We move through the week so easily that we rarely stop to notice the names we give to our days. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday…They feel ordinary, worn smooth by use. And yet, beneath them, something very old still lives.

I’ve been thinking about Vipassana meditation. That old Buddhist practice of simply observing: breath, body, sensation, thought. Not trying to change anything. Not striving. Just noticing what is here.

Have you ever wondered where the names of the planets really come from?

There is a thought that has stayed with me for some time. That astrology may have begun not as prediction, but as poetry . Long before telescopes or scientific models, people looked up at the night sky and saw something extraordinary. The planets moved. The stars returned in their seasons. The Moon waxed and waned with quiet regularity. But more than that — it all seemed to mean something . In ancient Mesopotamia, the earliest astrologers began to record the movements of the

So, one begins to wonder: how much more historically “true” is one religion than another? Egyptian religion, Greek religion, the traditions of Mesopotamia — all of them were once held with deep conviction by people who felt they knew the gods. Perhaps all religions, at least in part, are shaped by human attempts to understand something larger than ourselves.

In my meditation this morning, I was thinking of the kabbalistic sphere of Yesod, where we experience a descent into the Underworld — the place of dreams and vision. I know of two ways of doing this: to visit the Greek Persephone and Hades in their kingdom of the afterlife; or to descend with the Mesopotamian Inanna to a confrontation with her sister, Erishkagal, queen of the underworld. I felt I wanted some other ideas; and I found myself thinking of the biblical story from

I suppose it was inevitable that my writing would drift towards the mysterious and the romantic — I’ve always had a soft spot for both. Even when I was younger, I loved stories that sent a little shiver down the spine: old houses with secrets, echoes from the past, mysterious letters, and the feeling that something unseen might be standing just behind you. At the same time, I’ve always been drawn to love stories — not just the happy-ever-after kind, but the deep, complex ones

The Healing Power of Animals There are few things in life as centring as the quiet presence of an animal. This morning, as I walked with Harley and Heidi through the soft gold of early autumn light, I was reminded again of just how deeply they help to steady me. The rhythm of paws on grass, the easy wag of tails, and the occasional glance back to check that I’m keeping up — it all slows my breath and returns me to the simple heartbeat of the moment. Animals have always been p

When I was deep into writing Unquiet Love , most of the work happened late at night — after the animals were settled, the house was...

When my daughter was small, we had a nightly ritual of bedtime stories. Sometimes it was classics from the shelf, but often she would...

🌿 Welcome to the first in my series of spiritual reflections.  I’ll be sharing little glimpses of my daily practices, meditations, and...

I've been fascinated with reading most of my life, and also with producing some of my own stories. This is a little piece about some of my earlier attempts!

I’ve always been a reader. As far back as I can remember, I’ve had a book in my hand, or at the very least something to read in front of...