20/08/2026
Today, birdsong filled the air during a session held for me.
And for a moment, I was reminded of my dad.
My father used to feed the birds.
It was such a simple thing. Something I probably didn't give much thought to at the time. But today, as I listened to the birds, I found myself seeing it differently.
My dad didn't get to live all of the life he dreamed of.
And yet, perhaps in his own way, he was nourishing freedom.
He would put food out for these wild little beings without asking anything of them. They would arrive, receive what they needed, and then fly away.
He wasn't trying to keep them.
He was feeding something that was free.
And something about that landed deeply in me today.
Because I realised that perhaps my dad and I have been doing the same work, just in very different ways.
I nourish freedom through movement, voice, journey and the spaces I create for people to encounter more of themselves.
My dad nourished freedom by feeding the birds.
Different expressions.
Same thread.
And perhaps this is true for all of us.
We don't have to do our life's work in the same way as those who came before us. Sometimes the deeper thread travels quietly through generations, finding a different expression through each life.
One person tends a garden.
Another raises their children differently.
Someone makes art.
Someone travels.
Someone teaches.
Someone feeds the birds.
Someone sits beside another human being while they find the courage to hear their own voice.
We each have our own way of tending what matters to us.
Perhaps our work isn't always about finding freedom for ourselves.
Sometimes it is about nourishing freedom wherever we find it.
Feeding what longs to become more alive.
Making space for what is true.
And trusting it to find its own wings.
X My Glorious father and the many lessons he continues to teach me xx
