Foraging for mindfulness


Hi friends, long time no type.

This is always what happens around this time of year. As much as I say that summer is my least favorite season, as soon as the sun comes out and the weather warms up, I want to spend all of my time outside and none of it writing blog posts. I think it helps that it doesn’t get as ungodly hot and humid in Ireland as it does other places I’ve lived (and the sun and warmth aren’t givens either, so I always want to make the most of it).

Then autumn rolls around, and I start feeling like, well, I suppose a bit like hibernating animals feel as they get ready for the cold, dark days of winter. I get productive and motivated, preparing things and getting things done. Although I obviously don’t need to eat my weight in salmon or lay in a supply of acorns, I do get that “end of year” feeling around September where I start to wrap up some summer projects, start winter ones, and look ahead to my little New Year routines like setting up my bullet journal. 

I know that I fall victim to SAD, particularly with Ireland’s extremely short, usually rainy days, so having routines and hobbies and things to look forward to helps. But I love this transitional time, when the air gets crisp and the days are shorter but not too short, and when I can take my summer activities into autumn. 

I’ve gotten into foraging in the past couple of years, the fullness of the hedgerows and the lack of poison ivy in Ireland combining to create a good environment for it. I began with picking blackberries on all of my walks, sometimes coming back with a kilogram in only the half hour or hour I’d spend outside at lunch. 

I’ve since branched (ha) out to hawthorns, sloes, elderberries, yarrow, meadowsweet. Basically anything that is easily recognizable and not potentially lethal. Like, I’d love to start foraging mushrooms, but I’d definitely want to get some expert training first; I’m not about to start just eating fungi out of the ground (cue “dumb ways to die” jingle). 

I took my last foraging walk over the weekend, just before they cut the hedgerows back along the rows, in order to grab one last haul of sloes. Then, outdoor adventures completed, I turned to my indoor activity of processing my harvest. Some of the things I’ve made so far: 

  • Blackberry wine
  • Blackberry jam
  • Blackberry and apple crumble
  • Blackberry muffins
  • Blackberry cheesecake bars
  • Blackberry Bakewell 
  • Blackberry syrup
  • Elderberry syrup
  • Elderberry tincture
  • Elderberry powder
  • Yarrow powder
  • Yarrow tea
  • Yarrow oil
  • Meadowsweet tea
  • Sloe gin 
  • Hawthorn jam

And I’m still planning to try some oxymels and ketchups and a few other recipes with what I’ve got left. 

One thing I really enjoy about the process is how it almost feels like a ritual. I’ve been trying to get back into a yoga routine lately, and it feels similar, the journey of slowing down and making deliberate movements. 

There are a dozen hacks online for the easiest and quickest way to remove tiny elderberries from their bushy stems, but why do we always need the easiest and quickest options? Why would I freeze the branches for faster removable or scrape the berries away with a fork to take them off in clusters rather than individually when I could sit cross-legged on the floor, listening to music and separating the berries from their stems one by one. It’s meditative.  

Anyway, my goal for this year was to write at least 20 blog posts and this is number 19, so you’ll be hearing from me at least once more in the next few months. But as the temperatures drop and the days get shorter and I’m spending more time inside, I hope to spend more time writing as well, so I’d like to think there’ll be more than one more blog post coming along. 

I have been reading an ungodly amount of books, so there’ll at least be a few book reviews on the horizon. The kind of thing you could read over blackberry jam on toast and a cup of mint tea. 

Beginning and rebeginning

I’ve always thought of the new year as coming in two parts. There’s the first of January, obviously, and then because my birthday is also in January I think of it as the second part. The world’s new year, and my personal new year. 

Since moving to Ireland, I’ve also come to embrace Imbolc at the start of February (especially now that designating St Brigid’s day a bank holiday has given us an extra long weekend to break up the long, cold stretch between New Year’s and Paddy’s Day). Though as far as I know Imbolc was not the traditional start of the new year, it is considered the start of spring in the Irish calendar, and that in itself is a new beginning. 

I know not everyone likes new year resolutions, and I understand the argument against. If you want to make a change in your life, you don’t have to tie it to an arbitrary spot on the calendar. But for me, I love to set intentions across the period between New Year’s Day and my birthday, and now Imbolc — basically over the course of January, rather than deciding them on day one, I give myself time to turn them over in my mind, and let them develop. 

There’s a bit of ritual to the whole process, sure. I always light a candle, pull a few tarot cards, start a list in my bullet journal, and so on, but mostly it’s the thinking that’s the important part. 

At work, we talk about goals in terms of the SMART acronym: specific, measurable, achievable, relevant, time-bound. And some of my resolutions fall into these categories. I did parkrun 17 times last year; this year I’m trying for 20. It’s fun and satisfying to have things to check off the list (two parkruns down, 18 to go). 

But some of my resolutions don’t fit a single one of the SMART factors. There’s nothing specific about nourishing my creative soul or time-bound about deepening my relationship to nature. And achievable? How would I even know? 

On a similar note, most of my resolutions are the same year after year. Sometimes it’s because I’ve let them slip as the months go by — like the eager January gym-goers whose numbers thin out by April, sometimes life gets in the way. I mostly dropped out of my yoga practice last year, and I’ve updated my blog more times in the three weeks of this year than I did in all of 2024. Sometimes getting started again is as lovely and important as getting started the first time.

Likewise, the intentions that cannot be measured — cultivating creative energy, exploring spiritual growth (or “going full witch” as my best friend called it), striving for a better world — these are resolutions for every year, forever. These are lifelong journeys, not goals that can be completed.

And does it matter? Not a bit. Come next year, I’ll set the same intentions again. And in the time between, these things will begin and they’ll begin and they’ll grow and they’ll end and they’ll begin again, and we’ll see what happens. I look forward to it.

On my 28th birthday, to my 18-year-old self

Today is my 28th birthday, which means I have been an adult for exactly a decade. Legally, anyway—while I might’ve been sure I was 100% an adult the second the clock ticked over to midnight on January 19, 2009, looking back I’m pretty sure you don’t actually feel grown-up until at least… 23? 27? 35? Somewhere around there.

Fittingly, there’s a “challenge” going around social media right now to post a photo of yourself 10 years ago and today, either to see your “glow up” or, more negatively, “how hard aging hit you.” Here’s mine:

Ah yes, the “myspace-angle selfies in the park” days

The humidity is doing a lot to my hair, none of it good

Definite glow up.

If I could talk to my 18-year-old self now, there’s a lot I would say (after I made her take off that terrible eyeliner).

Continue reading “On my 28th birthday, to my 18-year-old self”

Building balance to beat burnout

Last year I had a job I couldn’t quit. When I left the States, my plan was to leave the job as well, but I couldn’t resist leaving the door open (the job was online so I could work from anywhere). When I got a job in Wellington, I intended to leave the other job, but I told myself that making extra money was always good and it wasn’t like I was doing much in my evenings anyway. Essentially, I had two full-time jobs for most of my year in New Zealand. When I moved to Australia, I finally sent that “Sorry, I won’t be able to do the job any longer” email… but I still left the door open for a return.

It’s not because I love the job or even the pay; it’s because I feel like if I’m not constantly working, I’m doing something wrong. Right now, I’m “funemployed” as I look for work here in Australia, but I’m keeping busy in addition to job-hunting. I ran 50km last week, I’m doing yoga every day, I’m updating my blog more regularly than I ever have, I’m reading, I’m doing most of the grocery shopping and laundry and almost all of the cooking. I’m hardly just sitting on my bum watching Say Yes to the Dress reruns (I mean, that’s what I’m doing right at this moment, but in general).

Continue reading “Building balance to beat burnout”

Soundtrack for a Strong Start

New year, new me, same old podcast addiction. The medium is producing stronger work than ever, with countless topics, and I love them all. I have at least 60 podcasts on my subscription list—although, in fairness, they don’t all run continuously and I don’t listen to every episode of every show. Anyway, I’ve given plenty of recommendations for podcasts in the past, but the start of the new year seems like the perfect time for a few more. Here are some great listens full of learning and growth to spark your curiosity and inspire your fresh starts.

Continue reading “Soundtrack for a Strong Start”

A year of reconnection

Like most people on this first day of the year, I am thinking about 2019 and the goals I’d like to accomplish. I’ve got a couple fairly typical items on my list (read 50 books, run a marathon) that I don’t feel warrant their own post, but one of my resolutions for the year is not something specific, but rather a theme. I don’t want to simply set goals at the beginning of the year and check them off the list; instead I’d like to set intentions and adjust my goals as I see where the year takes me. I want 2019 to be a year of reconnection. I’ve been thinking about what that means to me, and I’ve split it up into four categories.

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