walks out, I’m inflicting the same ritual on my daughter when she’s staying with me. Ignoring her complaints and marching her out the door.

And on those evenings that I walk alone, covering more miles and sinking deeper into my body and the present moment, no longer needed are scraps of fur in my pocket to keep me walking.

The act of walking itself, being outside with all nature has to offer, with heart and soul open is enough to feel joy and gratitude and light.