One Month A Swim is a series looking back on the month that was through my sea swimming, but also through the books, music and films I’m enjoying. If you’re new here, welcome! And if you’re not so new, thank you for sticking around!
November seems to make up for the darkness with epic skies and glorious sunrises. At this time of year, the sun rises in a slow pink glow behind the rocks of the cove, and it is only by swimming out to sea that I get to witness it. Sometimes the stars align – high tide, calm sea, still air – and I dare to dive.
A brave space: this is what I want my Substack to be. Because we need to be brave with our words, to tell our stories, to speak the unspoken. And this will never feel truly safe. But safety is a privilege none of us can afford waiting for, or the world will never change. So I want this to be a space where I try. A brave space. Writing that makes my heart race and my cheeks red.
There is no time for despair, no place for self-pity, no need for silence, no room for fear. We speak, we write, we do language. That is how civilizations heal. I know the world is bruised and bleeding, and though it is important not to ignore its pain, it is also critical to refuse to succumb to its malevolence. Like failure, chaos contains information that can lead to knowledge—even wisdom. Like art.
Toni Morrison
The sea stretched steel grey beneath a cold March sky when my friend Joanne asked about jumping or diving in from the steps – something I love doing and she won't do by herself. My nodding yes was the permission slip she needed. Later, sitting in a nearby café surrounded by other sea friends, she told them how I had been “her brave”.
I know how to create my own brave space around diving. I climb up to the third or fourth step, stand poised for a few seconds, then hurl myself into the depths. Step up, breath in, dive. I go to my edges, then I leap. Only to re-emerge moments later with a triumphant smile on my face. And somehow in the process, inspire others to do the same. Yet, to write dangerously, I still need someone to give me permission, to hold my hand when I fret and flail, to be my safety net in case I fall; someone to tell me it’s ok to write this or say that.
But this is a brave space. So I will show up to the page (or laptop) and write to my edges, knowing that the moment of resistance just before the leap is always the hardest. Courage begets courage. Safety is not guaranteed but let's try anyway. Words as shelter in the storm of our times.
This morning, I dived three times off the steps. Alone. I gave myself permission and the sea met me halfway, lifting me as I approached the bottom step. This is where I’m meant to be, what I’m meant to do. Dare to dive.
I recently switched on paid subscriptions on Another World Is Possible. Rest assured, I don’t intend to paywall any posts – not yet anyway. Only my voice and my words and some photos. So if you find solace, guidance, inspiration in my writing, can I invite you to consider a paid subscription? If you can afford to do so, of course. An annual subscription works out at less than €1 per week and it helps me support my family and invest in myself. It helps me create a brave space to hone my craft and keep trying. Either way, it means the world to me to have you here!
In November I loved…
- ’s Essay Camp
I stumbled into Essay Camp quite by accident just before it started on 1st November. By the end of the first 5 days (free to all subscribers to A Writer’s Notebook), I became a paid subscriber. Between Summer’s expertise and stunning writing, both of which she shares with such generosity, and the gentle accountability threads, Essay Camp has turbocharged my writing. Can't wait to start sharing some of the words and ideas that have come through mostly in the middle of the night!
Entangled Life: How fungi make our worlds, change our minds, and shape our futures, by Merlin Sheldrake (2021)
I first encountered Merlin Sheldrake in Underland, by Robert Macfarlane. And now this: a dazzling, exuberant, tentacular journey, in his own words, into the multiverse beneath our feet, that has forever altered how I see the living world and myself. This book “changes our experience of our own bodies and the places we inhabit. "We" are ecosystems that span boundaries and transgress categories. Our selves emerge from a complex tangle of relationships only now becoming known.”
Hannah Gadsby’s Nanette
If, like me, the global success of Nanette passed you by when the show dropped on Netflix in 2020, you are in for a rare treat. This stand-up comedy show, filmed at the Sydney Opera House, is a masterclass in comedy, storytelling, truth-telling and, rather unexpectedly, art history. Yes, you read that right! Nanette packs quite a few punches, as well as many laughs and tears. Much like Hannah Gadsby themself, the show resists labels and definitions. An absolute MUST WATCH!
This poem by Geneen Marie Haugen
Forget the old directions. There is a wilder place where wanderers, visionaries, tricksters, mad poets and free-voiced people are dreaming together, and sorrowing and howling forth a new world. It is not far. There is a faint trail. Sniff the air. Listen for grief cries and crazy laughter. Listen for the haunt of calling songs. Watch for feathered offerings and seeds of wild prayers. Everything depends on this: Find the others. The moss, cactus, coyote and stone will show their true faces when you begin to sing.
This is really beautiful, I love the idea of this series. The call to be brave really resonated with me - wild swimming has been such a reminder of my own strength and gentle fierceness, as has climbing, learning to believe in my ability to finish and route and not be scared of falling. And writing to your edges is a wonderful image, I'm going to hold that in mind this week. Thank you