We were swimming in the lake at Barefoot & Bower. The sky was a deep blue, framed by tall, lush trees and at the centre was the lake.

I felt completely in the moment and at peace in the water. At ease enough to share the idea that had just flown into my brain and been received in my body with a deep guttural YES.

I wanted to hold an event where people came to wild swim and write from their wild voices. I explained that the two activities are both firmly placed in the body and complement each other beautifully.

The time between; when not much appears to be happening at all, waiting, still. It’s a space of deep creativity and inspiration. It’s these liminal spaces where I often find mine. For me they are walks, travelling, the time between arriving and starting. They can be rich, safe and difficult to leave. They can also be full of fear, exposure and vulnerability. Often its easier to squeeze in more jobs, to fill them with doing. Then they are lost.

When someone writes a book, they are thought of as an authority on that subject. It is not a coincidence that writers of books are called authors! For many of my clients the thought of being dubbed an expert is terrifying, even if they do have a ton of knowledge and years of experience. What if they are wrong? The thing is that is okay, here is why.

The art of rest and recuperation when you are in darkness waiting for the light to return.

A term coined by Katherine May in her memoir ‘Wintering’.

I found something funny last Saturday morning. This was a big relief as my sense of humour had dried up in the past few weeks.

When I tell people that I’m an editor, there is often an awkward silence as they think about how they should reply. After all, Isn’t spotting and correcting typos a redundant job? We have all seen typos in the books we’ve read; and for many years now word processing software displays red lines underneath misspelled words or blue lines under ugly phrasing.

Thoughts about overcoming writer’s block.