sweeping the temple

burn out | rest | wisdom of the land | taking a break

Hello dear friends,
This will be my last post for two weeks. When I return I’ll be sharing this space for the month of January with some wise women who will help me explore ideas around ebb, rest, fallow times. Read on to learn why I’m discovering these are so, so important.
Layla x

Last week I took three days away alone. I planned to do lots of writing. Here’s how that panned out…!

Day One
I’m writing this to you from a friend’s house right on the edge of the Atlantic ocean in Co. Sligo. I drove down here yesterday, arriving in the dark. I was the first to be here since the huge storm and so I fumbled around for a time working out the heating, rescuing food from the freezer, finding the trip switch that had gone, making hot water bottles. This morning I woke to a warm house at 8:50 am, three hours later than I usually rise. I’ve been very tired it seems…

I came down for three days to write, think about what I’d like to share with you all here on Substack next year, recharge before what will be a tough old Christmas after the loss we had earlier this year. It was super hard to leave, I nearly didn’t come - so much to do before Christmas, the handover to my husband nearly broke my brain, two of my kids were sick, I had to drive my father’s electric car nearly 300 kilometres across the country charging as I went… but I did it, I made it, I’m here.

It’s nearly midday now and so far I’ve managed to make some coffee and watch three and a half episodes of Bad Sisters. I’ve written not a word in my journal. I’ve read not a word of the three books I’ve brought. I’ve thought of nothing I’d like to share with you all next year. I have not had a swim in the giant waves. I have not walked the beach, I haven’t set foot outside the front door. I’m typing this to you from bed. I’ve eaten quite a lot of chocolate.

still in bed, watching Bad Sisters, googling Sharon Horgan’s green cardigan

I did make it out to the beach eventually in the afternoon. A long walk, a wild baltic dip and a few moments watching a brown stallion cantering in circles in the sand. Back in bed now eating more chocolate and writing this post / sneaking more Bad Sisters episodes...!

Day Two
I’m realising that I probably won’t be writing very much on this trip. I will definitely finish Bad Sisters, I’ve already finished all the chocolate. I slept again this morning until 8:45am, woken by my kids calling me to show me where the elf had hidden last night. I have so so little in the tank.

I read

Clover Stroud

’s article about burn out. So much of it rings true. It is impossible to just shut off. Even here, 5 hours away from my family I’ve helped my son with his little buddy book design on Canva, sorted all Santa gifts, liaised with my family about all their gifts for the kids, rearranged haircuts for the three of them after cancelling at another salon due to the sickness, paid the final installment of my daughters dance trip, arranged their Friday night activity schedule, checked in with the dog walker, checked in my husband has paid for the teachers present, and on and on, you get the picture …

After doing much of the above admin this morning, I went on what my friend and wisdom weaver Mari Kennedy (you can listen to my conversation with her here) calls an Immram - a wander in nature with an intentional question, an openness to being allured, tod what catches the corner of your eye, using what the Celtic tradition called ‘silver branch perception’, using our attunement to nature and our feminine, intuitive selves.

I came back from the walk with a clear understanding that I needed to allow myself sit and be in the quieter rock pools and gentler gullies of life for a time, rather than trying always to navigate the busy waters of mainstream life. These quieter less ostensibly exciting places, I was shown, hold very rich treasures if I allow myself leave the beaten path, stop following (literally!) the mainstream, and be open and curious enough.

This is the river flowing into the sea that told me, eh, Layla, stop trying to cross me, head over to the rock pools instead…

so much beauty and energy in these tiny tiny spaces

As I drove down the dark country roads to get here on Tuesday evening, I listened to a voice message from a friend of mine in Berlin. She told me about an interview she had been listening to with Tilda Swinton. Swinton spoke about the fallow times when she was caring for family, not out working, as times when she was ‘sweeping the floors of the temple and keeping the candles lit.’

How beautiful is that?

That is what I feel it is time to do for a little while now.

Sweep the floors of the temple and keep the candles lit.

I’ll be taking a complete break for two weeks now, to be with family, walk in the woods, get out by the sea, eat lots of Christmas cake, play with my kids, watch movies.

Beauty & Bone will be back on January 10th with the first of three guest posts from three wonderful women. They will be talking from different perspectives about ideas around rest, fallow times, ebb.

These posts will be free to read, but each guest will share a simple prompt or practice that will be available to paid subscribers as well. This is my invitation for you all to find ways to invite ebb, invite an exhale, allow in some rest.

On January 10th

Chloe George

will write about what rest actually is and why we so often find it so hard to do.

On January 17th

Lauren Barber

will chat to me about how Human Design has helped both of us to be more easeful and at rest in our lives.

On January 24th

Clare Mulvany

will write about ebb and creativity and the importance of one for the other.

I’ll still be checking in for January, but these women will be holding the space too.

I’ll be using the quieter month to continue to rest a little more, as well as working on my book. I have eight days away at a writers retreat planned, which I will write to you about in the new year at some point, because it feels like an enormous milestone in my life.

I am learning slowly that it is impossible to constantly be in output mode. That we need, too, to fill the well, keep those candles lit.

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
-Mary Oliver

There is by now quite an amount of work I’ve written in the archive and on the podcast, so you are so welcome to spend some time browsing through that while I’m away, too :

Ok, thank you so much friends,

I hope you all find glimmers and sparks and alcoves and nooks and crannys of rest and peace and joy over the coming weeks,

Layla xx