It started with a promise to my dog

So many times I promised my beautiful white husky x lab Molly, that she would be able to run free, to live in a place where there was no traffic whizzing by the houses I rented in Dublin, that one day we wouldn't have to drive 30 mins to a green space. I breathed my dreams into her velvet soft ears that one day when we had more space, she would have a brother or sister dog to keep her company. I swore I’d have more time for longer walks, that I’d choose to play ball over answering emails. That we would have a different life, one in which we wouldn’t feel like this was all there was.

That's how the journey out of the city began - a journey that took me a few years to finally make it back home to Co. Kerry. The last few years feel like I've been laying out paths, placing rounds of chopped wood as steps one in front of the other like stepping stones and walking the very path I am creating piece by piece.

Often when we are IN something, we don't really see how far we've come. This week something happened that was like seeing into a mirror for the first time in a long time and realising how very different I look now to how I used to. So an electrician was fixing some dodgy socket in the house, the furniture was pulled out into the centre of kitchen, he and two other young men were busy in and out connecting wires to bring power to the old barn so I can host events in the darker evenings too (how exciting!) I was trying to cook lunch in the midst of the chaos, I gave up and took a big black, cast iron pot and tripod down to the barn.  With my cold hands, I stacked a few small twigs and wispy dried grass together, sparked a match and made a fire, over which to cook an aromatic vietnamese pho soup, full of spice and goodness. The lads moved over and back nearby as I cooked. With their tall ladder, I asked would they mind hanging up two bat boxes on a high point above the shed. I continued brewing my lunch as the fire smoked and crackled.

Later in the week I was recounting this story to a group of senior citizens in a day care centre where I teach yoga weekly and someone called out - "they'll think you're a witch"! I laughed heartily and felt absolutely delighted that I, the woman who once felt chained to a desk and held hostage in a city, could now be living life as a potential witch in the pine forest. And proudly I continue to lay down the wooden stepping stones to take me deeper into the woods.

I wonder how many of you reading this also murmur promises like the ones I made to Molly years ago, to your children, your pets, to yourself, in the bleery eyed light of a foggy dawn as you sit in traffic watching streams of red tail lights ahead? I wonder if instead of swiping on a flat screen, you long to breathe in the scent of damp earth and watch the light fall from the day as you take a night-time walk before bed? Do you yearn to go on spontaneous roadtrips, fling your hiking boots in the car and leave without a watch? Or wish your whatsapp was buzzing with invites to come surfing or to pull up a log by the fire for a brew under a full moon, or an impromptu text to go to grab your wooly hat, a flask of tea and stuff some biscuits in your pocket, to watch the rooks come home to nest as you sit on a damp stone wall with no where else to be? Or do you allow your fingers to walk with feather touch along the spines of gardening books in the library, wishing you knew how to grow your own vegetables? Do you yearn for more nature, more adventure, more peace and freedom?

PLEASE tell me! Write to me and let me know if you yearn too, because I ache for more time outdoors, I am hungry to learn more about what grows beneath my feet, to know the call of the birds that rustle the trees around me without having to open an app to tell me, I want more friendships with people keen to share adventures. I need less stuff and more trees! I KNOW I can’t be the only one here! I’d love to hear from you, because sometimes walking the road less travelled can feel a little bit lonely right?

My podcasts have changed from things like "Habits of Highly Successful People" and "How to lead from the front" type titles to "Why Women Grow" or "As the Season Turns", chosen book titles have changed from "Learning & Development in Ireland" and "Who moved my Cheese?" to "Wilder Journeys" and "Slow - Simple Living for a Frantic World". And yes, I earn less now, but yet I always seem to have enough and in many ways, so much more.

I'd like to share a little more of the things I love with you - blogs about hikes, my favourite roadtrip playlists, nature podcasts I devour, nature-inspired events, classes and retreats you’re always invited to. Join my enewsletter below to be kept in the loop and receive these little coordinates that might lead you off down a new trail! I’m happy to show you the wooden stepstones I've laid down so far, in case it inspires you to start carving out your own more nature-inspired way of living and tap into your own call of the wild. In case you have promises to keep.....

Get in touch - drop me an email (ebbflowyogaireland@gmail.com), a comment below, hit me up with a DM on Instagram. I’d love to hear from you and perhaps we can navigate new paths all together.