Alchemical wonderings is a space to explore how to craft our lives creatively, not only the stories we want to write, but the stories we want to live. In a challenging world, let’s make a space to find ways to live small lives well. For everyday alchemy we need to rest and restore, and be inspired by the natural world and our herbal allies so that we can serve the world without overwhelm.
Join me in this invitational space for questions and transformation.
Because our world needs a different story.
What are you doing here, Jan?
Iona, June 1984. A guide leads a group around spiritual landmarks of the island. We have gathered for a week of retreat to ponder our stories as women in the world as it was at the early eighties. We eat and cook together, sing together, talk about healing and journeys, obstacles and beliefs… The walk ends at the highest point on Iona, Dun I, only 333 feet above sea level and the guide reads a story of Elijah from the first Book of Kings.
The prophet has run for his life after challenging the corrupt powers of his day. Frightened and alone, he seeks God and has a series of encounters of power—a huge wind, an earthquake, a fire. But the God he seeks is not to be found in any of them. Then comes a low whisper, a still small voice that Elijah recognises and goes to meet, his face covered by his cloak. And then the question, ‘What are you doing here, Elijah?’
There are thresholds all through our lives, turning points, small and large, when we face that question, ‘What are you doing here?’
I asked this question at the end of thirteen years of ministry, after three workplace assaults and feeling physically and mentally broken.
I asked it one stormy February night when I fled into the rain, realising that 31 years was beyond long enough to go on trying to save a volatile and draining marriage.
I regularly ask it at times like new year or as the seasons turn and I review my journey.
And I’m asking it at the moment on the cusp of elderhood. A question about my next phase on this short transit on earth.
Substack feels like the place where I can weave together the threads of my work, where I can offer a nurturing space that tends to our stories — through words, and through the wisdom of the natural world, sharing the alchemy that is around us every day.
What I’m doing here, from a hamlet in a forest in France as a writer and herbalist, is crafting a life my life creatively. Small acts of hope and transformation each day. I’d love to walk with you on your creative journey.
I believe that story can change the world. And I believe that a relationship to the earth we dwell on and to the plants that offer us nourishment and wellness is for everyone.
The threads of my vocation have always has been about story, creativity, connection and healing. The pattern changes, but in this space the answer to the question, ‘What are you doing here, Jan?’ is
to hold space that supports creative people to craft the stories they want to live
to accompany those on healing journeys with herbs
to linger, listen and connect in community
to explore what living a small life well in a challenging world might mean
What story do you want to live?
How do you want to feel?
And how can my work here support your creative and healing journey?
For paid subscribers there’s an archive of material on crafting our creative lives, including a 12-chapter journalling course on deep, a 52 part podcast series on hope in dark times and and exploration of writing from the place we live. We also gather (online) monthly to write Calmly by Candlelight together and there are quarterly workshop to write to inspiring prompts and share our journeys.
Whether you simply want to spend time reading and tending the alchemical story of your creative life or are able to support this adventure with a paid subscription, you are so welcome here.
And here’s a free resource of 20 days of prompts for a different story — using poetry techniques in all genres of writing:
Thank you, Roselle -- I've always juggled - it becomes engrained after a while but cycles of reivew definitely help.
The assualts didn't really have motives beyond 2 guys looking for money for drugs and another who had absconded from a mental health facility so all of them hurt and let down people who hadn't been served by the way society molds and damages women and men.
Sometimes our bodies defnitely do the slowing down for us -- perhaps telling us to switch to a different kind of strenght instead of our previous notions of full strength.
Jan xx
Hi Jan, saw your intro on WITD, I just read your nettle piece and this one and just LOVED it. At a time when I'm feeling more myself than ever and yet more alone, leaving bits of my past life behind, but so content with the solace of nature and my garden, it means a lot to resonate with someone. I had planned to harvest some nettle today! Along with verbena and blackberries. Looking forward to connecting over herbs and words.