Why are we here?

So why are we here?

Don’t worry. This isn’t a rambling esoteric discourse. Or a grumble.

Instead, it’s a short reflection at the still point between the waves.

Asking to revisit our stories about what brought us here. To this place. At this time.

Perhaps it’s a way of earthing our lives in a sea of turbulence and uncertainty.

Be still and know
the space between the waves,
where time and effort is suspended.

Grounded here

I took this photograph on my way back from doing our weekly shop this morning.

The main road out of the village was temporarily closed for repairs so I took the back route. And then returned over the common above our valley.

This view, though in reverse looking over the Loughor Estuary at sunset, was what took our breath away when we first ventured up here in 2005.

Never imagining that we’d ever live here… It wasn’t in the plan.

Yes, it was. And for those of you who know our story, you will be familiar with the crunch times when we didn’t think we could stay.

And yet every time things have happened – outside of our control – that has firmly kept us here.

So we trust.

Be still and know
doing is an expression of being
but not it’s substitute.

Trusting that we are here for purpose. That it’s not just about us. And trusting that we can hang on in… for as long as we need to.

Because here is where we belong. For now.

I wonder, what is the story that you have been telling yourself about why you are here, where you are? And does it still ring true, or do you need to dig a little deeper?

Belonging here

I’ve been discovering that there is more to being here than just the physical location. It’s also about belonging.

Being part of something that is bigger than us as individuals. But not having to prove we meet the entry requirements. Or earn the right to remain.

This is hugely important to us as human beings. And I wonder if this is something we are starting to recover in this space between the waves.

Be still and know
is an inner invitation
whose time has come.

As someone who is more naturally at the edge, I’ve been surprised to recognise and embrace my need to belong.

Like the opening of a tightly curled bud, I wasn’t expecting the scent to be so beautiful or enticing.

This has been something I have been gently exploring over the last two years. Taking tentative steps forward. However, it was an experience with the extraordinarily perceptive filmmaker, Alison Coates, this week that opened my eyes much further.

Alison combines her skills in coaching and film making to create an amazing space for Time and Attention. Being on the other side of the lens for a change, I found myself exploring what was holding me back from crossing the threshold in my work.

What it came down to was not realising that I belonged. And because of that, constantly feeling I didn’t quite have what it takes to create the work I want to make.

But actually the door was already open for me. I didn’t have to try so hard…

Be still and know
‘welcome – you belong’
translates in any language.

May we be welcomed and grounded in knowing why we are here at this time.

Thanks for reading

Sue x

This week

Has been long and a little disorientating for many of us. I hope these daily ripples of quietly disruptive wisdom – and the photographs from the valley – have helped.