And this is my story.

Like so many of us, it has been one of treading water.

Unsteady, unsure and ungrounded, I never really felt sure of where to go or what I should do - I was drowning in my past and murky about my future, occupying a space of dis-ease whereby I couldn't (or at least I didn't think I could) access the resources I needed to sail my own ship. Instead, I did what I thought I should do and tried to follow the pack. Jumping from course to course, I dipped my toes across the arts and sciences. 'Nexting' my way through my twenties, and yearning to be like everyone else. To get a degree and then a job, followed by a house and so on and so forth all before the age of thirty. You know the story. The straight and narrow well worn path which heralds all will be grand. 

And still, there was something deep within me that could not settle. A gentle whisper that I kept ignoring, kept forcing down through distraction and preoccupation.

I had tried different therapies in the past but nothing seemed to work. I thought I must be the problem. And then I was handed a lifeline - Cognitive Hypnotherapy. A form of support that didn't promise to fix me, rather it reminded me of the resources I already have. The resources that live deep within me. The resources that, despite the storms, have kept me swimming.

This shift in perspective helped me realise that how I had been experiencing my world was through a filter of past experiences and my younger self's analysis of those events. My logical brain was making predictions about future events based on past knowledge and this was the way I was operating. I was in amber alert. Ready and anticipating what could happen rather than allowing myself to live as it happens. 

But Cognitive Hypnotherapy helped me change that. I started to listen more to what I actually wanted. To what made me feel like myself. 

I can now see that my non-linear path was a way of teaching me that I didn't need to be this or that. Instead, I could be this and that. That I could integrate my worlds. That there was a place for all that I had to offer. And so I slowly started to find room where I could explore my varied interests. I qualified as a Personal Trainer, fitness coach, yoga teacher, and also nurtured my creative side, studying illustration and later completing my Honours degree in Performing Arts. 

And I suppose it is only now with the benefit of hindsight that I can connect the dots. I was allowing myself to be guided by something bigger than myself.

Caibleadh (Kab-Loo), the distant ocean spirits.

Perhaps you could say.

It is a term I stumbled across in the third year of my Performing Arts degree while I was writing a play called The Legend of The Blaze. 

At the time of writing, this tale's sole purpose was to fulfil my playwriting module brief. A task with a deadline and one that had to be checked off the list. Only now, as I look back, I can see that there was something bigger at play. I was being drawn towards topics and worlds I needed to discover. I was being guided by own Caibleadh. Those distant spirit voices from the sea were the voice of my intuition, trying to move me in some other direction. I had felt this quiet voice before, but was reluctant to hear its call. Instead, I berated myself for changing course, finding myself swimming against the current, fighting storm after storm, and losing myself beneath the swell. It was as if the unfathomed parts of me were trying to reach the surface, searching for that place of calm where I could set my anchor down. Where I could just be.

But I now see that there had been something deeper down all along. An inner Caibleadh or compass guiding me through these thresholds. These periods of transformation, while tempestuous and trying, had actually been the rites of passage necessary for the next stage of my journey. And we all go through them. We all must learn the lessons we need to learn, gather the skills we require and then let the rest go. For me, I needed to learn how to allow myself to outgrow the hard shell that had kept me safe for so long and move towards a version of life that felt exciting. That felt like home. I just had't realised that I had been moving towards this place from the beginning. 

With fresh eyes I returned to nature. This time, not as a form of escape, but rather an extension of my home. Taking a outside-in approach, I began reminding myself of all those things I used to love, like dancing and moving and laughing and playing.

And in playing and having fun, I returned to the ocean. My true nature. Diving in headfirst and realising how much I had missed the cold salty blue of the Atlantic. 

It was here I found surfing. A way of being with the water. Of anchoring myself into that feeling of being connected to something bigger than myself. It was as if surfing gave me that permission I had been looking for - to feel held and free at the same time. 

The waves woke me up to life. 

To the power of the pause. 

That deep listening, 

To let my body and my mind hear and feel and know what the wave needs. What I need. Letting me build my confidence and trust that I can move with the wave and not against the current.