Vienda Maria

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  • are you enabling someone you love?

    what you’re responsible for. + what NOT

    It’s officially 2025, and while some folks are diving headfirst into goal-setting and vision boards, others might just be trying to remember where they left their coffee. Wherever you’re at, it’s perfectly fine. Honouring your own rhythm is a beautiful thing. And while you might not be feeling the “new year, new me” vibes just yet, this could be the perfect time to hit reset on some sneaky habits—like enabling.

    It’s been a hot topic in my little corner of the universe lately.

    Having grown up in an emotionally unsafe environment, I was no stranger to enabling behaviours, as these dynamics often blur boundaries and foster a pattern of prioritising others’ needs, emotions, or dysfunctions over one’s own well-being, perpetuating cycles of dependency and unhealthy interactions.

    It took me years to unlearn this pattern, a process that involved becoming deeply discerning about what was mine to carry and what wasn’t, and learning to step back, allowing others to take self-responsibility by resisting the urge to react or intervene in their experiences.

    I thought, to celebrate the start of this new calendar year, you might like to break free from that pattern too, if it sounds familiar.

    Let me show you how!

    what is enabling?

    Enabling is like being someone’s personal life jacket—except they’re perfectly capable of swimming, and now you’re both exhausted. 

    It’s when you step in to solve someone else’s problems, fix their mistakes, or shield them from the natural consequences of their actions. At first, it feels helpful (you’re just being a good friend/partner/parent, right?), but over time, it creates a pattern where they lean on you instead of stepping up. Meanwhile, you’re left wondering why you’re so drained and why they’re not learning to handle their own stuff. Sound familiar?

    Enabling can feel like love wrapped in concern, but it often hides a deeper fear: that they might fail or face discomfort. By stepping in, you may inadvertently steal the opportunity for them to grow and build resilience. 

    Think of it this way: if you’re always the one baking the cake, how will they ever learn to crack an egg?

    what you’re responsible for

    (aka: The “Handle Your Own Stuff” List)

    1. Your health and healing.
    Nobody else can drink your green smoothie, book your therapy appointment, or stretch out that lower back. Sure, someone can suggest a healthier routine or offer support, but it’s on you to make the choices that support your well-being. Pro tip: Own it, and celebrate even the smallest steps forward.

    2. Your decisions.
    Ever agreed to something you didn’t want to do, then fumed about it later? That’s on you, my friend. Whether it’s choosing a new career path or deciding not to answer a 10 p.m. text, your decisions are yours to make. The beauty here? You’re in charge—even if you make a mistake, you get to learn from it.

    3. Your commitments.
    Said you’d do something? Then do it, or renegotiate with honesty. If you promised to help with a project but now realize you’re overwhelmed, it’s your responsibility to speak up. Holding your word—or adjusting it with integrity—is the backbone of trust.

    4. Your relationships.
    Every relationship is a two-way street, but you’re responsible for your lane. That means communicating honestly, owning your role in conflicts, and recognising when it’s time to pour in love—or to step away. It also means not projecting your expectations onto someone else (ouch, I know).

    5. Your personal space.
    From the clutter in your home to the vibe you create, your environment reflects how you care for yourself. Whether it’s finally tackling that junk drawer or adding a candle that makes your living room feel like a spa, this one’s all on you. And yes, this includes asking for help when needed.

    6. Your personal growth.
    Change doesn’t arrive on your doorstep like a surprise Amazon package. If you’re stuck, it’s on you to take the first step. Whether it’s seeking guidance, ending something toxic, or starting that hobby you’ve been talking about for years, you’re the one who needs to pull the trigger.

    7. Your happiness.
    Waiting for someone else to make you happy is like waiting for your cat to clean the litter box. Danger-baby isn’t doing it, and neither is anyone else. The secret? You’re fully capable of creating joy for yourself—start small and watch it grow.

    what you’re not responsible for

    (aka: The “Put That Down, It’s Not Yours” List)

    1. Someone else’s healing.
    You can offer a supportive hand, share tools, or hold space, but you’re not their healer. Whether it’s a friend processing heartbreak or a sibling stuck in their patterns, their healing journey belongs to them. Trying to take it on will only drain you both.

    2. Their decisions.
    Ever tried to “fix” someone’s choices because you can’t bear to watch them struggle? Let it go. Your advice (when invited) is valuable, but you’re not the director of someone else’s life. Let them call the shots—and learn from the consequences.

    3. Their happiness.
    No matter how much you love someone, you can’t fill the gaps in their joy. Whether it’s a partner, child, or friend, their contentment is their own work. Yours is to love and support them, not to carry the responsibility for their inner world.

    4. Their messes (literal or metaphorical).
    If they didn’t pay their parking ticket, left dishes in the sink, or caused drama at work, that’s their mess to clean. If you’re always stepping in to save the day, you’re robbing them of the chance to grow and take ownership of their actions.

    5. Their learning process.
    Growth is a beautiful, messy thing, and everyone’s path looks different. Trying to micromanage someone’s progress (or save them from mistakes) isn’t helping—it’s holding them back. Trust their ability to figure it out—they’ll thank you later.

    let’s get real: a quick example

    You’ve got a friend who’s always late. Every. Single. Time. You try “helping” by texting reminders, calling them 15 minutes beforehand, or even picking them up. Guess what? They’re still late. You’re exhausted, they’re still tardy, and now you’re resentful. Why? Because you’re trying to fix something that’s not yours to fix.

    Instead, take a step back. Let them be late. If it means missing the movie previews or skipping the event, so be it. They’ll either learn the value of punctuality—or not. Either way, it’s not your circus, not your monkeys.

    how to tell if you’re enabling

    Ask yourself:

    • Do I feel drained every time I help?
    • Am I more invested in their success than they are?
    • Is this something they could reasonably handle themselves?

    If the answer is yes, you’re likely enabling.

    letting go is the best gift

    When you stop enabling, you give others the chance to grow. 

    You also free up your own energy to focus on what is yours. Imagine how much lighter you’ll feel when you stop carrying someone else’s load.

    As we step into 2025, I invite you to honour your energy. 

    Set boundaries, embrace personal responsibility, and let others do the same.

  • 2024: the year I stopped planning & started living

    An end-of-year wrap up including a journey through 3 continents, my biggest lessons, 4 free life-changing courses for you & raw answers to your most asked questions.

    I began 2024 floating in the South Atlantic Ocean off the African coast, deliberately empty of resolutions. No intentions. No ‘word of the year.’ No lofty ambitions to chase. Just a simple commitment to living life fully, moment by moment.

    Life, as it turned out, had its own master plan. My role was simply to keep saying “yes” – applying the wisdom I’d shared in pieces like “cycle girlie” along the way.

    Before I knew it, I found myself as a caregiver to two small boys, trudging through muddy, enchanted forests in the U.K. for six months. It was messy, beautiful, and completely unexpected.

    Driven by my deepening desire to embrace idleness – a conscious rebellion against hustle culture, urgency addiction, and capitalism’s endless demands – I veered toward Spain. But life had other plans. Two weeks of confronting patriarchal structures (which, yes, thoroughly sucked) somehow landed me in Sicily’s warm embrace.

    Then came another sharp turn: Portugal. And within two weeks, as if life was orchestrating a romance novel, I fell in love.

    Looking back, I realise that some years aren’t meant for vision boards and carefully plotted goals. 

    Some years are cosmic dance lessons, where life itself becomes the choreographer. The magic happens when I loosen my grip on carefully constructed plans and allow myself to be carried by life’s current. 

    Every unexpected turn – from African shores to English forests, from Spanish confrontations to Portuguese romance – was a reminder that life’s wisdom far exceeds my limited imagination of what’s possible. 

    When I surrender to this flow, I find myself exactly where I need to be, even if it’s nowhere I ever planned to go. And yet, this surrender to life’s flow has led me to perfect clarity about what’s next. 

    As 2025 approaches, I’m filled with electric excitement about bold new directions — particularly a complete reimagining of my business structures — and the pursuit of new dreams. 

    Watch this space! I am delighted to take you with me on this journey.

    I needed to let go completely to discover what truly sets my soul on fire. That’s exactly what 2024 taught me, and now I’m ready to chase the visions that make my heart race and my spirit soar.

    Speaking of which, I want to invite you to join me as we turn the page into a new calendar year.

    I’ve made four of my transformative courses freely available on YouTube for you:

    SOVEREIGN – A 6-part liberation journey designed to help you break free from limiting beliefs and patterns. Using four simple steps, you’ll learn to identify and clear the blocks holding you back. *If you’re ready to claim your freedom, this class is calling your name.*

    INTUIMETHOD – This 15-day interactive experience is your practical guide to mastering intuition and universal connection. Through daily videos, you’ll develop a reliable method for accessing, trusting, and acting on your inner wisdom while tackling the core obstacles between you and your soul’s path.

    ON PURPOSE – Forget searching for purpose – let’s find aliveness instead. This masterclass offers a refreshing 4-step process to discover meaning in your life. Because the real question isn’t “What’s my purpose?” but “How can I live with deeper significance?”

    PAUSE & PIVOT – An 8-lesson journey into creating your own graceful daily routine. Learn how to align your daily practices with your core values and non-negotiables, understanding that different days call for different approaches to life.

    And for those of you feeling called to bring more magic and intention into your daily life – I have something close to my heart for you. 

    My beloved Plannher…

    a planner-and-journal-in one specifically designed for the intuitive, magical woman you are, is available in its final print run. This isn’t just another planner – it’s a sacred space for your dreams, your intuitive hits, your magical moments, and your practical plans to weave together.

    I won’t be creating more once this batch finds their homes, so if you’ve been feeling that nudge to elevate how you plan and dream… this is your moment. 

    As we stand on the threshold of a new year, gifting yourself this tool is more than a purchase – it’s a commitment to your future self, a declaration that you’re ready to plan with both purpose and magic.

    Reply here or DM me for yours.

    your questions answered

    Recently, I opened up my Instagram for an AMA (Ask Me Anything), and your questions touched me deeply. They reflect so much of what we’re all navigating – from setting intentions mindfully to finding love, from moving through grief to embracing self-compassion. 

    Here are my thoughts on some of these beautiful questions…

    1. On Setting Intentions for 2025

    “How can we set intentions about how we want to feel in 2025, rather than just making resolutions?”

    Instead of creating a rigid list of goals, try this: Close your eyes and imagine yourself on December 31st, 2025. How do you want to feel in your body, your spirit, your relationships? What sensations do you want to experience daily? Maybe it’s feeling grounded and peaceful, or perhaps alive and electric with creativity. Let these desired feelings guide your choices rather than external measures of success.

    2. On Trust and Surrender

    “Can you speak about letting go of expectations and trusting the path?”

    Letting go of expectations has been my greatest teacher this year. Trust isn’t about knowing the outcome – it’s about believing in your ability to handle whatever comes. Start small: practice releasing control in tiny moments, notice how life flows more easily when you loosen your grip. The path reveals itself one step at a time.

    3. On Navigating Grief

    “How do you move through grief during the holiday season?”

    Grief during the holidays feels especially heavy because joy and sorrow dance so closely together. Honour your grief as a reflection of your love. Create small rituals to acknowledge both what was and what is. Light a candle, write letters, cry when you need to. Remember that healing isn’t linear – some days will be harder than others, and that’s perfectly okay.

    4. On Writing Practice

    “Any advice for starting and growing a writing practice?”

    Start before you feel ready. Write for yourself first, without judgment. Set aside sacred time – even just 10 minutes daily – where you meet yourself on the page. Don’t edit as you write; let it flow raw and real. Your voice will emerge naturally through consistency and courage.

    You might also enjoy my article: everything I know about how to write…

    5. On Finding Love

    “Would you share your journey of finding love?”

    After focusing on my relationship with myself, nurturing my own growth, and getting clear about my non-negotiables, love appeared naturally. Not as a chase or a game, but as a recognition of souls. I’ll devote a longer article on this in the future.

    6. On Course Creation

    “What’s your biggest lesson after years of creating courses?”

    The biggest lesson? Authenticity over perfection, always. People don’t connect with polished perfection – they connect with genuine sharing, with vulnerability, with real stories of transformation. Every course I’ve created has taught me to trust my unique way of seeing and sharing.

    7. On Life’s Flow

    “How do you relax into just trusting life and yourself? How do you find the confidence to believe that life feels good?”

    It’s a daily practice of choosing trust over fear. Build evidence: keep a journal of all the times life worked out better than you could have planned. Notice the synchronicities, the “coincidences,” the magical moments that arise when you relax into flow. Your confidence in life’s goodness grows with each recognized blessing. 

    I share more on this here: how I taught myself to make my own life; here: let go of control: body leads, mind follows; here: not ready; and here: not yet.

    8. On Healing and Love

    “Can you speak about finding true love after disappointment and big heartbreak?”

    Upon request, I have many articles on this topic including: I’ve been heartbroken many times and a 28-step guide to heartbreak 💔

    Heartbreak can be our greatest teacher if we let it. Each disappointment helped me refine what I truly wanted and needed in love. The key is not to close your heart but to keep it open while raising your standards. True love often arrives when we’ve done the work of loving ourselves through the healing process.

    Before I wrap this up, I want to pour my heart out to you. 

    Your presence here, reading these words, sharing this journey – it means everything. The dreams and visions I have brewing for what’s ahead make my heart race with excitement. I can’t wait to unfold them with you, to share all that’s been growing in my mind and heart. 

    This is just the beginning of something beautiful, and I’m so grateful you’re here for it.

  • facial girly

    on beauty, lasers = the very intense, very effective facial treament I had done, & finding love when you look like toast

    My face looked like I had rolled it in coffee grounds. I was swollen like a chipmunk with pillowy under-eye bags you could pack a set of lingerie in.

    “You look so beautiful” he said dreamily staring at me from across the sofa. This man is clearly insane/in love, I thought to myself, mentally calculating how many more hours until the swelling would subside enough for me to venture out in public again.

    The day before I had been to see a dermatologist in Lisbon to get the first of three BBL Forever Young Light Treatment sessions done to treat some stubborn pigmentation that was steadily corralling into a dense forest of shadows on my forehead peaks and jaw-to-neck areas. Think topographical map of the Himalayas, but in various shades of brown.

    I had spent my 20s feeling invisible to life’s inevitable decomposition running around under an ozone hole in Australia, armed with nothing but youthful invincibility and coconut oil. While I am olive-skinned thanks to my Italian father, I also have a tendency to inconsistent melanin thanks to my Austrian mother – a genetic cocktail that left me with skin that couldn’t quite decide what it wanted to be when it grew up.

    Freckles are cute but brown patches that shadow the skin less so. Am I needlessly vain? Maybe. I spent the past decade repenting for my sins and trying a range of ‘natural’ treatments, becoming something of an unwitting guinea pig for every trendy skincare solution that promised salvation.

    Vitamin C serums did nothing for me except drain my wallet and stain my pillowcases orange. Nor did Living Libations expensive miracle oil Dew Dab, which only succeeded in making me smell like a hippie’s medicine cabinet. Microneedling made my skin plump and luminous but the brown shadows remained, stubbornly unmoved by my thousand tiny sacrificial wounds. Sunscreen kept them in place like a preservative for my shame.

    Every summer the freckles on my nose and cheeks deepened which I loved – they gave me that sun-kissed, carefree look I craved. But so did the uneven patches which I hated. They acted as reminders of the lack of care I had for myself and skin once upon a time, like permanent Post-it notes from my younger self saying “Remember when you thought you were invincible?”

    When I arrived in Portugal 2.5 months ago I made a promise to finally handle the boring parts of self-care: see a gynecologist for my once-every-10-years checkup (lol, please don’t judge, these sorts of things are just not that important to me until they become absolutely necessary), go to the dentist for a clean and to fill two fillings that had fallen and been bothering me (turns out teeth don’t actually heal themselves), book in with a dermatologist, get a haircut. You know, all those adult things that pile up while you’re busy living life.

    At the dermatologist’s office he took a scan of my skin murmuring things like “you have very big pores” (thank you, I hadn’t noticed them in the mirror I torture myself with daily) and “your skin is inflamed” (a polite way of saying my face looked angry at the world). Then he asked me questions about how I felt about it. I told him about the hyperpigmentation. He told me he had the perfect solution. A series of three BBL Forever Young Light treatments. I told him I’d need to do some research on them and would need to think about it, secretly already knowing I’d say yes. Then I had a hydrafacial (highly recommend) with a wonderful beautician who at 55, could be a walking ad for every treatment in the place. I walked out feeling hydrated, glowy and on a perfect skin high.

    That night the man who is now my boyfriend whom I had only met a few times kissed me and on some subconscious level I decided it was because my skin was dewy and delightful like never before. Isn’t it funny how we attribute every good thing that happens to whatever we last did to “improve” ourselves?

    A few days later I contacted the dermatologist’s office and agreed to go ahead with the treatment, my bank account weeping quietly in the corner. To prep I had to put on sunscreen every day twice a day for a month – an Olympic sport level of responsible adulting.

    A week before my next appointment I told my new boyfriend “I have to go to Lisbon for an appointment next Friday. Do you want to come?” trying to sound casual while internally drafting contingency plans for how to hide my face from him afterward.

    “Of course!” he replied, with the enthusiasm of someone who had no idea what they were signing up for. He blocked out his calendar with a big pink rectangle that said 1ST LISBON DATE, making my heart simultaneously melt and cringe at what was to come.

    Inviting him was a mistake.

    Wait. I mean. We had a wonderful time!

    We went to a secret magical cafe in a Theatre overlooking the city (the kind of place that makes you feel like you’re in a Wes Anderson film) and ate delicious fried tofu ramen at Panda Cantina and walked through the Christmas markets, our hands intertwined like we’d been doing this forever. Then we parted ways while I went to my appointment and he sat in a cafe eating cake and reading Murakami’s latest book, living his best main character life while I went off to voluntarily torture myself.

    It’s the moments after this that I regret.

    I had no idea what I was about to put myself through. In retrospect, this is probably why they make you sign waivers – to prevent people like me from dramatically declaring “Nobody told me it would be like this!” afterward.

    First I signed said waiver, which I did not read, because I was already there and going to do it so why should I read it (future me would like to have a word with past me about this decision). And then I was walked into a sterilized room that looked like a cross between a spa and a sci-fi movie set, laid on a table and tucked in with blankets like a beauty treatment burrito.

    Then the beautician silently spread some clear gel all over my face – cold, thick, and abundant enough to make a slug feel at home. She placed tiny speed racing goggles over my eyes that made me feel like a very small, very nervous Formula 1 driver. “Tell me if it hurts too much,” she says with the casual tone of someone who’s about to do something that definitely hurts. “How much is too much?” I ask, already regretting every life choice that led me here. “So much that you can’t stand it.” “Ok” I mumble from underneath a pound of gel, wondering if it’s too late to make a run for it.

    She begins, zapping at specific areas. I smell hair, singed and burnt – my own hair. She finds another tool and runs it across every part of my face, concentrating on the pigmented areas. It stings like angry bees doing the cha-cha on my face. She returns to zapping specific areas. And continues alternating back and forth for an hour, which feels like approximately seven years in beauty treatment time.

    It’s not comfortable but it’s also not unbearable, like a really intense game of “how much do you want perfect skin?” I try to focus on staying relaxed, mentally reciting my skincare mantras: “Beauty is pain,” “No pain no gain,” and “Why did I do this to myself?”

    At the end she softly whispers “All done!” and unwraps me like a Christmas present that’s been returned slightly damaged. As she walks me back to the reception she asks me how my skin feels. “Spicy!” I reply, meaning like I’ve just french-kissed a volcano. She looks at my face more closely and excitedly says “You have the perfect skin for this treatment! All the hyperpigmentation is going to get much much darker over the next few days. And then fall off. I can’t wait to see the results!” Her enthusiasm would be contagious if my face wasn’t currently hosting its own personal inferno.

    I text my boyfriend. I’m so sorry. I’m done now. The appointment had run late. What I really meant was “Please still love me even though I look like I’ve been slow-roasted over a BBQ.”

    Outside I feel foolish and embarrassed, like a child who’s been caught trying on their mother’s makeup – except the makeup is my actual face and it’s screaming for help. I don’t want him to see me like this. He remains tactful and kind and orders us an Uber home, pretending not to notice that I’m trying to hide behind my hair like a sheepish sheepdog.

    The next day, sitting on the sofa across from him, forcefully resisting my desire to run home, to not be seen by the man that I want to be cute and pretty and attractive in front of, he reassures me that with or without the treatment he loves me and thinks I am beautiful. And in that moment, I realise that maybe the real treatment wasn’t the laser at all, but learning to be seen at my worst and still feel loved.

    The days following occur exactly as the beautician suggested. The redness and swelling disappeared, the dark shadows became darker – making me look like I’d tried to apply self-tanner with my eyes closed – I wore sunglasses whenever we went out and hid myself indoors as much as I could, until finally a week later a new skin emerged, like a butterfly from a very expensive chrysalis.

    Tiny invisible pores! Zero pigmentation! Even skin tone! Baby soft! No need to wear makeup ever again! It was like someone had hit the reset button on my face, erasing a decade of sun damage and poor life choices.

    It was a miracle. An expensive, slightly painful miracle, but a miracle nonetheless.

    I never expected the treatment to be so effective. And it’s only the first of three. (My wallet quietly sobs in the corner.)

    I fought with my vanity and insecurities and the shame I had around having vanity and insecurities – that peculiar modern paradox of wanting to look perfect while pretending not to care about looking perfect. I battled with being seen at my worst. I faced unexpected pain. And was rewarded with a 10-year dream: perfect skin. Or at least, perfect enough to make peace with the imperfect journey that got me here.

    As it turns out, sometimes the path to self-acceptance involves a few laser beams and a very understanding boyfriend.

  • I’ve been heartbroken many times

    and there’s only one way to get through it (working title: how to heal after a breakup)

    I still loved him when I left him. The last long-term relationship of mine. Even when the kisses dried up and our lips rasped past each other, more out of habit than affection. Even when the future was hopeless and we knew that our love is not enough.

    The next time I nursed a broken heart, I did everything I could to move on.

    It is 2021. I feel restless in my life and my body. A year of confinement to a small corner of the world is unfamiliar to me. I keep trying to convince myself that I chose this. That this is good for me. That it has already taught me so much. That this too will pass.

    It is the last day of lockdown in the U.K. I will myself to go outside.

    I pull on leggings and layers, Spring has not warmed this part of the world enough yet. I tie the laces on my trainers. No headphones, I want to hear the world today. I walk to the sea and turn left. Past crowds of people in their Sunday best and worst, past a cute skater girl in baggy jeans and a tie-dye t-shirt, past a dozen fish and chip stands, past new outdoor seating and eating spaces prepared for the new world that begins tomorrow.

    The seafront feels like the day before a festival, the carousel being tested and repaired, the restaurants offering tents set up with carpets to provide outdoor dining options. I walk until my legs start to ache and the path ends at a hidden car park filled with mobile homes and caravans and gypsy girls in long skirts eating from metal plates sitting on the black asphalt.

    They remind me of a decade past when I used to live like them and give me heady nostalgia for a life filled with the freedom of few cares beyond the next meal and the next place to sleep.

    Here, I smile at them and wave, and spin around to return to the life I call my own.

    There, I made a pact not to throw myself into love as easily next time.

    Heartbreak feels like a slow unravelling.

    The rhythm of your thoughts shifts; the things that once made sense no longer do.

    It’s disorienting, like trying to find your footing on unsteady ground. And while it’s tempting to escape — to distract yourself with noise, busyness, or fleeting moments of comfort — the truth is, heartbreak doesn’t let you run.

    The only way out is through.

    And the only way through is this: to take all the love, care, and thought you poured into someone else and pour it back into yourself.

    Guess, for a moment, how much of yourself you gave away.

    How your thoughts revolved around their needs, their dreams, their happiness. How you moulded parts of your life to fit theirs, sometimes without even noticing. It’s so easy to lose yourself in another person, to blur the lines between where you end and they begin.

    And when it ends, and those ties are severed, you’re left untethered — adrift, searching for the pieces of yourself you gave away.

    The only way to untangle yourself from that is to take all that focus, all that love, all that energy, and pour it back into you. Not in fragments, but wholly, deliberately, and with the same intensity you once reserved for them.

    What dreams of your own need championing? What parts of your happiness have gone ignored? What would it look like to make yourself the centre of your world again?

    Start there, and rebuild.

    Start with the essentials.

    Heartbreak is heavy, and it takes a toll on the body as much as the soul. Sleep when you can. Nourish yourself, even if all you can manage are small, simple meals. Let your body move, whether that’s walking aimlessly until the ache subsides or finding a quiet space to stretch and feel your breath steadying. These small acts may not feel profound, but they are the roots of healing — tender reminders to yourself that you are worth tending to.

    Turn inward.

    Heartbreak thrives on loops — the endless replay of what was said, what wasn’t, what could have been. Rather than fighting these thoughts, give your mind something else to hold. Learn something new. Return to something old you loved but abandoned. Write, even if the words don’t make sense. Read stories that inspire you. Let your curiosity lead you, gently coaxing your attention away from the wound and towards possibility.

    Nurture your heart.

    Heartbreak offers renewal. Reconnect with the parts of your life that aren’t tied to what you’ve lost. Seek out the people who see you, the ones who remind you of who you were before. Laugh with them, even if it feels strained at first. If you’re lucky enough to have someone who will simply sit beside you in silence, let them. If you don’t, find small moments of connection elsewhere — a conversation with a kind stranger, a shared glance with someone who understands. These moments, however fleeting, are reminders that the world hasn’t stopped spinning and that it still holds beauty for you.

     

    There isn’t a quick fix. Healing from heartbreak is an act of patience and devotion. Some days, you’ll feel strong — alive, even — and others will pull you back under. Every time you choose to redirect your love inward, you’re rebuilding. Slowly, quietly, but undeniably.

    And one day, without even realising it, you’ll notice that the ache has softened.

    You’ll look around at the life you’ve been creating and see something remarkable: a version of yourself who is not only whole but expansive. A self who knows how to love deeply, but now understands how to be loved in return — starting from within.

    Keep going. For as long as it takes. Until it stops hurting.

    It’s the only way.

  • 3 lessons…

    to remain centred and grounded no matter what is happening around you.

    It’s the last day of October 2024. The veil is thin. The spirits and ancestors are calling my name.

    I ask them.

    What do I need to know, for the next steps of my life, now?

    They reply in chorus.

    What will I sacrifice to receive the gifts I long for:
    love,
    truth and
    happiness?

    I always sacrifice the same thing.

    The illusion of certainty, of a guaranteed reality, a blind belief in absolutes.

    I sacrifice the comforting fantasy that I understand the world and know what will come next. In doing so I am liberated from despair and disbelief every time the world changes.

    Because when you are so close to the nexus of your soul it’s easy to remain centred and grounded no matter what is happening around you.

    They gift me 3 lessons.

    ☾

    1. Love

    The spiritual path, at its true essence, is the path of love.

    But like the universe itself—ever-expanding, ever-evolving—our understanding of love’s expression must also transform.

    When I first threaded spirituality into my life in my early twenties, it was all about detachment: being the witness, the observer, the one who floats above life’s currents. We thought enlightenment meant watching life unfold from a safe distance, like viewing a play through opera glasses. How naive we were, how incomplete our understanding.

    My ancestors chant.

    The veil has thinned not just between worlds, but between being and doing.

    Spirituality has metamorphosed from observant to immersive. From ‘being’ love to ‘acting’ from love. From theoretical to embodied.

    Their question echoes with each heartbeat:

    How are you, as a spiritual being wearing human skin, actively engaging with life? Now? And now? And now? Are your actions in alignment with your thoughts, your words, your essence? The question persists like a pulse: Now? And now? And now?

    There’s not much room left for lies in this new spiritual landscape. Incongruence burns like acid on bare skin. I feel it in my bones when my actions betray my truth.

    The ancestors whisper.

    True spirituality isn’t about escaping the human experience—it’s about diving deeper into its waters, letting every wave of emotion and experience wash over you while keeping your heart open and your spirit anchored in love.

    Like the ancient Sufi mystic Rumi once wrote: “Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it.”

    In this age of quickening, love demands more than passive observation. It demands action, engagement, embodiment. It asks us to be both the lover and the beloved, the observer and the observed, the dancer and the dance.

    ☾

    1. Truth

    Truth begins at home, in the sacred temple of self.

    For eleven years, I’ve walked the path of the independent creator—mentor, writer, artist, weaving stories and wisdom into the world’s tapestry.

    The ancestors echo.

    This truth is both ancient and immediate: your feminine power, your creative force, your accumulated wisdom—these are not merely gifts to be scattered like seeds in the wind, but precious medicines to be properly valued and consciously shared. The old way of endless giving must transform into mindful offering.

    I feel resistance rise within me. A part of my spirit wants to create endlessly, to pour forth like a spring, making everything freely available to all who thirst. But the ancestors remind me: that even the most sacred springs are often protected by temple walls.

    The ancestors tell me to listen carefully.

    Your work needs more structure now. Put your best writing behind a paywall—people value what they pay for. Keep sharing some content freely to draw in those who resonate, but make your deepest insights exclusive. Create a clear journey for your people. Your time is finite. Your energy is precious. Your wisdom is valuable. Price it accordingly.

    True abundance flows not from endless giving, but from rightful exchange. When I value myself appropriately, I teach others how to value themselves. When I protect my energy wisely, I show others how to honour their own boundaries. When I price my work consciously, I demonstrate that spiritual wisdom and material respect can dance together in harmony.

    This is the new paradigm of feminine leadership: not the martyr who gives until she’s empty, but the woman who knows her worth, the creatrix who channels her gifts with discernment, the wise woman who understands that proper boundaries don’t limit her light—they help it shine more brightly.

    ☾

    1. Happiness

    The ancestors laugh.

    You cannot create on the outside what you haven’t first embodied on the inside.

    I understand now. I’ve been trying to force my environment to match my longing for idleness. This approach caught me frantically rearranging my external world to create space for stillness.

    I must first learn to be idle within myself, even amidst activity.

    To cultivate that sense of unhurried presence in my own being, regardless of external circumstances. To embody that quality of being “gloriously, unapologetically present” in my own nervous system before I can manifest it in my life.

    Just as I became my own anchor, I must become my own stillness.

    It’s about transforming my internal relationship with time, productivity, and presence. About being able to walk slowly even when the world runs, to remain unhurried even amidst deadlines, to stay connected to that deep current of peace even when the surface of life ripples with activity.

    The ancestors nod.

    The outer world will reshape itself once you’ve reshaped your inner landscape. But you must do the inner work first. Always first.

    ☾

    The veil is thin and with it old illusions fall away.

    My ancestors’ gifts are living instructions for navigating this complex world.

  • I spent 2 weeks with the patriarchy

    & it really sucked. Things got weird, way too quickly.

    I am sitting in Palermo Airport. It’s 10:20. My flight doesn’t leave until 15.30. But I had to change my plans. To get off that boat. I was not expecting to find myself in an airport again so soon, yet here I am. Things got weird, way too quickly.

    When the universe hands you a neon sign saying ‘EXIT,’ you don’t wait for the next showing.

    Sometimes we try things, and they don’t work out. Sometimes those things involve million-dollar catamarans, mid-life crises, and a crash course in advanced patriarchy studies.

    Dear reader, before we begin I want to clarify that I’m not normally exposed to people like this, who I call ‘normcore’ or ‘normies’. Due to my particular lifestyle and work, I tend to attract a certain quality of people who actively practice self-awareness and self-responsibility. So while you may be nodding your head and thinking “This is normal” it is not, to me, and the world that I choose to cultivate. It has shown me how necessary the work I do in the world is, and how much more accessible it needs to be to every ‘normcore’ ‘normie’.

    ☾

    He scanned my body seconds into our introduction, his eyes doing the dance of the seven veils across my waist, hips, and eyes. I could practically hear the internal ‘cha-ching’ of approval. Welcome aboard the S.S. Objectification, population: me and my exhausted cat.

    ☾

    The UK won’t let you fly out of the country with pets so we circumnavigate this obstacle. A taxi to the port. A ferry across the English Channel. A bus to the train station. A train to Paris. A tiny hotel room in the 8th arrondissement with perfect views.

    In the morning I shower and slip on my already-worn travel clothes. Black Free People leggings and a soft green t-shirt plus double denim jackets, one a stone-washed black, the other quilted and blue. I have to be practical to carry my body weight in luggage including my cat.

    ☾

    A taxi to the airport. An orange juice to quench the travel-stress-induced sore throat and thirst. A flight to Menorca. A taxi to another port. By the end, I felt like I’d starred in my own version of ‘Planes, Trains, and Automobiles’ – with a feline co-star.

    There I meet Alain. He comments on the weight of my bag and I counter that it’s hard to pack light when you don’t know where you’re going and there’s no going back.

    We take his dingy (that he keeps calling dinky) to his million-dollar catamaran. I make a makeshift toilet out of an Amazon box, fill it with litter and let my cat out to explore, while Alain shows me around.

    Alain is a French-speaking Belgian with limited English skills. Our conversations are simple and halted. I often translate French phrases even though I don’t speak French but understand enough to get by.

    I can tell he is confused by me. Unimpressed by his obvious wealth, I do not attempt to charm or delight him. He has kind blue eyes that wink at me too often in a both lustful and fatherly way. The lustre of his once handsome youth has not quite faded. He comes from a generation of men deeply steeped in internalised patriarchy and I have zero interest in playing into his biases.

    I do not need nor want anything from him and that makes me free.

    He started as a hairdresser, he tells me. And then through luck and business acumen became Europe’s second-largest importer of gold and precious metals. Until the company went bankrupt and he took a few years off living in the Caribbean. That part of the story makes me think some suspect dealings were going on. Now he has a construction company in Belgium that is run by his son and daughter.

    The patriarchy is chivalrous and generous but every act feels counted and measured to be paid for. Transactional.

    I don’t feel he is sincere. I start to put my guard up. After unpacking I tell him I am tired and go to bed. He seems disappointed and confused.

    ☾

    On our first day together, anchored in a small bay in Menorca while we wait for his school friends to arrive in a few days to join us, we share antipasto and some wine in the afternoon.

    After one glass he leans close and says “Don’t be afraid. I want to kiss you.”

    I recoil and answer “no”.

    Not only do I not want to which is enough reason, but I also am unwilling to compromise myself when I’m already in a vulnerable position.

    Plus, he’s the same age as my father, were he still alive.

    For the next 48 hours, our island exploration becomes a battleground of wits and wills. He lobs inappropriate comments about my body, gender, and sex like verbal grenades, while I deflect them with shields of feminine power and independence. We’re engaged in an absurd dance, his patriarchal peacocking met with my unyielding resistance.

    My friend Jackson, ever the strategist, suggests I fight fire with fire. So, I reluctantly lower myself into the mud pit of this verbal sparring match. I find myself slinging barbs about his age and loneliness, reminding him that I’m not here to play saviour to his midlife crisis.

    I can’t help but wonder: Is this what passes for social interaction in his world, or have I stumbled into a poorly written sitcom about mismatched travel buddies?

    The patriarchy is a young boy, abandoned at 14, trying to make his way through life and desperate for love.

    On the third day, we talk about integrity and authenticity and how important both are to me. He becomes silent and still. Finally, I have touched a real part of him. The part of him that knows that love and affection are not transactional but has accrued wealth to feel worthy of it. He is suffering under the patriarchy too.

    ☾

    When I first agreed to this trip, we had a plan: a 3-month trial period. We would start in Spain and slowly make our way from there to Italy, Greece, and then Turkey. From the first day of my arrival, Alain keeps changing the itinerary.

    Every day it is something new. Tunisia. Croatia. Montenegro. By the end of the two weeks, he decided to put the catamaran onto the harbour in Sicily for 5 months and imagined me to live with him. It was not what I had signed up for.

    ☾

    His friends join us and alleviate the intensity.

    I watch the three friends love and care for each other. It’s heartening to see. They are blind to the privilege that protects them from the suffering and diminishment that others have to face.

    Confounded by the wives who have left them and the girlfriends who don’t trust them they wonder why everyone is left feeling lonely and starved. “I worked so hard!” they are exasperated. “I gave everything I had!” They’re not wrong.

    They have also been robbed by the patriarchy. Never taught to feel and surrender to their humanness. Always thinking they can fix every problem by working harder and accruing more. Everyone is suffering. No one feels met, seen or fulfilled in this system.

    The patriarchy is 3 giggling schoolboys in the bodies of mid-50’s white men. Ignorant to their privilege and power.

    They don’t know about how many women I know are faced with the sharp slap of being disempowered by the system that credits men when they bear children. Automatically, the naming of their children, ownership, and important decisions are deferred to the man.

    Patriachary is mostly invisible until ruling forces show their hands.

    ☾

    Within hours we set off. Menorca to Sardinia.

    The seas are wild and the waves high. All the men get seasick, their pink faces turning shades of white and grey. Even my cat vomits in response to the 4-metre rolling surges. I read and write and skip meals while they eat despite their sickness, as we all wait for the 2-day journey to come to an end.

    In Sardinia we refuel and they decide to press on. Sicily is another 3 days sailing away and they have a flight out of Palermo at the end of the week.

    I slowly get to know his friends.

    We come from such different worlds they don’t know how to relate to me. They think I’m a loner because I don’t join them for large parts of the day but the truth is that I prefer my company to theirs when they are rolling around seasick, making crude jokes and speaking French most of the time.

    I am resourced in caring for my well-being and don’t need to belong to the group to feel safe. To them, this is strange.

    ☾

    It’s Saturday. I arrived on this watery adventure Saturday a week ago. Today, I can’t stop weeping. Tears flood from my eyes and I take myself away into my cabin to cry and sob and let it out. My nervous system is on edge.

    I don’t want to be here anymore.

    Amidst the tears, I have an epiphany. I realise I’ve broken a generational pattern of making misaligned decisions out of a need for survival.

    The power imbalance is exactly what the patriarchy preys on. They need us to need them. But it never works out for anyone. We all end up hurt and resentful. And then women a deemed ‘crazy’ because we have to reclaim our power in unconventional ways because we are not resourced enough otherwise.

    It feels so good to keep saying “no” to Alain’s propositions. Accepting or acceding to him comes at a cost that I am not willing to pay. He has never encountered a whole woman, a free woman, a woman who neither needs nor wants anything from him.

    It’s fascinating to observe my journey with my own internalised patriarchy.

    With my last long-term relationship, I slipped into the ‘perfect woman’ mould. I cooked and cleaned and cared and on top of that, I ran a business and paid half the bills and half the mortgage (that I was never repaid for).

    Now, I have no inclination to prove my worth or lovability through female labour. I nurture and care if and when I want to freely. And withhold it as easily. My actions and choices come from a pure place. Because I am self-resourced.

    This confounds the patriarchy who are conditioned to a system of exchange based on a need of survival from those who are oppressed and under-resourced. It’s easy to hold the power when the other has none.

    ☾

    Eventually, we find a connection point as I astound them with my impeccable music taste. One night, we share songs and dance.

    The patriarchy does all the cooking. Because I can’t relax enough to scrape together a meal beyond carrots sticks and cheese slices. If meals are left to me we starve. They cook. I wash up.

    After 5 days at sea, we are all glad to return to land. I never imagined the tension build up in my body from the constant motion of sailing. A stress response to the unnatural feeling of being thrown back and forth relentlessly.

    Upon arriving, desperate to speak to anyone not on our boat, I introduce myself to our neighbours who tell me that no skilled sailor would consider crossing in those conditions. It gives me a new perspective on Alain, his skills as a sailor and my safety on his vessel.

    ☾

    As we finally stumble back onto solid ground in Palermo, I have a heart-to-heart with one of Alain’s friends. Turns out, I’m not the only one who felt unsafe and uncomfortable. He says he hated every second of the journey. He wishes he had never come on this trip. That Alain is behaving strangely. We agree that he is not well. It’s a small comfort, but I’ll take it.

    Alain’s advances continue. When he catches me in tears he sends me a message that says “I wish I could hold you in my arms to comfort you”. It makes my skin crawl. I don’t want this man to touch me, ever. I don’t reply.

    ☾

    On Wednesday I again am filled with tears. When I think I’ve cried it all out I rejoin the group and we explore the city of Palermo but the tears don’t stop. They notice and I tell them I am feeling emotional and need space. I hide behind sunglasses and try to focus on the astounding history, art and beauty of Sicily. Spirituality is devotion to beauty, I think to myself in admiration.

    But I know now, that it’s time to go.

    ☾

    On Thursday I book a flight. His friends leave today and it will just be Alain and me again. I am unwilling to face that.

    On Friday over cappuccinos and cornettos at a patisseria I say to Alain “Alain” he looks up at me “I am leaving on Sunday. And I’m not coming back.” he nods, silently. Understood. He offers me to stay on the boat until then. “I can take an Airbnb,” I say. “No, please stay” he counters.

    The patriarchy pretends it doesn’t know what it wants and is fine and chill and cool with everything but doesn’t know how to communicate how it feels and it wants directly and clearly and is boiling with anger and frustration underneath.

    ☾

    Grateful and relieved, on Saturday I sunbathe and swim and read. For the first time, Alain leaves me alone. This is more like what I thought the experience would be like. Peaceful.

    As I pack up my life once again, I reflect on this bizarre nautical chapter. It wasn’t the adventure I signed up for, but it was the lesson I needed. I’ve emerged stronger, wiser, and with a newfound appreciation for solid ground.

    Sunday I get up early clean my cabin and bathroom and dive off the boat to swim one last time. I am ready to leave. He takes me to shore in the dingy and we have an awkward goodbye. “Thank you for an interesting time,” I say. “Have a nice life.” He mumbles something. I don’t care what he has to say. I’m ready to go.

  • idle

    the antidote to hustle culture, urgency culture, consumer culture and capitalism

    Yesterday was the first day of the rest of my life, and I wept with relief and happiness.

    I never planned this.

    I had no idea this was where we would end up. But I do live with the philosophy of saying yes to life and letting life, in her ultimate intelligence, guide and lead me.

    I knew that there was a craving deep inside my soul.

    So loud, so pure, so uncompromising that I could not ignore it. I wanted to extract myself from the world of constant distractions: always something to do, someone to see, something to add to the list, social media, TV shows, work, more work, more stuff to buy to numb my inertia.

    Since 2020 happened I have been caught in a cycle of distraction, less able to sit quietly with myself or truly engage with the world around me.

    I craved to replace this constant noise with being wholly consumed with the simplicity of living. So much so that I did not need nor want distraction from living and being.

    I had to learn to be idle.

    This morning I woke up to the sunrise, red streaks across the horizon of a purple sky, stripped naked and dove into the sea. This, I thought, is a start. I intend to spend my days teaching, talking, writing, creating, singing, playing, swimming, lounging and laughing.

    Work is there. It anchors me and I am happy to have those commitments. And…

    Mostly: I will be idle.

    A month ago, I threw my hands up in the air and said, “Universe, I’ve run out of ideas. This next step is on you. You work it out. Because I can’t do this by myself.”

    One kismet conversation led to another, and suddenly I was offered an invitation to move onto a beautiful catamaran with my cat and our friend Captain Alain to sail the world. It felt like the universe answering my call, offering me a chance to step out of the repetition of ‘normal’ life and rediscover a more nourishing form.

    We are in the Balearic Islands on Menorca. In a few days when the winds pick up we are heading to my paternal origins of Sardinia, then south to Sicily, the Greek Islands, down to Tunisia, across to Turkey and then… let’s see.

    I hope to break free from the piercing, anxious apathy that brews in the blood and rediscover the joy of being fully present in each moment. It’s a step towards reclaiming my agency and capacity to act rather than passively consuming out of a need for distraction.

    In my journey to embrace a simpler, more fulfilling life, I’ve come to understand that there are two kinds of people.

    — There are those obsessed with outcomes, desperately seeking stability, willing to sacrifice everything to achieve that goal.

    — There are those who have let go of fixating on outcomes, instead pouring themselves fully into the fluid unpredictability of the present moment and the process itself.

    For me — those living deeply in the moment — are truly the ones who are more vivid and alive.

    It’s not the ultra-disciplined person with a rigid lifestyle and endless list of goals who inspires me. Rather, I’m drawn to those who take the time to walk slowly, who dedicate themselves to a cherished hobby, or who can simply lay back and lose themselves in passions for hours.

    These are the people who embody the essence of what it means to truly live and love.

    In embracing this way of life — one that values presence, simplicity, and active care — we find ourselves more inspired and alive.

    By focusing on the process rather than obsessing over outcomes, by nurturing the conditions for growth rather than fixating on the end result, we not only find more fulfilment in our own lives but also become a source of inspiration and support for others.

    This is how we truly learn to love… ourselves, others, and the world around us.

    In a world obsessed with hustle and bustle, where every second is monetised and optimised, there’s a quiet rebellion brewing.

    It’s the art of being gloriously, unapologetically idle.

    Not lazy, but present. Alive.

    Awake to the whispers of the world that we usually rush past.

    Idleness isn’t about doing nothing; it’s about doing nothing particularly “productive” and finding it spectacularly fulfilling.

    It’s life, raw and unfiltered, served straight up with a twist of kismet serendipity.

    We’ve forgotten, in our mad dash to achieve and acquire, that we’re dancing animals at heart. We love to move, to explore, to simply be.

    Somewhere along the way, we traded our dance shoes for computer screens and our curiosity for convenience.

    Here’s the secret: In the spaces between the urgent emails and the rushed commutes, real life is waiting.

    It’s in the idle moments, the apparently “unproductive” times, that we stumble upon joy, connection, and meaning. It’s where we remember who we are beyond our job titles and social media profiles.

    So here’s my invitation:

    Join me in embracing idleness as a radical act of self-love and rebellion.

    To reclaim our right to wander, wonder, and yes, to faff about. Because in a world that demands we constantly prove our worth through busyness and acquisition, choosing to be idle is choosing to be fully human.

  • the cult of youth

    ageing as a process of becoming one self and thriving beyond ‘middle-age’ because the markers have moved

    I have a Pinterest board of women, ageing gracefully. They are wrinkling, greying, vibrant, alive and beautiful. In a world that fetishises youth like it’s the last avocado toast on Earth, I created this board and look at it frequently to prime my brain for the future.

    Sometimes I find a white hair shimmering amongst my brown ones and admire it. Sometimes I pull it out reactively and immediately wonder why I did that. Did I just assault my own wisdom? Sometimes I look in the mirror and see that the bouncy suppleness of my skin is melting into something that can only be described as… well, tired? I have a skin routine to combat it, and people tell me it’s working, which boosts my vanity faster than you can say “retinol.”

    As a millennial privileged with growing older, I am not immune to the flashy world of plastic unlined skin and coloured hair that belies our true nature.

    At the same time, I think it’s important to note that our aspirations and ideas about ageing are changing so fast, maturing and growing older and wiser is something to be embraced, and how we age can be a choice.

    Research tells us that most people under 50 are going to live to 120.

    Examples:

    — A new study by Washington University shows there is an 89% chance that someone will live to 126 during the 21st century.

    — Living to 120 is becoming an imaginable prospect.

    — Perhaps the greatest human accomplishment of the past century was the remarkable increase in life expectancy.

    That means that if you’re under 50—which I understand to be most of us here in this community if we have the fortune of being healthy, educated and well-resourced to take care of ourselves—you’re only a third of the way in your life.

    Knowing that, changes the way we move through our lives.

    There’s no rush! We have no timeline to adhere to. Life is long! At the same time, death is imminent, and what we do with our life is all that matters. It’s like being at an all-you-can-eat buffet that lasts 120 years – pace yourselves, but also, maybe try the dessert first sometimes?

    Last year I decided to stop telling people my age. Sometimes I lie about it.

    Not because I have any shame around it. Because I refuse to allow others’ projections of what is deemed socially acceptable for my age group to dictate my life. Most people still operate on an old trajectory of go to school, get married, have babies, build a career somewhere in between, and then retire.

    If you’ve followed that course, your life is supposedly “done” by 50.

    By modern standards, it means you still have another 70 years to go! What do you do then? Learn to juggle? Master underwater basket weaving? Start again?

    Let’s revise this set of life expectations. Here’s a new perspective.

    Every human life has its own timeline, journey and course. There is no linear path. You never arrive. And you can do anything you want any time you want in between the two doorways of birth and death. You are a soul tied to a body. An individual tied to the collective. It’s up to you to decide what you do with your life.

    The only expectation…

    To live the life that your soul asks for. A path meant solely for you. One that only you can devise from the depths of yourself by checking in and choosing heart-mind-body-soul-intuition alignment over and over again, moment to moment.

    I am fortunate to be sourrounded by a community of like-minded souls who also delicately attempt to curate a life of their own, on their own terms. I like to think that the adage is true that we attract those most like us and act as mirrors for one another.

    Often they send me truly kind words (my Leo sun laps them up) about my apparent youthful- and attractive-ness.

    I like to think that the more preconceived notions and conditioning I release the lighter and more open (attractive) I become. In doing so I completely reframe ageing as a process of becoming one self.

    If I am to live to 120, then I want to ensure I do so with as much vigour, vibrancy, mobility, flexibility and yes, attractiveness as possible. This means that I choose to live life in such a way that the number of years I’ve lived has nothing to do with physical ageing and everything to do with inner maturity and life experience. It’s like Benjamin Button, but with better skincare and more existential crises.

    Recently I read a letter from Garance Doré who proposed the following:

    “Remove ten years from your age. 

    Good. 

    Take me as an example, I am now 39.

    Now, feel it. You’re ten years younger, but you know everything you know. Yum!

    Great. 

    Now think of all the things you would do if you were ten years younger.

    Perfect.

    Okay well now go ahead and do them.

    Because in ten years you’ll look back and tell yourself you were SO YOUNG ten years ago, and you should have done the things.”

    She added that people who think they’re younger actually live younger, and are measurably stronger, healthier and happier—it’s researched and proven.

    At the same time, while I am devoted to taking care of myself mind-body-heart-soul, I also am loyal to the natural passage of my human life.

    I don’t get my nails done. I think natural nails are beautiful. Look how pink they are! And perfectly shaped! The intelligence of nature knew what she was doing (take that, acrylic overlords!). I pluck my eyebrows myself but mostly let them grow wild. They’re quite demure anyway, like shy caterpillars trying to blend in. I occasionally die them at home. My hair is its natural colour. My bikini line gets waxed twice a year if I feel like it.

    Mostly I find all this extra upkeep so boring and tedious and also painful and expensive and most of all, time-consuming.

    I believe the best antidote for navigating the cult of youth is untamed authenticity.

    Let the rest of the world shape itself into an amalgamation of sameness. Uniqueness and knowing who we are and how to truly be ourselves are going to become the most powerful markers of life in the near future. The ones that will stand out in the end are those of us who reclaim ourselves exactly as we are.

    Eventually, we will all decay and our bodies will rejoin the earth. Youth may be wasted on the young, but wisdom is the ultimate revenge of ageing.

  • it’s been 10 years since I have spoken to my mother

    why love is not enough and the pain of walking away

    In August my birthday came and went.

    With it, for the first time since I wrote ‘It’s been 6 years since I spoke to my mama’ a familiar note arrived.

    It’s been four years.

    This time there is no subject line.

    Just text in the body of the email.

    Happy birthday Vienda 🎂 followed by a cake emoji.

    The pain of walking away from someone you love for the sake of self-preservation is one that never goes away.

    It ebbs and flows.

    Some days I feel deep compassion. Her life has not been an easy one.

    Some days I feel fierce anger. She could have done better.

    Some days I really want her to say:

    ~ sorry that I didn’t know how to parent you
    ~ sorry that I was not being able to be present for you or nurture you
    ~ sorry that I projected my anger, bitterness and frustration into you
    ~ sorry that I acted so righteous and like I had everything under control
    ~ sorry that my conditioning destroyed every relationship in my surroundings
    ~ sorry that I abandoned you as often as I did because I was terrified of being abandoned myself

    I want her to say

    Life is hard and I was faced with many challenges but I take responsibility for the ways that I handled them.

    I want her to admit that she’s not a victim but that her choices were a byproduct of circumstances.

    Sorry.

    I fucked up.

    Like everyone else.

    I did my best.

    I am not right.

    Or better than anyone.

    All my actions were attempts to protect myself and that is my fault. Not yours

    Sorry

    A therapist once told me that every every child wants to hear ‘I’m sorry’ and every parent wants to hear ‘Thank you’ and often neither gets either.

    A friend asked me if I could imagine ever having a relationship with my mother again.

    I always hope to, I replied. But it requires behaviour changes. What I need from her is to take full responsibility for herself and her actions.

    I reply to her email.

    thank you. I hope you are happy and well. happy birthday on the 23rd to you too.

    Trauma can be a wellspring of growth.

    Through the crucible of difficult relationships, I found unexpected healing.

    It took reaching a breaking point — a place of unbearable tension and rejection — to realize a fundamental truth: I am the guardian of my own well-being.

    When I finally accepted the absence of my mother’s mothering, the ensuing grief affirmed both my needs and my capacity for deep love.

    I could have chosen victimhood. I could have repeated her pattern.

    Instead, I embraced the painful work of feeling and healing.

    My goal has always been authenticity.

    To be at ease with myself, open to giving and receiving profound love. To face life with both tenderness and courage, unburdened by the past. To cultivate relationships with kindred spirits, where mutual trust and safety nurture shared vulnerability.

    It’s in this space — at the intersection of loss and love — that I’ve discovered my truest self.

    Unlearning self-protective habits is painful, but necessary.

    Healing often lies in doing the opposite of what once kept us safe. By embracing our raw authenticity, we allow ill-fitting relationships to fall away. It’s both a death and a rebirth.

    What emerges is rare and beautiful: feeling truly seen and loved by those who can hold all our complexity.

    The path to genuine connection requires us to trust our own worthiness, to risk opening our hearts. And sometimes, it means having the courage to walk away from relationships that require us to diminish ourselves.

  • where to now?

    winter is coming / maybe south? maybe more south? / a love-hate letter to Australia / a surf road-trip along the west coast of Europe / a catamaran trip around the world

    Maybe south. FranceSpainPortugal…and then?

    Maybe more south. IndiaIndonesiaAustralia…and then?

    ☾

    I am back in my little cabin in the southern part of the UK my furry shadow in the shape of a cat firmly pressing his little warm body against my side as I tap at my laptop keys willing little pieces of my heart out of my fingertips to share with you.

    My 8-month mentor training that you have been reading about across the past month started this week and I am in between live training calls today. The shift from externally facing business work and output to internally facing business doing the actual work is palpable. I notice that I have withdrawn from the clamour a little while I recalibrate.

    The weather outside is grey and wet. 17°C. Winter is coming.

    If I didn’t know I was leaving in three weeks I would be crying but instead, I am laughing because I am leaving three weeks. It was a fast and short six-week on-and-off summer here in the UK.

    An anticipated disappointment.

    This morning I spoke to a very nice car salesman who told me he would help me sell my car before I go.

    I’ve sold all my other furniture already, except for the desk and the bed. The rug that I have shipped across the world several times will get rolled up and put in storage in a friend’s garage with one other bag that will stay behind for now.

    Where to now?

    ☾

    Australia is a strange place.

    Not my home but sometimes the closest thing. Many formative years spent there have etched a love for the country.

    There is something about those endless skies, the vast open space, the scorching bright light. Everything is more alive, more wild, more dangerous. The ocean, the wildlife, the sun.

    Every beautiful thing has malice to it.

    As a young girl, I learned to be wary of long grasses and concealed foliage. At any moment something that wants to kill you might appear. Even now when I walk through gentle European landscapes my eyes search for evidence of a poisonous snake or spider, a magpie attack or a vicious lizard hidden somewhere.

    I have skills most of my friends don’t.

    I can open a coconut with a machete in three short hacks. I can identify most tropical fruits and herbs and can tell when something is good to eat. I can look at the ocean to determine whether it’s safe to swim and where, or not, based on the movement in the waters. I can walk barefoot on any ground, my feet instinctively finding safe pockets to balance on, without being marred by rough surfaces.

    Sometimes I watch people without the same wildness in their spirit clumsily fumble through nature being pitted by its elements and feel a superiority in my feral heart.

    Australia gave me to myself.

    It taught me to find peace and vibrancy in the terror and brutality of life.

    I miss the smell of the eucalyptus and the feel of the paper bark under my fingers. I miss the unbridled wildness and the freedom you can find when you get far enough away from civilisation. I miss the instant community formed through the shared obstacles of navigating this treacherous land.

    Australia.

    A country that is rough and raw and honest its bigotry and vacuity. That will readily opt for toxic positivity instead of squarely addressing what is truly going on. Punctuated by the cultural archetype of the “battler” — the idea that people should work hard to earn just enough to survive — is deeply ingrained in the national identity. With little room for more delicate and nuanced ways of being.

    I did find my people there.

    But they are not the average Australian. As they are not your average Brit or average European or average American. There is nothing average about the people I claim as mine.

    It’s been 10 years.

    I think of it often. More now, than before.

    ☾

    But Europe is my home, too.

    Europe gave me delicacy and refinement inaccessible elsewhere.

    A month ago I had a plan.

    A friend of mine and I were going to take our cars and meet in the north of France and slowly drive our way along the west coast. France, Spain, Portugal.

    An all-girl surf road trip. I figured, that by the time we arrived at the end, I’d have an answer to that question.

    Where to now?

    But then the plan changed.

    My friend could no longer go and I was left adrift in no man’s land wondering what better kismet plan the universe had in store for me.

    A good one, it turns out.

    Instead, I was invited to join a friend on a four x double-bedroom catamaran with my cat to sail around the world for six months or more. However long it takes and suits our tastes.

    In three weeks we will take a taxi to a port south of here, ferry to France, train to Paris, stay the night, fly to Menorca, board a catamaran and slowly sail south.

    From the Balearic Islands to Sicily, through the Greek Islands, onto Turkey, through the Suez Canal edging Egypt, into the Red Sea, to the Gulf of Aden, across the Arabian Sea, onto India, the Pacific, and more…

    I had never imagined I’d end up here but that’s the beauty of this life I have chosen.

    It is kismet.

    Contained by an ecstatic swell of destiny, accessible only by relaxing into the unknown.

  • how I taught myself to make my own life

    the unsexy truth about growth, expansion and creating an authentic life in a world that wants us to conform to a set structure

    I was a good girl for all of my childhood. Not because I was innately good. But because I quavered in the fear of ever-looming punishment from caregivers who were not self-regulated*.

    I secretly harboured the desire to run away. I tried, once, when I was 11. I was desperate to grow up so I could make my own decisions. I saw right through the lies the adults told incessantly day in, and day out. I wanted to make my own life.

    One day I was 17. I had finished school and left home without real-life skills. My maternal grandmother had spent years teaching me how to be a good girl so that one day I would marry and become a good wife. I could cook and clean and be pleasing.

    I had no self-esteem, no idea who I was, what I wanted, or even, what I liked.

    Those first few years of ‘adulthood’ were hard. I had no real support network and had to figure everything out on my own.

    So I tried lots of things and learned about myself.

    I loved dancing, but not drinking. I loved getting lost in nature, but not in cities. I loved drawing and writing, but not team sports. Except for ultimate frisbee which brought out a competitive streak I didn’t know I had. I loved deep conversations, but not small talk. I was ‘bubbly’ to cover my social anxiety. I was a dreamer and a drifter, who had no solid plans or aims or direction.

    So I travelled: Australia, Austria, Italy, England.

    I worked as a waitress, as a nanny, at an ice cream shop, and in a bar (which I quickly quit because not only do I not like drinking I hate drunk people). I worked as a temp, as a receptionist at a glossy magazine, and as the secretary for a prominent film editor.

    Then, on a particularly cold winter day in London, a few months after turning 20 I decided to study psychology in the hottest place I could find. That hot place was a small university in the northern tropics edged by The Great Barrier Reef in Australia in the jungle.

    Like many more remote places in Australia, it was backwards unsophisticated and coarse. But I loved it.

    I loved that my professors wandered the campus with long, wild hair and no shoes. I loved that they were honest about who they were (hippies) and why they were there (to get funding for their studies and theories). I loved that I lived a few blocks away from the Coral Sea. I loved that the summers were unspeakably hot until the rains came and when the rain did come it poured in buckets. I loved that winter wear was one measly sweater that got pulled out for three weeks per year. I loved that, in our free time, my friends and I chased waterholes and waterfalls and rainforest walks and secret parties in the bush. I loved that this was where I found yoga, magic mushrooms, and EDM**.

    Spending so much time connecting to nature, both human nature and the natural world around us, I observed something.

    inhale = expansion
    exhale = contraction

    growth = expansion
    introspection = contraction

    creativity = expansion
    discipline = contraction

    life = expansion
    death = contraction

    Each expansion is coupled with a contraction.

    That’s what we’ve got to get comfortable with. That’s the bit we have to embrace. We can’t hold our breath forever. We can’t have expansion without contraction.

    During my studies, I learned that the subconscious mind is a goal-serving mechanism. That when you give it direction it will come up with solutions. I decided that, if I did indeed want to make my life like I promised myself as a little girl, I would have to come up with a formula I could follow to create an authentic life in a world that wants us to conform to a set structure.

    I believe in human agency and our creative power.

    And I also believe in the kismet assertion that parts of our lives are contained by an ecstatic swell of destiny, only accessible by surrender.

    How does that work?

    ~ can we both have direction AND surrender?

    ~ can we step up AND step back?

    The formula that works for me, is seen in the following 4 steps:

    1. listen
    2. trust
    3. follow
    4. repeat

    by listen, I mean:

    • getting SO close to yourself, you can hear your truth
    • becoming able to feel the whisper of your heart (contraction and expansion)

    by trust, I mean:

    • faith – feeling supported by something bigger (reality, universe, god, life)
    • selfholding – knowing that whatever happens, you have got yourself

    by follow, I mean:

    • taking every necessary step to make it happen
    • committing to the process, no matter how hard, difficult or painful

    by repeat, I mean:

    • keep checking in, is it still true? has it changed?
    • if it’s still true, continue. if not, change.

    This type of surrender is not about sitting back.

    It is about active engagement, continuous tuning in, and following the signposts.

    Once I figured out my formula I discovered that staying on course with my authentic truth in this world doesn’t come naturally. When we’re bombarded by cynicism and criticism and negativity, it’s not easy to smile and shake it off with a sigh and soften back into my own direction.

    It is truly radical to chart your soul’s true path.

    New levels of growth, require new levels of approach. So I reached for sturdier support to hold me.

    1. decide

    Only you can make your life. No accreditation*** or external validation is going to be able to do that for you. It is all down to you. You have to decide. You have to decide what you want. You have to decide that you are worthy of it.

    2. be flexible

    Realign and experiment as many times as it takes. Sometimes, maybe because you’ve been blindsided by limiting beliefs, you haven’t allowed yourself to go deep within to explore what you’re intuitively capable of. Try again. Go deeper. Ask for more.

    3. be bold and daring

    Doubts and fears can cripple our ability to act. It takes courage to walk your own path. Courage is cumulative. And it requires releasing your doubts and fears and allowing yourself to attune to positive, high vibrational, creative energy. There are so many methods for that. I personally often reach for applied kinesiology.

    4. generational rewiring

    Many of the self-concepts we hold are predetermined by generational conditioning. These limit us from living our authentic lives. If I had not devoted myself to rewiring my makeup I’d be an inauthentically unhappy ‘good wife’ right now.

    5. loving compassion

    No long-lasting change has ever come from force or coercion. The only way through is with tremendous tenderness, warmth and compassion.

    6. intuition

    We are all energetically unique. To make your own life you need to bypass the rational mind and connect straight to your energy source: the source of all inspiration and intuition. I do this by having self-dates where I simmer in my own energy or as I heard someone call it recently be in vibrational alignment with myself.

    7. believe that you are more powerful than you know

    It’s all down to you and how you express your energy in a way that is creative and powerful. One of the fastest ways to realign your energy is through the practices of presence and gratitude. There, you enter the quantum field, and everything becomes possible.

    8. be discerning

    Not everything or everyone is for you. Some people, places and things will uplift and expand you. Others will destroy you. Choose wisely.

    Vienda ♥

    *Self-regulation is the ability to manage one’s emotions, thoughts, and behaviours effectively in different situations, allowing for more measured responses rather than impulsive reactions.

    **Electronic Dance Music

    ***Accreditation can, however, boost your self-esteem and confidence enough to give you the courage needed to take the steps necessary for creating your life.

    Some recommend reading:

    15 ways to get clients as a mentor: No, you don’t have to use social media if you don’t want to.

    There IS more to this world. We exist in a particularly delicate precipice of change and transformation. If you’re here, reading this, you will have felt it. (Why we need each other now more than ever and how the TMT accreditation and assessment process helps you become a confident and responsible mentor.)

    Your journey is your greatest asset. And the ONE thing you need to be an impactful and effective mentor, teacher, coach or healer.

    Some recommend listening:

    What does living a creative and intuitively led life look like? Listen to me share my take on this in this week’s episode of Amy Lea’s ‘Unreasonable’ podcast.

  • when the urge to leave… stops

    Part journal entry, part example of how I reparent my inner child and regulate a fearful subconscious, part break-up letter, part invitation. It’s all in there! 😮‍💨

    When a woman ends a relationship, she begins grieving the end of it, long before she leaves it.

    Perhaps that is how women do most things. Feel them first. Act on them last.

    ☾

    I am at the tail end of an unusually hushed week for a mid-summer month.

    A week swimming with incomplete to-do lists and notes, extended walks in the woods, visits to the farm shops, and long days filled with writing content marketing for the final enrolment of The Mentor Training. In preparation for a week south by the sea in France where I will have fewer chances to make it to my laptop to work. Punctuated by pauses where I took my clothes off and lay naked on the ground to take in sun and soil.

    I spent July and August getting to know this land and its people in the way I had always hoped to. I wandered every walking trail I could find. Got lost several times for hours. Was rescued once by a stranger who took pity on me after I roamed three hours in the wrong direction and drove me back home. Went to a couple of local music festivals. Met locals, new and old.

    I got to know the community and to understand this place in the world.

    It confirmed to me that it is not mine.

    Place matters. The vibe and people of a place influence. The wrong place can corrode a life. The right place can enhance and flourish it.

    This place is in a different season than mine.

    Made up of young families or young people still living with their parents or adults who are well into their elder years. My enchantment with Forest Row has failed to meet me. I’m too young for the oldies and too untethered for the families. I reconcile this through conversations with those who share my current season in life. All of them seek a place that nourishes their spirits elsewhere.

    It’s sweet and easy to be here, we agree, but it gives little, and are we starving.

    I know home is less a place than a state of being. Home, really, is when the urge to leave… stops

    ☾

    Today, after three weeks of sun and warmth a light rain has settled in. It’s that soft mist familiar only to the UK.

    Every sunny day here is so treasured. It does not have the same reliable abundance of summer as other places. Instead, a spartan scarcity of sunlight.

    I noticed it in particular two years ago when I was visiting from Mallorca.

    A dreary, grey, depression had swept across the country. London, which I had fallen in love with in my 20s for its rebellious joyful expression via a melting pot of music, fashion and culture, had become dulled.

    My friends tell me the cause is political and socioeconomic.

    When I fell in love with this country it was in arms with the E.U. allowing trading, migration and shared regulations. As a European, this provided me with the freedom to jump borders when and as often as I wanted to. Life here was (mostly) sweet. I made the UK a home base, flowing in and out of the country at will, whenever I needed a soft landing.

    After Brexit the gritty underbelly of racism and colonialism rose to the surface, the country became grim.

    I have had to commit to a certain number of years (three) within a certain time frame (five) to be able to remain. Even then, there is no certainty.

    I think my love affair with the UK has ended.

    ☾

    This part, as much of this article, has been pulled directly from the pages of my journal.

    I’ve been grieving it for a while.

    I will come back for visits. Or practical reasons. My car and business are both registered here for the time being. But that’s it.

    This country and I have reached completion.

    We are not compatible despite the love between us.

    I am curious to discover what is next for us. Danger-baby, Punto-the-car, and me. My little family of three. Where are we going to end up, I wonder?

    My intention for the rest of this year is that it has got to be easy. Sweet and easy. Ease is leading the way, everything else is falling away.

    Having written that, I have come to realise that the recurring lower back and hip pains I’ve been experiencing have to do with home and safety.

    It started when I left Brighton in 2021 to move to Mallorca — a chronic pain that I rarely shared about which persisted during those 18 months — and then subsided on my return mid-last year. The UK has always symbolised safety. A place I am familiar with. Now that I am aware that this perceived safety is going to change my body is making my unconscious fear known to me with the return of this pain. Pain that I ease each day through mindful movement.

    Thank you body. I hear you. I feel you. I acknowledge you.

    I have an ongoing yearning for home as a safe external environment in which I can relax and thrive. A big part of choosing where to live is being conscious and clear-eyed about the inevitable tradeoffs. There’s no perfect place. Just a set of trade-offs I’m more willing to make.

    I am doing the dance necessary to make manifest any desire:

    — showing up to the practicalities in the ways that I can
    — holding the vision and vibe high
    — trusting and surrendering

    Back to the subject of home… from me to me.

    Darling body. Thank you so much for communicating with me so clearly. I love you so much and am in awe of you every day.

    Darling younger self, inner child and subconscious. I know how easily you feel scared and unsafe due to childhood circumstances. I am so sorry that was your reality. And… I am an adult now. I’ve got you. I will always keep you safe. I have the deep understanding, emotional and intellectual intelligence, and resources to do so. Unlike your caregivers when you were little. I love you. All my choices are centred around your expansion, growth, joy, freedom and well-being. Always.

    Place matters. And the yearning and seeking for the ‘right’ place, matter too.

    ☾

    Younger self and shadow work play a big role in my work and my self-growth. They are both included in the methods I use with private clients.

    I sometimes am asked to explain shadow work.

    It is the beautiful inner work of making the unconscious conscious. The parts of ourselves that we hide: our fears, guilt, shame, anger, secret desires or pleasures, the things we lie about. To fit into society/survive/belong. This kind of inner work enables you to be your authentic self thus increasing your personal power and well-being because you’re not hiding anything.

    Work with me 1:1 here.

  • monday blues are real

    Every single day of the week has a different vibe. And when you know how to harness the energy of the days of the week and make them work for you, your entire life changes.

    I woke up on Monday bone-tired. Had I been running around as the green fae in a secret treasure hunt and staying up late at a festival all weekend? Yes, I had.

    But still… I am also no longer in my 20’s where I can whimsically shirk all responsibilities. Nor do I want to.

    (I feel this particular topic is owed an article all of its own as I have a lot of thoughts and opinions about moving away from the cult of youth and flourishing at every age and how we are evolving in this current moment of our collective consciousness where old paradigms and expectations no longer fit, but that’s not for today. I’ll circle back to that another time.)

    Then I remembered it was Monday and that I am allowed to rest!

    We don’t flailingly and aimlessly live and feel the way we do without reason. There are a whole host of influencers impacting how you feel, and what you do, every day. Your emotions, if you have slept, your last conversation, the sun, moon and stars, and the energy of the days of the week all play an important role too.

    One thing that we often overlook is that each day of the week brings with it a unique vibe, atmosphere and energy.

    Have you ever wondered why Monday feels like such a drag?

    It’s because Monday is influenced by the Moon and the vibe is all about quiet introspection and being alone. But in our world Monday is the first day of the working week and we are expected to feel like we are full of beans (even when we are not).

    You know how people get really excited about Friday?

    It’s not because everyone hates their job and wants to run around shouting “FRIYAY!” at the top of their lungs. It’s because Friday is influenced by the planet Venus and the vibe is all about excitement, socializing, beauty and romance. It’s an upbeat energy compared to low-key Monday.

    Every single day of the week has a different vibe. And when you know how to harness the energy of the days of the week and make them work for you, your entire life changes. Instead of pushing against the current, you’ll flow with it.

    Here’s how it works:

    DAY: MONDAY 🌙

    PLANET: MOON

    VIBE: Get in touch with your feelings, be mindful of your moods, purify your surroundings, practice compassion.

    Monday is a moon day, and so we are dealing with emotions, moods, intuition and the shadowy side of life. Many people report Monday as the most challenging day of the week. It’s no wonder, as the moon carries with it erratic and sometimes unpredictable energy. If you are not a fan of Monday, there may be some underlying emotional energy that you are struggling to deal with. It helps to spend some time being introspective and journaling about what is coming up for you. This lets our logical mind know “where we stand” in a metaphorical sense.

    Best tasks for Mondays: Meditation, dream analysis, planning, quiet time, personal indulgence, rest, relaxation, sleep.

    I hold my CEO day on a Monday for both my life and my business.

     

    DAY: TUESDAY 🔥

    PLANET: MARS

    VIBE: Express your passion, get some exercise, release pent up frustration/energy.

    Tuesday is influenced by the planet Mars, which is an aggressive planet. In fact, its namesake in Greek myth was the god of war. Tuesday is a driving force in the workweek and will auger a sense of productivity, competition, effectiveness, determination and completion. With these kinds of energies in the forefront, Tuesday is the perfect day for finishing long overdue tasks. Conversely, Tuesday is also a great day to start new projects.

    Best tasks for Tuesdays: Building strategies at work and in career, marketing, acting on new ideas, starting new projects, cleaning out clutter, exercising, finishing to-do lists or catching up.

    As the ‘official’ first work day of my week, I use Tuesdays to bite a chunk out of my ‘to-dos’. It’s generally one of my most outward-facing productive days of the week. Projects, emails, and urgent tasks all get piled into this one day. I block-task my days so this creates space in the week for other commitments.

    DAY: WEDNESDAY 💬

    PLANET: MERCURY

    VIBE: Study, travel, research, meditate, teach, talk, write, hold meetings.

    Wednesday is ruled by Mercury who is the messenger of the heavens. It facilitates clear communication and carries new information to our awareness in extremely precise and effective ways. Mercury also augers higher perception too. I love the synchronicity of Wednesday landing in the middle of the week because it gives a pervasive sense of connectivity. In a way, Wednesday is the vital communications link to all other days – it’s like the network server of the week (to use computer terms).

    Best tasks for Wednesdays: Communication of course! Catch up on emails, thank you notes, letters, phone calls, etc. Wednesday is a good day to sign contracts (that is, if Mercury is not in a retrograde) too. Mercury is also a beneficent energy for short travel, so plan your day trips accordingly.

    Wednesdays for me are for meetings, group mentoring calls and private clients. Because I made space on Tuesday and can focus on these solely on this day.

    DAY: THURSDAY 🪐

    PLANET: JUPITER

    VIBE: Make a point to feel gratitude and positivity from the moment you wake up, as this is going to help you leap forward throughout the day.

    Thursday belongs to Jupiter, the planet of positivity and expansion, making it the perfect time to learn new things and expand your consciousness. A survey concludes Thursday is the most productive day of the week in business. It’s no wonder, as Jupiter has a way of lighting a fire under us and getting us moving. Jupiter is the planet of enterprise and expansion. It’s also an extremely optimistic planetary energy that can be felt all through the day on Thursdays when we tune into it.

    Best tasks for Thursdays: Socializing, networking, marketing. Working with financial tasks such as the stock market or even balancing accounts will lead to positive results in the long term when done on Thursdays while ruminating in Jupiter energy.

    Often, I also see private clients on Thursdays as well as carve out time for copywriting, marketing and more of the fun creative aspects of running my business.

    DAY: FRIDAY ♥️

    PLANET: VENUS

    VIBE: Appreciate the people in your life, go on a date, show your love, recognize beauty, make new friends. Enjoy fashion and creative pursuits.

    Friday is the day of Venus, the planet of love and creativity, which makes it the perfect day to connect with others and relax. We all know Venus energy, and when it comes to the symbolic meaning of days, Venus is a highly appropriate vibe for Friday, the traditional end-of-the-workweek day. Venus is about love, connection, belonging, comfort, sensuality and passion. If you think about it, most people who have traditional Monday – Friday workweeks tend to let their hair down and celebrate on Fridays (points for kicking off the weekend too). Friday is an all-around feel-good day, replete with the energy of friendliness and kindness. Interestingly, Friday is also the most popular (romantic) date night.

    Best tasks for Fridays: Romance, romance, romance! Did I mention romance? Fridays are also perfect for expressing your love amidst friends and family. This is a great day for pleasure and appreciation, so trips to places that make you feel indulged, luxurious or pampered are good too (like a spa, salon, the movies, a jewellery store).

    I generally take Fridays off from work and instead plan Venusian things that fill up my cup. Buy flowers, go on a date, go to a gig, get my hair cut (or cut it myself as I have been prone to lately), see friends, go to the beach or on a road trip.

    DAY: SATURDAY ⏰

    PLANET: SATURN

    VIBE: Tackle some big projects that need doing and take time out of your day to get organised for the week ahead.

    Saturday is the day of Saturn, the day of taking responsibility and getting organised. Saturn can be a stern energy and a real taskmaster too. This makes Saturday one of the most advantageous days of the week because the opportunity for productivity and completing tasks is optimal. Unlike Thursday/Jupiter however, Saturn isn’t as jovial when working to get the job done. Saturdays are best put to use when we thoroughly plan for prevention. Preparing for the week ahead on Saturday will align our Saturn energies and bring about satisfactory results for each consecutive day in the week.

    Best tasks for Saturday: Housework, preparation for upcoming events, academic tasks like studying and homework, catching up on a backlog of work.

    On Saturdays, I’m found behind my laptop for the morning. Answering any emails left from the week (I aim for inbox zero when I can) and tying up loose strings from projects, clients and commitments. I’ll look through my love to-do list in my Plannher and make sure everything is ticked off or rearranged before my weekend begins on Saturday afternoon.

    DAY: SUNDAY 🌞

    PLANET: SUN

    VIBE: Make today a day for rest and relaxation. Try not to schedule anything too demanding or high energy on Sunday and instead, take the time to connect to your inner radiance.

    Sunday is the day of the Sun, a perfect day for relaxing, unwinding and connecting with your inner self. Sunday is notorious throughout time and cultures as being a day of rest, the sun shines brightly on our Sundays with clarity, vitality and a sense of well-being. This day is optimal for soaking up some social warmth by being with family, friends and neighbours. It’s also a perfect day to catch up on our rest and relaxation. The sun is all about radiance, sharing, expressing, expanding, illumination and growth. The sun is also about provision, as it ensures the continuation of life as we know it.

    Best tasks for Sunday: Rest, relaxing, having fun with loved ones, gardening, grocery shopping, cooking and worship for the purpose of illumination.

    Sunday, Monday and Friday are my favourite days. Honestly, even though I love my job sometimes I think I wouldn’t work if I did not have to. I’d love to be super floaty and have zero obligations! And on Sunday, I get permission to do exactly that. It’s a ‘me day’ where I limit plans and commitments to only things I absolutely adore.

     

    Before I go…

    Remember, these energies are subtle guides, not strict rules. The real magic happens when you tune into your own rhythms and needs.

    Why not experiment with aligning your life and tasks to these cosmic vibes? You might just find your week flowing with newfound ease and joy!

    What’s your favourite day of the week? Let me know in the comments, and I’ll give you examples of how you can use its energy this week!

  • ask vienda anything n° 2

    female founder — my enterprising journey: the timeline, challenges & lessons from a soft, gentle, feminine businessperson

    I recently sent out this q&a (please, keep sending in your questions) and received many questions asking how I run a soft, gentle, feminine-led business.

    Things like…

    “what are your tips on selling?”

    “how do you handle taking risks?”

    “do ever struggle with being seen?”

    “what is your secret behind writing great copy?”

    “what are the neg. aspects of running a business?”

    “how do you define and create financial security?”

    “how do you expand your capacity for increased success?”

    my story • a timeline

    2013 — the beginning

    The first couple of years were the hardest. It was the throw spaghetti at the wall and see what sticks phase.

    I created & promoted free challenges, giveaways, workshops, anything. (To my random little audience of 300.)

    I co-created with women who were ahead. slowly, my concept grew.

    In my spare time learned, learned, learned; business podcasts, books, YouTube videos, PDFs – anything I could get my hands on.

    I stayed in developing countries. hello: Mexico, Guatemala, Nicaragua and Costa Rica (back when they were all still really cheap).

    And then San Francisco and Venice in L.A.

    I lived off savings and took on copywriting and social media contracts to support myself when I ran out of cash.

    2015 — the real beginning

    I remember reading that if your business isn’t making money, then it’s just an expensive hobby. Those words always stayed with me.

    By the end of 2014, I had a roster of clients and a live program. My business was finally supporting me.

    In 2015 I created my first ever online course that made AUD $10,000 (because I had started my business in Australia with an Australian bank account) which I filmed in my friend’s bathroom in Bali (best lighting, cute tile aesthetic) with the relentless roosters crowing in the background.

    I lived in New Zealand and Bali and travelled through Southeast Asia then ended up in Canada with my partner.

    2017 — the cruise

    The tremendous time and energy investment into my business started to level out.

    I didn’t have to work as hard to get in front of audiences, sell courses and sign clients. I was cruising and it felt good. All that effort was worth it.

    I developed 4 more online courses. I taught a 2-day live workshop in London. I out-earned my partner. I left my partner.

    I moved to a 2-bedroom casita in the jungle on the Pacific Coast of Mexico.

    2020 — the peak

    I moved to the seaside town of Brighton in the U.K. to pursue my dream of creating Plannher with a European print house.

    The global panini happened.

    Everyone seemed to have disposable cash and time and I was the busiest I had ever been. I had my first £10,000 month. I was fully booked out. I had over 100 attendees in my online courses.

    Looking at the figures, 2020 and 2021 were big, bountiful beautiful years.

    Looking at my mental health, I was quickly deteriorating.

    Late 2021 I moved to the Mediterranean island of Mallorca to escape the cold British winter.

    2022 — the crash

    I felt dizzy, confused and disabled.

    Anxiety arose out of nowhere. The energy to create and show up to my work and business was radically diminished. I questioned whether I could go on.

    I burnt out.

    By 2023 I crashed.

    And took my foot off the gas. Slowed everything right down. I returned to the U.K. for the soft cocoon of this mothering land.

    And took the year off working as minimally as possible. I dipped into my savings.

    It still surprises me that I made £22,000 working 5-10 hours a week that year.

    And I listened:

    • I needed financial stability (safety)
    • I needed to change my relationship to online visibility
    • I needed to break my addiction to the fast rush of social media

    2024 — flowering anew

    I took my time.

    No force, no pressure, I allowed myself to be moved forward in my business by the gentle nudges of life. An aliveness seeped in. Innovative solutions landed.

    The energy, the pulse and my confidence in myself and my work gently returned.

    So many lessons were learned. Let’s get into those now.

    the lessons • what I know now

    • Some years are flush and others are poor. Trust that there’s a bigger picture at play. Limitless growth is not linear or sustainable. You’ve got to know when something is enough… And save for your fuck off fund. (Lucky I did.)

       

    • There are 5 major functions of a business:
    1. product/service development
    2. customer service
    3. accounting
    4. operations
    5. marketing

     

    • Have either weekly or bi-monthly CEO days. This is when I overview all the various moving pieces and work on my business instead of in it. It’s taking an objective perspective on what is working, what is not, and what I want and need to do to move the needle forward. I normally do this on a Monday.

     

    • 50% of my job is to be a marketer. No one, no matter how good they say they are, can market your products or services for you. I know because I hired someone in 2022 and lost a lot of money in doing so. My business. My responsibility. (The other 50% is everything else, incl. overseeing and managing support and delivering my products and services.)

     

    • Feel genuine appreciation for the financial, location and creative freedoms this venture has given me. Including the intoxicating ability to make a positive difference in this world.

     

    • Less is more. Focus on the 20% of the 80/20 that produces revenue.
    1. get in front of new audiences and encourage referrals and sharing
    2. content marketing (emails/podcasts/social media)
    3. build and nurture community
    4. sell

     

    • Create and lean on systems and structures that make showing up to my “job” easy. Have clear practices & routines; use productivity tools so you don’t have to reinvent the wheel each time.

     

    • Say “no” more than I say “yes”. And be discerning with those yes’s.

     

    • What hurts the most? What are my biggest hopes? Dreams? Desires? Fears? Understanding that is understanding my prospective clients and students because you are like me.

     

    • Sharing the solutions that solve those problems (above) is what creates sales.

     

    • Dream. Plan. Set aims. Follow through. Rinse. Repeat.

     

    • Don’t give your power away.

     

    p.s.: some recommended reading

    • I once had a client who was obsessed with buying toilet paper.

      Her biggest fear every single day was that she might run out of toilet paper.

      So every day, on her way home, she would buy (another) pack of toilet paper. A story about a private client; on clients’ presenting problems; using your insight (intuition); who our clients are; fear of not standing out or being unique enough to succeed; and more… Read it here.

    • Your tools can be replicated… Whether it’s Reiki, coaching, mentoring, yoga teaching, or breathwork— right now, thousands of practitioners are using these same techniques. Here’s what cannot be replicated: the unique way YOU relate to these tools. Your personal experiences, your intuition, your voice. These are what make your practice truly one-of-a-kind. It’s not about the tools themselves, but how you give them shape and voice in your work. Read it here.
    • You yearn for a more intuitive way to help, a heart-centred approach that honours the unique journey. Deep down, you know there’s more to facilitating true healing than what traditional programs offer. As practitioners, we find ourselves armed with tools that barely scratch the surface, ill-equipped to dive into the depths where real transformation occurs. It’s a disheartening realisation. That our training or lack thereof may be holding us back from offering the profound, holistic support our clients truly need. But what if there was a different way? Read it here.

  • my european summer carry-on top 10

    ☀ a list of the most excellent, wonderful and important things that I take with me on summer trips incl. the pièce de résistance which is obviously what I am reading this summer.

    The Carry-On Bag. If you’ve ever sweated the excruciatingly tight baggage allowance of cheap inter-euro flights then you know how annoying it is to find a bag that is just the right size with plenty of space for all the things. Last year after my favourite leather backpack found its mortal end I had to find something to replace it and I dare venture that I did find the perfect and sacrificially practical replacement. The Borderlite Travel Underseat Cabin Approved Backpack in blue has become my saving grace. The front pocket even fits my notebooks, laptop and pens, so my mobile office is always with me.

    ☀

    The Sunscreen. When I told a friend of mine that I don’t believe in sunscreen except for at times like when I was getting burned in the shade in Africa she said “You don’t believe in the science about sunscreen?” and I replied hooking my fingers into air quotes when I said the word science “No, I don’t believe in the “science” which is paid for by marketing companies.” Sun = quite literally life. You just have to know how to use it respectfully. I always have a hat with me in case I feel those rays are a bit too strong, and sometimes when I need it, I use physical mineral sunscreen. My favourite is Everybody Loves the Sunshine Zinc Beach Balm. For rushed moments I also have a Sun Bum stick in my bag at all times.

    ☀

    The Makeup. The beauty of summer is that bronzed skin, glowing eyes and flushed cheeks don’t require any additions. But for a bit more fun I think a slick of mascara or rouge on the lips is all that is needed. I’ve mentioned my favourites in my ‘love list’ here.

    ☀

    The Headphones. Alongside my boring old original wired headphones that need an adaptor to plug into any new Apple phone, I have my beloved Sennheiser Momentum 2 Wireless Over-Ear Headphones in White. I bought them as a gift to myself years ago and they are still one of my most beloved and cherished purchases. The sound quality is schmick as my DJ friends say and I love that they have noise cancellation. Here’s the more recent version of the Sennheiser Momentum in white.

    ☀

    The Toothbrush. My electric Oral B is on its last legs and the things that annoy me the most about it are that it requires constant charging and the charging unit is big and bulky. I do love that electric-toothbrush-only squeaky clean feeling though. So when a friend recommended this £10 alternative whose charge lasts a whole 30 days and can be charged in any USB charging unit I had to try it. The sensation, if you’re accustomed to the circular movement of more traditional electric toothbrushes, is weird at first but it does leave my teeth feeling just as, if not more clean, and I have come to love this toothbrush.

    ☀

    The Deodorant. I will never stop raving about this deodorant because it is both very natural and very effective and I only have to put it on every 4-ish or so days which I love even more and a tube lasts me about a year. It smells like nothing (?) until it starts to wear off and then you smell like you again instead of nothing. Essentially I think it’s the silver in the product that neutralises any smells and I am here for it. I bought a family pack after my first discovery four years ago, gave one tube away to a friend who also can’t stop raving about it now, and I still have two tubes left. I never ever ever want to be without it. The best deodorant.

    ☀

    The Dress(es). Due to a delicate nervous system, I get decision fatigue easily and so what works for me is packing no more than 5 options. My dresses currently in circulation are all from Rouje, Faihtful The Lable, Auguste The Label and Reformation, all bought pre-loved. I’ve written before about what is inside my closet as well as my ultimate guide for preloved online shopping.

    ☀

    The Bikinis. As above, all my bikinis are treasures from Hunza G, Rouje, Spell & The Gypsy Collective, and Faithful The Label that I have virtually unearthed from others’ discard piles.

    ☀

    The Towel. I love a Turkish towel, a light and simple piece of linen to sit on on the beach or by the pool. The one I have now I bought from a street-seller in South Africa so I have no links to that one but maybe when you go on some travels of your own you will find one.

    ☀

    The Books. Ahhh, the pièce de résistance is obviously what I am reading this summer. My current selection is:

    It’s just come to my awareness that I haven’t written a ‘favourites’ book line-up since this one from the summer of 2021. Do you think it’s time for an update? Let me know in the comments below.