Connecting across the Celtic Sea
A celebration of SoulCircle and writerly inspiration and collaboration
I joined
’s SoulCircle writing community two weeks after I started writing on Substack. On July 11th 2024, the day before our first Live Writing Circle, I wrote my first comment on a note from Beth announcing this inaugural event. responded positively to my comment, and it made my day. I looked out for her on the screen of faces in our live circle, and loved the poem Hope for my daughter that she posted after our call.And so it began, my first friendship here on Substack, in this deeply nourishing SoulCircle community.
We began by commenting on one another’s posts and notes, glimpsing through our words the light of each other’s souls, the fire in our hearts, our griefs and longings. I cried when I read this beautiful piece, Meadow Grass and a Mother’s Love, about the loss of her baby Jo, and her lyrical love for the land.
They change the way you see things. Babies, I mean. They make you see the things that you have stopped seeing, or maybe never fully saw at all. Since my youngest was born, on 14th July 2023, one year and one day after our baby girl, Jo, came… went… I have spent four seasons walking through the fields, with him attached to me. Now, he is completely engaged in the world around him, completely awestruck by all he sees, head-spun by the sounds he hears and desperate to explore, through touch, the textures of everything. When he notices something new, he points to it and with his urgent little 'ah-ah-ah' noises, leans in the direction he wants to go. I drop to my honkers and pull a blade of grass for him to hold. Before I hand it to him, I run its soft head through my fingers. I don't know when I first learned it was a seedhead, that this is where next years grass lies in wait, hundreds of seeds, pregnant with hope, all that potential wrapped up in this tiny tuft. When I touch it, I imagine lying in a bed of it, it feels like fabric, comfort, softer than cotton. He holds it, waving it. Beneath our feet, I count at least five different types of grass.
Aoibhin McSwift— Meadow Grass and a Mother’s Love
We started chatting, met on Zoom, connected on WhatsApp and discovered a deep and resonant connection. Much to my surprise Aoibhin invited me to create a podcast with her. I’d never even listened to a podcast, let alone thought about making one. She suggested some podcasts I may like to listen to, and by September we were discussing possible names and themes for our podcast.
Aoibhin lives near the east coast of Ireland, on a farm in County Wicklow. I live near the west coast of Wales. We both have a deep love of our Celtic heritage: the wild and ancient landscapes; the rivers and restless seas; the mystic hills and enfolding valleys; the myths and stories that ripple in the waters, stand sentinel in the trees and stones. When I looked on the map, I saw that we are almost opposite one another, across the Celtic Sea.
She supported me when I had surgery on my face. I supported her when her son was in A&E. We asked one another for advice and feedback when we were both writing about challenging times, seeking to find the nuggets of gold in the pain we had experienced as mothers, so our words would bring comfort and healing to our readers.
We also discovered that we both work to heal, in our professions and with our words. Aoibhin’s Substack is called ‘Healing Woman’, she is a very successful women’s therapist, and is helping countless women to live healthier and more comfortable lives. I founded the Mulberry Bush, a wholefood store, and trained as a nutritionist, I’ve been advising customers about a healthy diet and lifestyle for over fifty years.
We decided in January to call our podcast Maiden, Mother, Crone. We would focus on the three different stages in the life of women, and explore how they correspond to the archetypal three-in-one goddess. In March I invited my granddaughter, Alisha, to be the Maiden. Aoibhin is the Mother, and I have the honour of being the Crone.
We launched our first podcast on the Spring Equinox, March 21st, and plan to release a new episode on each of the eight Celtic Earth Festivals. Collaborating with Aoibhin, and Alisha has been immense fun, and a steep learning curve as we’ve grappled with the technology and challenges involved. Our conversations have been profound, funny, thought-provoking and inspirational. I am really looking forward to our next one, in honour of Lammas/Lughnasadh, on August 9th.
Aoibhin’s writing is rich and lyrical, she writes from the heart, and has a unique perspective on life.
One sunny day in March Aoibhin sent me a video of her walking beside the river on her farm. Her two-year-old son was in a carrier on her back, her face full of light, as she shared her ideas for a new Substack for mothers who write: Motherstack. By the end of March she had launched Motherstack, a guide to the Mother-Writers and Tender Spaces on Substack.
Aoibhin is someone who gets things done!
As a working mother of three children, she juggles her time between family, farm, work and horses, and in these sun-filled days of summer there is little time available for writing, which makes her words even more precious.
I remember how full my days were when I was in the noon of Mothering, it is a wonderful time in many women’s lives, a time to be honoured and cherished, a time rich in experience and wrapped in the music of love.
I am so grateful to have met Aoibhin through SoulCircle, and I am happy to introduce you, my readers, to her.
This essay is inspired by The Summer of Substack Essay Festival, from the amazing
. The theme for week two is generosity, and we are invited to share stories about writers who have inspired us.I have chosen to write about writers on Substack, and would like to just mention two others, who are both members of SoulCircle.
Kole Flatau is a really generous member of our community and I love seeing her bright face on our live writing circles. She is so enthusiastically present. She writes thoughtful and encouraging comments on many writer’s posts. Comments are like gold dust to writers, and a comment from Kole always shows that she has read and digested the piece. Her writing is stunning, quirky, honest and raw. Kole has a unique voice, and I would like to invite you to read her work. Try this one, Manna from Heaven
Yesterday I welcomed a new follower, Maria Basile, to Nurturing the Light. Every time I open an email telling me someone has subscribed or followed my writing my heart does a little dance of welcome, gratitude and delight. I also like to visit their Substack, to get to know who has joined my community.
joined Substack very recently, and her first essay, which you can find here, contains tenderness, poetry, humour and wisdom. I look forward to seeing more of her work! Welcome to Substack, Maria!I would love to know who you have connected with here on Substack. Whose writing inspires you? Who would you love to share with your readers? Let’s share one another’s work generously.
With love,
Josie
You can find Maiden, Mother Crone podcast on Spotify here
What a rich act of generosity here, Josie. I felt the warmth and power of these feminine connections. ♥️