This morning I was listening to a podcast about a woman who left Hollywood, moved to Fiji, and ended up rethinking how investment works from the ground up. Hearing her made me hopeful - in a specific way. That's what a voice from outside your world can do. It changes the altitude from which you see your own situation. That's the seed of the Lighthouse Talks - and the first one is this Tuesday, 28 April, free and online.
For the female founder, the creative entrepreneur, and the local business owner who is pouring her heart into her work but feeling overwhelmed, overstretched, and under-rewarded.
Running a business can be a lonely journey. You're the visionary, the maker, the marketer, and the bookkeeper, all rolled into one. But when the weight of it all leads to burnout, it's time for a new approach.
From a young age, I trusted an inner compass—a felt sense of integrity and direction. Following it gave my life meaning, but it also led me through loneliness, grief, and a painful reckoning with the belief that meaning guarantees safety.
This is a reflection on will, integrity, and what changes when we stop outsourcing our safety and learn to sail with the forces within us.
I grew up believing that rest had to be earned. For me, there was a magic number: 38.4 — sick enough to be allowed to stop, but not too sick to enjoy being cared for. Years later, I can see this pattern clearly in myself and in my coaching work:
so many of us learned to rest only when our bodies, minds, or lives force us to.
What if we operated in this world within our capacity? What if we didn’t have to navigate the constant experience of lack?
With the new year starting, I felt the pull to design and clarify 2026. But I didn’t feel ready. 2025 went so fast, and I was tired. The holidays did not charge me up. I came into January with a deep need to rest, to stop.
I didn’t feel clear, and the idea of deciding on yearly goals and setting up projects made me want to crawl under the duvet.
Chaos has been my lifelong companion. Growing up undiagnosed neurodivergent, I learned to survive by organising the mess — inside and out. But what happens when sorting is no longer the answer?
In this reflective piece, I explore chaos, creativity, coaching, and what it means to end a year without rushing to fix or define what comes next.
Words like overwhelmed, juggling, busy, tired, and stressed are ones I know intimately. And they’re words I hear again and again from the women I work with. Running a business brings freedom and creativity—but it can also bring a level of load and mental noise that is simply too much for one person to hold.
In January 2026, I’m offering a new 4-week hands-on course in Clonakilty for women who want to feel clearer, calmer, more creative and more focused in the year ahead.
She let her body move with the fast rhythm, responding in small ways to the movements of the people around her. A back arched forward and arms moving like around a fire; quick jumps and fast leg movements; arms moving in curves and circles; she exchanged smiling glances with the dancers, letting her body dissolve and forget its form. She could see lines of light extending from each palm and foot. The lines were connecting between the dancers, coming in and out, moving and twisting, colour shifting and changing. They were all connected, and together they were making a beautiful vision of remembrance. This is what she came here for.
