Way before "stories = letters forming words", they would be carried from the mouths of our elders to the eager ears of a younger generation of listeners. Tales of fire and creation - of seas, lakes and mountains. The wonderful animations around the family tree of all things starry and celestial. These ancient tales were not fixed things, back then. There were no documented points of reference, or scrolls unfurled in proclamation. The stories moved from firelight to shadow, a

"Did you have a good Christmas and New Year?".. I mean, that is about as soft, low risk enquiry as we could possibly be asked at this time of year. It's almost so seasonal, that we could wear it as a sign around our necks so we can avoid even saying the actual words.. It's a verbal handshake. No sharp edges. Not a trick question. At all. "Yes, thanks..we didn't do much; long, lovely dog walks, too much to eat and some catch-ups with a few dear friends... You?".. The answer is

Somewhere around the two-week mark, January starts to itch. The pristine list of resolutions is still magnet-fast on the door of our fridge, exactly as we wrote it. The intentions are still there, yet you perhaps suspect that enthusisam might be trying to call a cab. New Year confidence - "this time will be different" - has been replaced by something more familiar: realism.

The word surrender did not always carry the white flag with which we associate its use today. It comes into English from the Old French "surrendre" - formed from sur (over) and rendre (to give back). Its Latin root, reddere, means to return, to restore, to hand back what was borrowed.

I’ve read many letters addressed to "my younger self" — tender reassurances around forgiveness, written backwards in time. They traditionally offer consolation, advice, and love to our former child—the one who felt unseen and misunderstood. There is a big hug and a loving lullaby to be less hard on yourself. These messages in the rear-view mirror are often kind and always well-intended. But they tend to lean into the (slightly) pompous clarity of hindsight. On reflection, eve

I used to love that day in school, when we were given a brand new writing book. It was a thing of mint, undefiled beauty - filling us with a quiet, focused determination to write really nicely. To do really well. I mean, OK, we were easily pleased back then, but there was still an undeniable thrill which - to this day - draws me helplessly to the pen and ink of the stationery shop. New books, new beginnings, New Years. They are all versions of a familiar and robust re-set. Th

Mirrors aren’t always about what we need to fix — sometimes they show us how far we’ve come. I have used mirrors as a decorating accessory for years, to bounce light around a room, to open up a space or bring the outside in. But it wasn't until I began using them for personal growth that they took on a different meaning. We’ve all had that moment when we look into a mirror and find that new line, that little dot that no one else would every notice, but seems enormous to us. S

Chef Kris Báhn Strydonck was born in Nong Kai, in Thailand and raised by his bar-tender Mother, who claimed to work for the CIA. His culinary journey started with a Street Food cart, which he refused to push himself, saying "Darling...my hands are my precious".. Hello darlings on Platform 13 and welcome to the New Year !! "Sawatdee Pii Mai"... as we say back home in Thailand. I send you greetings from my adopted home in France, that I love so much.. so many moustaches, so lit

Out of the 65,000 thoughts we have a day, 95% are largely sub-conscious. How many of those are kind reflections, and how many are deeply critical? Well, that is difficult to know, simply because of the very nature of the “sub” conscious. Pause for a moment… What are you thinking right now? What little tiny flash did you just have? Was it gentle and loving or carry a hint of judgement?

I have heard many versions of "They say it takes...(think of a number)...days," to form or break a habit. The number being determined according to who you are standing beside at the bus stop. Also,"They" might be a "Them" as the number keeps changing, being strung between "7 days", "28 times", "3 months", "up to a year" and "just twice"... Ah..here comes the bus. Thank God...

Truffles have been around since the Pharaos were in short pants. Quite why the first sandal kicked the first truffle, prompting its wearer to bend down and take a mouthful, is another story altogether. But we have been loving them ever since... King Francis I of France (let's hope he didn’t endure the challenges of rhotacism) was the first noble notable to put truffles on the royal platter. His truffly gusto was duly noted by the brilliant lawyer-turned-chef, Jean Brillat-Sav

Each year, we leap forward with enthusiasm, believing obstacles will vanish with the turn of the calendar page. We think that with the change of date, the obstacles in our paths will miraculously disappear; life will be different. And you know what? It is, and it isn’t. Today is different than yesterday. Even if invisible, the planet has shifted; the sun rises earlier and sets later, and our cells regenerate. However, our challenges may remain the same because we haven’t chan

I have always thought of exhaustion as a physical thing. The outer limit of fatigue. An elevated, adult sense of tiredness that comes from our own sense of just doing too much. It's personal, of course, because we each have our own sliding scale of feeling "sapped", which varies with age, fitness and foibles. But let's take a minute to look at exhaustion through a different lens. As a cause rather than an effect - the result of something much deeper than that old chestnut of

It’s the last month of the year — a season of celebrations and festivities designed to brighten the darker days. But what is December, really? Dec- once meant the tenth month until calendars were reshaped to suit emperors, systems, farmers, and politics. Even the moon keeps its own measure of thirteen lunar cycles, reminding us that time is elastic more often than we gather. This certainly isn’t a lesson about timekeeping, but a gentle question about how we spend the time we

December is often called the month of giving — wrapped boxes, warm gestures, small surprises left on doorsteps. But for every act of giving, there is an act of receiving. And strangely, that’s the part many of us find to be the harder of the two to do with grace. We all know the feeling...

Vanessa and I are currently in the quiet throws of the annual gift search. For us, being in the beautiful depths of rural France, it is all about Amazon. Most of our pressies are UK bound anyway, and life is easier, cheaper and so much more convenient without the need to manage postal deadlines or their astronimical, associated costs.

There is a particular kind of pressure that arrives every December, almost as predictable as the myriad lights and endless lists. That little "gift" that slips quietly into our thoughts before we’ve even noticed its pre-paid weight. "This year, it has to feel magical. This year, I'll get a real tree. A big one. This year, I’ll get it right..."

A year-end inventory around who I’m keeping, who I’m releasing, and why clarity is a kind form of courage. "Well that's not very "Happy New Year of you"... No, perhaps not. But we are only a fortnight from 2026, and our New Years resolutions - the biggest, most bombastic, annual re-set tale we tell oursleves. People talk a lot about New Year, New Me - but the truth is, these delusional decisions don't generally fall into the silo of "real change". Resolutions are more-than-a-

Christmas...the great revealer of who people really are. There is something about the holidays where grinches and gaslighters find their normal camouflage difficult to don. Perhaps because the festive season is ostensibly about the core values of love, tradition and unadulterated joy, toxic personality types in particular, find themselves sorely lacking the opportunity to grab the kind of attention, admiration and entitlement they so desperately crave.

Soulstice Immersions are two-week, women-only experiences, designed to help us come home to ourselves - through courage, creativity and connection. The quiet clarity that emerges when life finally gives us space to breathe.