Sometimes I want to burn it all down

The other day my son asked me, “What’s your hobby, Mummy?”

Without thinking, I answered, “Gardening.”

Last week my friend Kyle said to me, “I think you’ve finally found your niche… unhinged rose garden witch.”

The funny thing is, I don’t think I’ve found a niche. I think I’ve stopped translating myself into something more palatable.

The two things I’ve shared recently on Instagram that people responded to most were a random video of me collecting cherry blossom petals in a massive bag on my morning walk, and Earth Cocooning, a ritual I created with my friend Tash for The Sanctuary Glastonbury Pilgrimage Retreat.

Neither was created with an algorithm in mind. Both came from listening to a deep yearning in my body. Both were things I’d been doing whether anyone was watching or not.

Maybe it’s unmasking. Maybe it’s midlife. Maybe it’s the solar flares. Whatever it is, a fire has been burning within me lately. I’ve been thinking a lot about artists, mystics and sensitives.

We need to find sustainable ways to let visionaries, temple keepers, healers, mystics and artists be who they are without having to contort themselves around constant output or water down the transmission to make it more palatable.

I never set out to create a business. I was called to create. There is a difference. Art is meant to confront. Healing and mystery do too. All of that has been screaming within me lately.

It’s why I wrote Sometimes I Want to Burn It All Down…

If you’ve ever wondered what it costs to stay true to your work in a world that rewards constant output… if you long to create rather than produce, to protect the gift rather than feed the machine… I wrote this for you.

Love,
Rebecca xoxo