The one with the bookshop window, the messy brain and the map I made for myself

It was cold, the end of the festive season in our historic city. The lights were still up and it was starting to get dark. Having taken an unusual route, home through town on our daily dog walk, the boys were taken by an invisible scent message. I found myself standing outside Waterstones, looking at the window display, in no hurry for the dog messages to be complete.

‍While I stood there I let myself think a thought I had never let in before.

I want to see my book in that window someday.

‍ The thought surprised me. I would have thought this was too grand an ambition and yet my body seemed to agree with my new dream.

‍ Let me tell you about My Messy Little Brain.

‍During lockdown I started a blog. That was its name, My Messy Little Brain.  My idea was to write about everything whirling around in my head. The things I had learned from hundreds of hours of podcasts, hundreds of books, long deep conversations with friends on sofas, squat racks and on dog walks. I am going to get some hate for this but lockdown meant freedom to me. A space where I didn’t have to ‘be’ anything, there was a peace I found in not being caught crowds, speed and noise. Writing down the thoughts that came to me while I walked in the sun or workout out in my little flat was something that came easily. No thinking round corners, it just flowed.

‍While I was writing it, my life changed direction. I went from a corporate job that had me teetering on the edge of complete burnout to working for myself — still in a corporate world, but at least on my own terms. The blog was consigned to the list of ‘things I tried for a bit’. I chose not to make time for it, even if I never said those words out loud.

‍The truth is I wasn't ready.

‍Then the world tilted again. And I needed to make sense of my world, to get the thoughts I had piled up in my brain out.

‍The day I sat down to start writing properly, I just wanted to organise what I knew. I had journalled on and off for years but those were just me getting thoughts out with no purpose, like letting the air out of a balloon with no desire to capture that air for future use. This felt different. Like no matter where my attention went, books, podcasts, songs, TV shows, I was hearing the same things over and over again in different forms and I wanted to understand what the common threads actually were or whether I was just going a bit bonkers.

‍Because I need things to be simple, I started by defining the subjects I thought all self-help, philosophy and science communication were circling. The things underneath all of it. The common threads.

‍I found five.

Love.
Duality.
Movement.
Grace.
Balance.

‍If you have been here a while, those words might feel familiar. They should. Every newsletter I have sent you, every class I have taught, every social post and coaching session and yoga savasana — it has always been one of those five things, usually a combination in some form or another. I just hadn't told you they had names yet.

‍It wasn't meant to be a book.

‍No one was ever meant to read it.

‍It was my map. My journey to — and if this makes you feel a little bit wellness sick too, I see you — understanding who I am. Finding my way back to me.

‍I thought I was peeling off layers of yuk I had accumulated over time.

‍It turns out, those bits of yuk might have made me brave enough to send you this email. Brave enough to teach people how to go upside down even when they feel terrified. Brave enough to go upside down myself! Brave enough to book a hotel, water sports and order merch for a nerve-settling trip to Greece with a small group of women and no certainty anyone would come.

Along the way, while writing this book — the one that was only ever for me — I have discovered a lot.

‍A lot about what I have put up with and the reasons I did.

‍A lot about the person who feels like me versus the person who sometimes shows up instead.

‍A lot about the person who loves without question. Not to be walked all over. But because I genuinely want everyone to win.

‍And I have decided — standing outside that Waterstones six months ago, and again every time I have frustrated myself with editing, heard nothing from agents or spend another hour writing another letter of submission — that this story does deserve a place in that window.

‍ Is it a big goal? Yes.

‍ Is it going to happen? I will try my best.

‍Is it scary? You bet your left butt cheek it is, there are stories in this book that will tell you more about me (and you) than most people who see me every day know. I think I held my breath for an entire month while one of my closest friends read it.

‍But here we do things scared. We laugh when at first it doesn't work. And then we cheer when it does.

I haven't failed a single client yet.

‍I am not failing myself by leaving this book in my laptop.

‍It is called The Way Home.

‍It is about Love, Duality, Movement, Grace and Balance — and what happens when you learn how following those five threads leads you to living a life that is really yours.

‍You can find out more here.

‍One Thing For You

Think of the thing you have been writing in your head for years without putting it down.

‍Not a book necessarily. It might be a conversation you haven't had. A decision you haven't made. A version of yourself you keep almost stepping into and then stepping back from.

‍Ask yourself — not unkindly, just honestly:

‍What would it mean if this actually happened?

‍Not what could go wrong. What it would mean if it worked.

‍Write one line. Just one. You don't have to show it to anyone.

‍Don’t be surprised if the answer is that you have to give up something, someone or part of your routine that feels immovable.

That's the map. That's where it starts.

‍From the Trail

‍I have been reading the last chapters of The Way Home this week. The ones I wrote over a year ago. The ones that gave me the insight I needed to create Inner Needs, Assertive You and the reason why the Pattern Spotter was a tool I had to give you, even though I had no idea how to create it.

‍I keep finding those things I wrote more true now than they were when I wrote them, some things I forgot I had included, things I keep in a separate file called ‘stuff I might need for the book’ (it’s not flashy, but I know where to find it).

‍One of the things I keep coming back to is that not everything needs to be thought through quietly. In fact, I have found when I have done this, I still need somewhere to put my thoughts, physically.

‍Sometimes we need somewhere safe to make some noise.

‍Which is how I ended up sourcing tyres, and ended up with some magnificently enormous steel tubes, rubber mallets, punch bags and a delivery of hand drums.

‍Rage Release is coming to The Land.

‍We’ll start with movement and a little journalling, then spend half an hour hitting tyres, striking steel, punching bags, drumming and generally giving all that I am absolutely bloody done energy somewhere to go.

‍Then, importantly, we come back.

‍Group drumming. More reflection. Breathwork. Nervous-system tools. Hot drinks and healthy-ish cake.

‍It isn’t about arriving furious. It’s not about raging as a performance. It’s about knowing there is something inside you that needs to move.

‍Once it has, you might feel alive, buzzing, ready to run a marathon and swim the Channel. You might also be left with grief, sadness or a tiredness you didn’t expect.

‍This experience is designed to help you through whatever is left once the anger has moved.

‍The first workshop will be 90 minutes at The Land in Haxby, £35 per person, with a small number of places.

‍I’m opening the waiting list this week.

‍[Join the Rage Release waiting list.]

‍Until next time, keep walking the trail.

‍Becky x

‍P.S. Harley and Flynn do not know the book exists or that they are in it. They will be excited on that day I walk into Waterstones with me to buy a copy of MY book. They love a shopping expedition.

‍P.P.S. The Way Home has a page on the website now. If you have been here since the beginning — since Greece and eggs and Nora and Bashira and the purple things — you already know what it's about. You've been living in it. Find it here.

‍ P.P.P.S. Permission to Rest is open. Six cards. One Nora. A very small, very important thing to practise. £17. ‍