I reread Ursula Le Guin’sEarthsea quartet, her ideas about shadow selves, our fears, running away, then turning and hunting down what terrifies us made perfect sense to me. Her Earthsea is another world, perfectly delineated in a map I studied again and again. Years later I read how and when she had created those maps: in her kitchen, on a roll of

When you swim, you must swim with the waves. When you go against them, they work against you. It’s easier to surf over them than to slice through. Labour is the same. If you breathe with the contractions, know each one is a wave to get over, that the pain will last 40 to 60 seconds and then subside; if your breathing is good and correct and you kee

When we visit Kerry is the only time I fully accept this part of me, and maybe that is why I am so happy there. I accept there is magic all around me, and I fall into it as easily as the kids fall into the sea from the pier – naturally, magnetically, like we are called and our answer is to fall, to pierce the depths.

When death and grief came at me, when they threatened to take down my walls, I often pictured myself clad in a bombproof vest, picking my way through a minefield. That’s what the early days of death felt like to me, like if I put a foot wrong, everything would explode.

Later, I went to a beach nearby. I sat on a boulder and watched the green sea surge in and recede, eating up the stones and sand as the tide advanced. I sat there for hours, took off my boots and dipped my feet in the freezing water and seriously considered stripping off and getting in. The sea called me, and I didn’t answer it. But I sat on the st

We come back from the brink changed. A little deeper, a little darker, a tad more appreciative of everyday things – beating hearts, lungs that work, functional limbs. We are marked by an unholy pain and are more considered in everything we

a soldier, giving up is not an option. You pull on your boots, you keep your kit in order, and your rifle is always clean. You’re alert and ready for the worst when it hits you.

Here are some of the words: you put one foot in front of the other and you carry on. You keep watch, soldier, and maintain your guard. You answer the alarm every single morning, get up, and get your children to school. You shop for food you don’t want to eat, but eating it keeps you alive, so. You pay bills. You go to bed, even though sleep is a lo

Querencia (n) (Spanish) – a place from where one’s strength is drawn, where one feels most at home; the place where you are your most authentic self