Why “Just Be Spiritual” Doesn’t Cut It After a Religious Upbringing

If you read last week’s post, you’ll know I’ve been thinking about the vacuum that opens up when you leave a high-control religion. The hollowness that certain weekends – Easter, Christmas, the hinge points of the year – can make suddenly visible.

This week I want to talk about what a lot of women do next. And why it often doesn’t work.

The obvious answer that isn’t really an answer

When you leave organised religion, the most common advice you’ll encounter – spoken or unspoken – is some version of: just be spiritual. Take what resonates. Leave what doesn’t. Build your own thing.

On the surface, that sounds reasonable. Liberating, even. After years of being told exactly what to believe and what happened if you didn’t, following what feels right sounds like freedom.

The problem is that “follow what feels right” is not actually a framework. It’s an absence of one. For women who have spent years inside a highly structured belief system, that absence doesn’t feel like freedom. It feels like standing in a very large room with no furniture and no map.

The patchwork quilt problem

What tends to happen – and I say this from personal experience as much as from observation – is a kind of spiritual magpie phase. A crystal here. A tarot deck there. Some yoga philosophy, some sage smudging, a dash of Norse mythology, a moon ritual from a wellness influencer. Each piece picked up because it glittered, because it felt like something, because it seemed to offer an answer.

None of those things are wrong in themselves. But assembled without intention or grounding, without any real understanding of where they come from or what they mean within their own traditions, they become a patchwork quilt without a plan. It doesn’t keep you warm. It just gets heavier.

A magpie with a thought bubble saying "Mmmm... Must have shiny things..." Still being spiritual but not religious after leaving a church can lead to magpie like tendencies...

There’s also something worth naming honestly: much of what gets marketed as “spirituality” in the wellness space involves taking practices from living traditions – Indigenous, Hindu, African, East Asian – stripping them of their -context, and selling them to Western women as self-care. That isn’t spiritual freedom. Cultural appropriation dressed up in linen and good lighting is still cultural appropriation. Women who go down this road tend to feel, eventually, just as hollow as before – and now there’s a vague guilt attached to it too.

What actually helped me

When I stopped reaching outward and started looking closer to home, something shifted.

Not immediately. Not dramatically either. But what grounded me, what gave me something solid to stand on, was a combination of things that had nothing exotic about them at all.

Connecting with my ancestors. Not in a performative or mystical sense, but in the straightforward sense of asking: who were the people I come from? What did they value? How did they endure? What did they carry, and what did they pass on to me whether I wanted it or not?

Getting honest about my ethics and values. Not the ones I’d inherited, not the ones I’d been told I should have, but the ones actually operating in me – the things I couldn’t compromise on, the lines I wouldn’t cross, the things that made me feel most like myself.

Working from that grounded state outward was the final piece. Rather than assembling a spiritual life from whatever was available, I started from what I knew to be true about myself and built from there.

That process led me to Brigid. Not because someone told me she was what I needed. When I looked honestly at who I was and where I came from, she was already there – as saint, as goddess, as a figure woven into Irish culture across more than a thousand years. She didn’t require me to borrow from anyone else’s tradition. She was already mine to explore.

Structure isn’t the enemy

Here’s what took me longest to accept: the problem was never structure itself. The problem was being inside a structure someone else had built, one I had no hand in shaping and that never quite fit.

Building your own spiritual life doesn’t mean having no structure. It means building one that is genuinely yours: rooted in your own history, your own values, your own honest questions. That takes longer than picking up a crystal. It requires sitting with uncomfortable things. But it produces something that actually holds.

This is the work I do with the women I work with. It’s what the coming weeks of posts are going to be about.

Where this is going

Next week I want to introduce you properly to Brigid, not as a requirement, not as a new belief system to step into, but as a figure worth knowing. She has been part of Irish women’s lives for a very long time and might have something to offer you, depending on where you are and what you’re looking for.

If you don’t want to miss it, make sure you’re on the list.

And if last week’s post is still sitting with you – or if the patchwork quilt image landed somewhere uncomfortable – I’d genuinely love to hear about it. You can reply to any of my emails or drop a comment below.

Spiritual Burnout: What to Do When You’ve Given Too Much to Everyone Else


I’m off work right now. (And yes, I’ve written about spiritual burnout before, but bear with me, ok? I’m trying to focus on spiritual burnout recovery this time…)

Not on holiday. Not at a conference. Off work because I pushed too hard for too long and my body eventually made the decision my brain kept refusing to make. As an engineer, I’m trained to solve problems, keep things moving, be the person who figures it out. Turns out that’s a fantastic skill set right up until the point it isn’t.

And sitting here, with more quiet than I’m used to, I’ve been doing what I always do when something cracks open, I’ve been noticing the pattern. Where else does this show up? Where else am I the one holding the flame for everyone else while quietly letting my own go dark?

Here’s the thing. Right now, in my spiritual life, I don’t think I’m at crisis point. But I recognise the early signs. Spiritual burnout doesn’t always arrive as a dramatic collapse, sometimes it’s a slow, quiet drain that you only notice when you’re already running on empty. I know what this road looks like. And I’d rather write about it now, from the relatively sane vantage point of almost, than from the wreckage of having ignored it too long.

So this one is for anyone who recognises themselves in what I’m about to describe.

A tired woman rests her hands against her face in a moment of stillness — capturing the emotional weight that makes spiritual burnout recovery necessary.
A woman looking distressed, is she in spiritual burnout?

Signs of spiritual burnout

Over-giving in a spiritual community rarely announces itself. It creeps in through small, generous decisions that compound over time. Here are some signs worth sitting with honestly:

Your own altar has been neglected for weeks, but you’ve shown up for everyone else’s questions and crises.

You’ve started dreading notifications from people in your community. After conversations where you gave a lot, you feel vaguely resentful… and then guilty about the resentment.

Your own doubts and questions feel like something you can’t share with anyone, because you’re supposed to be the one who has it together.

You’ve stopped asking Brigid for anything. Prayer has become entirely outward-facing.

I know these signs because I know their cousins from work. The dread of the inbox. The resentment after a meeting where you gave everything and nobody asked how you were. The way your own needs quietly stop feeling legitimate because everyone else’s are so clearly urgent.

And then there’s the really subtle one, the one that makes this so hard to shift: your identity has quietly fused with being useful to others. Pulling back doesn’t feel like protecting yourself. It feels like losing yourself.

In work, for me, it looked like staying late to fix things that weren’t mine to fix. Answering messages at 10pm. Saying yes to one more thing because I was the one who knew how to handle it. Sound familiar in a different context?

That’s why the practical advice often doesn’t stick. People know what to do. Doing it feels like a threat to who they are. But it’s essential if you’re going to recover from this spiritual burnout! (Talking to myself? Me? Never!(

So what can we actually do about spiritual burnout?

I have a list of practical steps for spiritual burnout recovery. Because of course I have.

Stop before you fix.

Before changing anything, spend a week just noticing where your spiritual energy goes. Not to judge it, not to overhaul it, just to see it clearly. Most people are genuinely shocked when they look. I was, when I finally sat down and looked at where my working hours were actually going. You can’t manage what you haven’t named yet.

Reclaim something that’s entirely yours.

One practice, however small, that you don’t share, don’t post, don’t discuss and don’t offer to anyone else. Not because it’s a secret, but because it’s sovereign. A single candle lit for yourself. Five minutes with Brigid that belong only to you. This sounds simple. For people whose entire practice has become communal, it’s one of the hardest things I’ll suggest.

One of the things I’ve done while off work is to stop performing recovery. No updates. No checking in with people. Just actually resting, which turns out to be completely different from talking about resting. Your spiritual practice deserves the same protection.

Learn the difference between witnessing and carrying.

You can be fully present for someone without taking their struggle into your own body. This is actually a skill, and it doesn’t come naturally — particularly for empathic people, which most of us in spiritual community are. Practically: after a conversation that cost you something, do a short physical reset. A walk, cold water on your face, stepping outside for a few minutes. It signals to your nervous system that what you held for them stays with them. It doesn’t follow you home.

I’ve had to learn this at work too — the difference between caring about a problem and owning a problem that isn’t mine. Spiritual over-giving works exactly the same way.

Let people sit with their own questions.

Over-givers tend to rush — to answer, to soothe, to solve. Next time someone brings you a spiritual question, try responding with “what does your gut tell you?” It honours their own wisdom. And it protects yours.

Renegotiate quietly, not dramatically.

You don’t need to make an announcement. Definitely, don’t owe anyone a declaration. You can simply respond a little slower. Be slightly less available. Say “I don’t have the energy for that today” without explanation or apology. People who genuinely care about you will adjust without drama. People who push back or don’t even notice? That’s information worth having.

I didn’t send a big email to work saying I was stepping back. My body made that decision for me in the end. I’d rather you make it for yourself, consciously, before it comes to that.

Ask Brigid for something.

Spiritual burnout recovery doesn’t have to be dramatic. Sometimes it starts with the smallest possible thing — bringing your own need to the flame instead of everyone else’s.

When did you last do that?

I know, it’s obvious…

Brigid is associated with generosity, with service, with the perpetual fire that never goes out. It’s easy, especially for those of us with a Catholic background, to absorb that as meaning we should be the same. Always available. Always giving. Never asking.

But Brigid isn’t just a resource you dispense to others. She’s in relationship with you. The forge isn’t only where you make things for other people. It’s where you go to be renewed yourself.

I’m sitting with that right now, in this quieter stretch of time I didn’t exactly choose but probably needed. Bringing my own tiredness to her rather than showing up with a list of things I want to do for everyone else. It feels strange. It also feels like exactly the right thing. And I know, reaching out to Brigid (or your deity of choice) to help with recovery from burnout of a spiritual nature seems a bit, well, strange. I get it. But just trust me on this.

If your prayer life has become entirely outward-facing, this is your invitation to change that. Bring something to her. Not something polished or spiritual-sounding. Something real. The exhaustion, the resentment, the quiet grief of having lost the thread of your own practice while tending everyone else’s.

She can work with that.

The smith has to tend their own fire first.

Now, I googled a lot before I wrote this, because I don’t want to send you down a bad path.

The Inner Work of Women’s Spiritual Leadership

Yes, we are continuing on this series of women’s spiritual leadership. This week, looking at the inner work involved. Look, some of the things I was seeing online and elsewhere around Imbolc have inspired this. And even if you don’t feel called to leadership,. let these articles inform your choice of leader! (previous posts are here, here, and here)

Navigating Power, Vulnerability, and Growth

There’s a part of leadership that nobody prepares you for: the way the role rearranges your inner world. On the outside, the tasks are clear enough. Hholding ritual, making decisions, guiding conversations, offering perspective. But inside, women’s spiritual leadership opens complicated doors.

Old patterns wake up. Tender places ask for attention. You discover that holding space for others requires you to hold deeper space for yourself: the kind that can feel both tender and fierce at the same time. Remember, Brigid is a firm proponent of the slap to the back of the head technique when we’re not listening! And she is particularly adept at highlighting when I’m not attending to the inner work. Spiritual leadership requires it. Trust me.

I used to think leadership was something I would “grow into,” like a coat that would eventually fit. Now I think of it more like a landscape I walk through daily, one that changes with the weather of my life and the seasons of my soul. Some days are clear and bright; everything feels simple. Other days are fogged with self‑doubt or pricked by old memories. Nothing is wrong when that happens. It’s just the terrain reminding me that inner work is not a separate practice from leadership. It is the heart of it.

A green background allows various shades of green to reflect a hill, a path, some trees. A black female figure walks the land. This is the Inner Work of Women’s Spiritual Leadership

The Tension Between Humility and Self‑Erasure

Many women were raised to make ourselves small so that others could be comfortable. Then we step into leadership and try to reconcile confidence with care, visibility with gentleness, authority with humility. It can be easy to mistake self‑erasure for virtue. But humility is not the silence of your power; it is the clarity with which you use it. It’s standing in your centre without inflation or apology, refusing to dominate the room, but also refusing to abandon it. When we address the inner work of women’s spiritual leadership, we have to acknowledge this tension.

And ok – sometimes you need to dominate the room. And other times you need to abandon said room. But horses for courses, ok?

When that old impulse to shrink arrives, and for many of us, it does, I take it as a signal to slow down and check in:

Am I avoiding clarity because I fear I will be judged?

Am I softening my language so I won’t be called “too much”?

Leadership asks for honesty here. Sometimes the most ethical, generous thing you can do is to speak plainly and trust the strength of the space you’re holding.

For some of us, speaking plainly comes more easily than others, but it’s a skill worth cultivating.

Meeting the Old Stories with New Courage

Women’s spiritual leadership often collides with old narratives:

🔥the teacher who didn’t believe you,

🔥a priest who shamed your questions,

🔥the community that rewarded your helpfulness but punished your voice.

Those memories don’t always arrive as thoughts. Sometimes they show up as a squeezing in the chest, a need to over‑explain, a jitter under the skin that makes you rush when you could move slowly. The inner work of women’s spiritual leadership can escalate these feelings. It rarely reduces them.

When that happens, I don’t treat it as failure. I treat it as information. The body remembers what the mind tries to tidy away. I ask:

What age is this reaction?

Whose voice am I hearing?

What do I need now to meet this moment as the woman I am, not the girl I was?

Sometimes the answer is a breath and a glass of water. It can be cancelling a commitment and going to the land. Sometimes it is calling a trusted peer who will remind me of what is true. And occasionally, it’s arriving on a friend’s doorstep in floods of tears, begging for help.

Intuition and Discernment

Spiritual leadership invites intuition to sit at the table. But intuition is not infallible, and discernment is not the enemy of mystery. I often imagine these two as companions walking with me: intuition bringing the spark and the knowing, discernment asking the kind of questions that keep us honest. What else could be true? What do I know for sure? Is this mine or does it belong to the other person? Where is my edge here?

Women are often praised for intuition and not taught the discipline of discernment. The truth is we need both. Intuition opens doors we didn’t know existed. Discernment checks that we have the keys we need, the consent we require, and the capacity to walk through without doing harm.

Or, in the words of an ex-colleague of mine: just because it smells like shit, doesn’t mean it will promote growth.

Shadow Work as an Ethical Practice

Shadow is not a moral failing; it’s the part of us that prefers to be unseen. In leadership, shadow can look like subtle superiority (“I know best”), quiet resentment (“I give more than I receive”), or slippery avoidance (“If I’m kind enough, I won’t have to set the boundary”). The work isn’t to banish these impulses; it’s to notice them early and choose differently.

I think of shadow work as a daily hygiene: a quick scan for contractions in the body, a look for places where I’m seeking approval rather than truth, a willingness to say, “I was wrong,” while the moment is still fresh enough to repair. This is not self‑punishment. It’s devotion to clean leadership, the kind that leaves people more sovereign, not more dependent.

Of course, there is deeper shadow work I have done, am doing and will do in the future. That’s normal and human. But it’s also the daily check ins we so often forget. The inner work of women’s spiritual leadership very often forces more shadow work upon us, as we work through the old torments.

The Land, the Body, and the Gods

When the inner weather turns, I go outside if I can. I’m privileged to have a garden that allows this. The land has a way of re‑sizing my concerns and returning me to proportion. I walk until my breath finds me. Put my hand on a tree and listen. Make a drink and watch the steam. (Or I make a drink and appreciate the taste of the grapes in the wine…) Simple practices. Old practices. The body follows the land’s lead. The nervous system remembers what safety feels like when we move slowly and pay attention.

If you are a devotee of gods or saints, bring them into this, not as a task to perform, but as companionship. I don’t ask the divine to erase my humanity. I spent too long remembering that humanity! Instead, I ask for the courage to inhabit it with grace. Leadership doesn’t require us to be perfect. It asks us to be honest, to keep learning, and to return again and again to the practices that make us kind, clear, and steady.

The Inner Work of Women’s Spiritual Leadership: A Quiet Benediction

If you are a woman stepping into spiritual leadership, know this: the parts of you that tremble are not disqualifying. The tremble is evidence that you care. The path you’re walking is not about becoming untouchable; it’s about becoming trustworthy, which is a very different thing. Trustworthiness grows in the soil of felt reality, the days you tell the truth gently, repair quickly, and choose groundedness over performance.

Your inner landscape will keep changing as the seasons change. Let it. Let it teach you. Make you a leader who carries warmth without burning, clarity without cutting, and power without pretending you never doubted. That’s leadership people can breathe around. That’s leadership that heals.

Listening to ourselves

I struggling with listening to my body. And I think this is something we all struggle with: listening to ourselves. Even when we desperately need rest!

Last week started by me being attacked by the shed in our garden. (Pic of similar shed below for entertainment purposes) I came into work and said the shed had jumped out at me and hit the car.

Everyone knew what I meant. Everyone realised I didn’t actually believe the shed had jumped at me. If ever a shed existed that is unlikely to jump anywhere, it’s the stereotypical Irish stone shed.

I'm fairly certain we could learn from this shed about listening to ourselves. It's a stone built Irish shed, with corrugated roof and one slit window, one slightly square window, grass in the foreground. It's doing nothing but what it's built to do!
Very typical construction here

What was going on?

Apparently, either an ear infection, a sinus infection or a wonderful mixture of both. On finally heading to the doctor later, he decided the nuclear option was best and put me on antibiotics. And painkilling cream in case it was my jaw.

Why am I bothering telling you this?

Because I didn’t back into the shed, ahem, I mean, the shed didn’t attack me, completely unprovoked, because I was on top of my game. I was dizzy, tired, sick, and probably, in hindsight, shouldn’t have been driving.

Small details.

The key thing is, I’d been fighting something off for weeks. It wasn’t quite bad enough to take time off work, or, horror of horrors, actually go see the doctor. But it was bad enough to make my life miserable. If I’d been better versed in listening to myself, I might have picked up on just how bad I’d felt sooner.

But I didn’t. Because I have been well schooled in the art of not “listening to ourselves”.

Listening to ourselves in a world which doesn’t want us to

Y’see, if I had listened to myself, I might have realised that this thing wasn’t going away. It had been operating in my system and my system was kinda containing it, but not really defeating it.

And a cold/flu/ear infection/ sinus infection thing that’s lasting for a month? Probably needs something more than Vick’s Vaporub to fix it.

I had work to get through.

I’m working (slowly) on a part time doctorate.

Running Brigid’s Forge and EngineerHer.

Managing home, school and work.

There’s a lot on. And I’m not saying this, because I think I’ve got it worse than anyone else. We’ve all got a lot on.

The modern world is not made for simplicity.

And that’s all before you take into account the shitshow that’s currently going down in numerous places across the world… (but, y’know, hard side-eye towards the US here)

It’s easier for the world at large if we don’t listen to ourselves. It’s easier for our families, our workplaces, everyone, if we just keep on keeping on.

And there’s times we have to do that New baby, audit in work, major project… whatever it is, there are times we actually do have to keep on keeping on. But not always.

And we fall into the trap. We cope, because we see no other way.

Listening to ourselves leads to failure, or dropping the ball on something.

Hard lessons

One of the strongest lessons I learned earlier in my career was when I was off work, sick, for 3 months. I came back and checked in with my boss on all the things that were deemed so important, so vital to the running of the business.

90% of them hadn’t been kept up while I was away. So, I took a radical step. I stopped doing them.

If they weren’t important enough for someone else to pick up, then why was I wasting my time? I immediately freed up almost 20hours a week.

HALF MY WORKING WEEK.

I had been running myself ragged working on reports, presentations, information… that nobody really needed.

I had most definitely not been listening to myself.

Now, mind you, I’m a slow learner. That wasn’t the first, or indeed, the last time I work myself sick. Last week was a minor example of it.

But we have to ask ourselves: when we don’t listen to ourselves, what good are we to our people?

Whether our people are family, friends, colleagues, dependents, whatever – what good are we?

That old thing about no one praising someone at their funeral for spending all that time in the office?

The Act of Radical Listening to Ourselves

I read Louis Hay‘s work on racial self care years ago. It’s a bit dated now, but there is some good stuff in there. First and foremost, she advocates listening to ourselves. Our bodies. Our souls.

And taking the time to rest and allow these messages to come through.

In a world where the powers that be appear to want us chaotic and confused, resting and knowing ourselves (those of us with the privilege to do so, of course) is radical.

It’s an expression of intent.

Or an invitation for care.

Rest.

Absorption and integration.

(And while we’re on the topic – yes, you can grab a limited spot on the upcoming Imbolc retreat to do just this, if you wish)

But in the meantime, think about how you can build in listening to yourself as a continual thing. How do you build in rest when it’s needed? How do you recognise you need rest? (Highly recommend not backing into the shed as a wake up call. Seriously!)

Is it meditation? Time away from everyone? Regular catch ups with close friends? How do you best build in that time?

Drop me a line and let me know!

If you want to change, you have to change!

The topic of change came up during our Brigid’s Forge Collective session last night. And I thought it warranted writing about today. Because so often, we want things to be different, we look for it, beg for it – but forget the basics.

I’ve written before about Brigid and liminality, not to mention transformation.

But change, real, physical change is difficult at the best of times. And last night I came out with the sentence: “If you want to change, you have to change!”

Hugely profound, I know. But it’s an extension of the “Be the change you want to see in the world”

An image of a nebula cloud, blue and orange - the original change?
Change can feel amorphous, but it’s usually not!

Why talk about change?

A quick Google Scholar search brought 6.4 million results on “change management process“. There’s a reason for that!

Now, I’ll let you into a secret. The key to a successful change management process is twofold:

  • Successful stakeholder management
  • Clear preferred outcomes

That’s it. Seriously.

You can see how this works in large organisations, right? There’s a decision made somewhere that X is moving to Y. Now this could be as wide ranging as changing the graphics or the company logo down to altering the core working hours by 30mins for a particular office.

It doesn’t matter which it is, to be honest. The point is – it is change.

And people – as a rule – don’t like it.

So, successful stakeholder management. This doesn’t mean getting everyone involved to agree to the new way of doing things. It means making sure everyone is aware of upcoming new way of doing things. Getting alignment rather than agreement.

Alignment is one of those weird corporate words. It generally means someone has agreed to go along with whatever is happening and publicly support it, even if they think it’s batshit cracked to be even thinking of this right now.

Yeah, I know.

But the whole process depends on key stakeholders holding the party line, at least long enough to pass through the gauntlet of the process. We’re aiming for minimising resistance, not eliminating it. A bit of resistance is good for a change process – it can highlight key elements that need to be considered that might otherwise have been overlooked.

The second bit – being clear on the desired outcomes – is vital to ensuring success. For a start, if you’re not sure what the desired outcome is, how do you know you’ve been successful? And trust me when I say, the simpler the better.

“Higher employee enthusiasm” is all very well and good, but how are you measuring it, what does “higher” mean, higher than what, which employee, what do we mean by enthusiasm… you can see where this is going?

“Moving from a 3.5 to a 4.0 on the employee satisfaction survey by end of Q3 2026” is much better. It’s clear what’s being measure, how it’s being measure and what the time frame is. Of course there are going to be more detailed elements below this. There will be projects, and initiatives and all sorts. But the key element, the root and heart of the change itself, is simple but clear.

What do large organisations have to do with me though?

Well, here’s the thing. Change management is based on people. And chances are, if you’re reading this blog, you’re a person as well.

Internal change needs to be the same as external change.

  • Be clear on the change you want to see
  • Manage your stakeholders

Now, if you’re looking at yourself, what does this mean?

Well, first off, what do you want to change? Or rather what’s the outcome you hope this change will drive?

“I want to get fitter” is an outcome. But it’s not very clear. Some outcomes from this might be:

  • complete a press up
  • run 5k
  • walk to the gate and back
  • complete a circuits class, doing all the exercises, without dying
  • Complete the Camino de Santiago

You can see how all these would come under the heading of “being fitter” for some people, right?

And I’m using fitness rather than anything else cos it tends to be more commonplace. And less personal. People don’t get as upset by talking about doing a 5k as they do about the mention of a daily prayer, for example.

Alright, I can hear you screaming about stakeholders, now as well.

Here we go.

Stakeholders

I know. You don’t really see the need for stakeholder management when making a more personal change. Allow me to challenge you on that.

How about you? Do you not count as a stakeholder? You need to manage yourself, your own expectations, as much as you manage other people.

Are you going to commit to the work required to make this change? Maybe it’s a daily step goal. Or a 3 day a week running routine. Possibly become a regular attendance at class?

And then think about timelines. Support.

It’s been a long time since I did a couch to 5k program, but I definitely remember the need to manage my food differently when I did so. I had to be more prepared and that meant saying no to other things.

Committing to attending one meeting in work meant missing out on something else. Agreeing to found and run an organisation meant saying no to engaging with a different organisation.

All of this is managing stakeholders.

And that’s before we get into other people.

Explaining to your family that you’re not available at 6pm on Thursdays any more so they may have to eat dinner without you. Rearranging childcare to allow time for your new challenge. Explaining to work colleagues that actually, no, you aren’t available to work late on Monday nights any more and you have a hard cutoff at X time.

This is all stakeholder management.

Planning your change

Any change requires planning. It doesn’t matter if it’s as simple as a reminder on your phone or major changes to family routines. All change required planning.

A picture of the Wellness From Within Journal from Little Penny Thoughts which is my new foray into journalling, Book is sage green with an elastic strap and a pen holder!!
Wellness From Within Journal from Little Penny Thoughts which is my new foray into journaling. A new change for me.

I got the above journal for free at a recent conference I was at and I sat down one Saturday night and talked it through with my husband, how I would use it, when I would use it, where I would use it…

Current goals are a Mon-Fri journaling habit, first thing in the morning. Well, not quite first thing, but close enough. It’s hit and miss at the minute, but we’re getting there.

But I used getting this journal as the catalyst for change. I decided when, where, how I was journaling. What is taken care of by the lovely journal, and why is because it’s good for my mental health!

And I don’t have “journaling” written into my diary or anything, but it is part of my morning routine, which is in my diary.

Planning works.

Bringing it back to spiritual change

I’ve deliberately not mentioned spiritual change the whole way through this post. Well, except for that one bit about prayer daily. But now let’s come full circle and return to Brigid.

So many people tell me “I want to deepen my relationship with Brigid”. The problem is that no two people have meant the same thing when they say that. So we probe. And I have a series of questions to help here:

1. Who is Brigid to You?

  • When you say “Brigid,” what does that mean to you? A goddess, a saint, a symbol, a presence?
  • How do you currently experience Brigid in your life?
  • Is your image of Brigid shaped by childhood teachings, personal experiences, or something else?

2. What Does “Relationship” Mean?

  • What does a healthy relationship with Brigid look like for you?
  • If you imagine this relationship as a friendship, partnership, or something else, what qualities would it have?
  • What do you feel Brigid offers you, and what do you offer Brigid?

3. What Does “Deepen” Mean?

  • When you say “deepen,” what would that look like in your daily life?
  • Does deepening mean more trust, more intimacy, more devotion, more freedom, more creativity?
  • What would be different in your life if your relationship with Brigid were deeper?

4. Current Practices

  • How do you currently connect with Brigid—prayer, ritual, nature, creativity, study?
  • Which of these feel nourishing, and which feel like obligations?

5. Desired Feelings and Outcomes

  • What feelings do you want to experience more often—peace, joy, inspiration, closeness?
  • What do you hope will change in your life as a result of deepening this relationship?

6. Barriers and Challenges

  • What gets in the way of feeling close to Brigid? Doubt, guilt, busyness, old beliefs?
  • If those barriers were gone, what would your relationship look like?

Try it out!

Now, ok, deepening your relationship with Brigid might not be what’s on your mind right now. But I bet those questions will help you get clear on some other things as well. Give it a try!!

The one bad apple

A picture of several green apples, with one in the middle obviously rotten and infecting the ones around it. This applies to our spirituality as well!
One bad apple spoils the whole barrel

Very often, we talk about bad apples in organisations. But it’s often in the context of being a “one off” or an unusual event. It seems that people have forgotten about the full phrase and why it is key to root out the bad apples. (Why yes, this is following on from my thoughts last week on people…)

Apparently the phrase goes back to the 16th century, according to Merriam-Webster. (Great article there on the phrase, by the way!) And the full phrase?

One bad apple spoils the whole barrel.

People appear to forget this in the modern usage. The whole point of the phrase is that, given enough time, one piece of rotten fruit will spoil an entire barrel. And given enough time – one rotten person will spoil an entire organisation.

We’ve all seen it. A nice group, focused on a singular goal, working well together. Someone comes in. Starts causing trouble. Not in a positive way, but starts engaging in backbiting, divide-and-conquer tactics to get their own way.

And soon, that’s the way the whole group acts. The original unity of purpose is gone.

I’ve seen it in professional organisations, friend groups, spiritual groups… you name it.

Seriously, though? One Bad Apple?

Yeah, seriously. Y’see, what a person is doing there is moving the Overton Window. They’re moving the band of acceptable behaviour in a group of people.

We’ve seen an example of it in US politics over the last 9 months. Things that were previously thought of as completely anathema, have become normal. OK, I’m not sure that’s down to one, singular bad apple, but the Overton window has certainly moved…

And it works on us, personally as well. Who we spend time with influences our thoughts, our thought patterns, what we consider acceptable and not acceptable in life.

I get it. This feels wrong to be saying, that you shouldn’t hang out with people who you don’t fully agree with on everything. And I don’t think there’s a single person in the world I agree with 100% on everything. But there are lines I draw that make someone ok to spend time with or not.

For example, if I see someone acting in a way I don’t like in a professional setting – being sexist, racist, etc – then that’s not a person I want to spend time with in a social setting. And vice versa. I don’t buy into the idea that business is just that, business. I believe that people show us who they truly where when the repercussions of their behaviour are are minimal.

if someone is a bad apple in a social setting, they are likely to be a bad apple in a professional or spiritual one as well.

What has this got to do with spirituality?

Well, we often speak of community in spiritual circles. And if we’re honest, for many of us, this means virtual community. So it’s not a case of being able to pop round the neighbours for a chat about Samhain rituals. It’s more a case of posting online and seeing who responds.

But sometimes you get so desperate for some face-to-face time with fellow believers that you accept behaviours that are major red flags.

Don’t get me wrong- I’d love to just step outside my door and have a community on my doorstep. But I want it with minimal input from me and to have it ready to go – and life doesn’t work that way. Right now, if I were to take part in that sort of community, I would have to bend some fairly seriously principles of mine…

The bad apple doesn’t always appear as the cartoon villain, y’see.

Cartoon villain?

Yeah – you know, ugly, black cloak, likes to hide in corners?

The bad apple is very often a stalwart member of the community. They’ve created that space for themselves. It can very often be you. Or me.

It can be someone working with the best of intentions, but just not doing the right things. And yes, I agree with this.

What about ourselves as bad apples?

OK, so here’s where we need to consider the bad apple analogy in ourselves.

Because so much of what we do as humans is habit, so entering into good or bad habits can have lasting consequences beyond what we currently see. For example, the first time we skip the gym after a few months of solid work – doesn’t seem to bad. There’s a valid excuse or reason. There’s an injury or car trouble or a big meeting at work.

But then skipping the next time is that bit easier. You’ve already broken your streak after all. it’s not as big a deal.

Pretty so0n, you find yourself back to legging it out of the house in the morning, with nary a thought of the gym in your head.

It works like this for spirituality and morals as well. The first time you break a personal rule, it’s tough. You have to think hard about it. But the second time? So much easier.

So if you meditate every day, skipping one day, doesn’t seem so bad. And to be honest, it probably isn’t.

But the second day? The third day? The tenth day? Those are the days to look out for. Because pretty soon, that time you’d dedicated to spending on your spirituality has disappeared into the ether of work, life and non-spirituality work.

And somehow you find yourself not spending the time you want to spend on your spirituality at all, but you’re doing nothing more with your life either? How do you get back on track?

Well, yeah, I have a few courses that can help with that, but sometimes money isn’t the answer.

Sometimes you have to identify the bad apple

I was at a conference on Friday to do with work – cos why else – and the talk was around self care, twisty careers, mindfulness, little thoughts, all that sort of things. But it struck me – cos I see it all the time with myself – that sometimes we need to identify the bad apples within ourselves.

Now with spirituality, the bad apples show up a bit differently. But it starts with self reflection. It starts with assessing who you are, what you’re doing and what you plan to do. What’s something you want to do, what something you want to stop doing?

What are the habits or practices you’re continuing out of habit, but you know they’re problematic?

Where can you see yourself straying from the path you intend to walk in a negative way?

Some examples would help here, Orlagh

OK fair. Here are some things I had to assess over the last few years:

  • I stopped going to Mass. It was the response of the Church to virtual mass and the concern re collections going down that tipped me over the edge here. I’m still ok to turn up to weddings, funerals, etc – although I know many people aren’t – but my line is weekly Mass.
  • I keep track of the authors I’m reading to make sure I’m reading a diverse range, and not just white men and women. This weekend, because of exhaustion, I got through N. K. Jemison’s Dreamblood duology. Really entertaining and promotes a seriously different way of thinking about the world.
  • I’ve stopped reading and mentioning certain authors who don’t align with my views and who use their platform to support some seriously horrendous thoughts. No, not mentioning them here… but y’know, I bet ye could guess one or two.
  • I’ve stopped shopping in certain places. Because they don’t support my ideals of fair trade and fair wages. Now, this is one area where I can improve further. Shein still features because of their excellent size ranges and they really have outfits I can’t get in my size elsewhere. But I tend to focus the majority of my money on places like Tempted

I know you’re probably thinking, “what in hell has this got to do with spirituality?” Well, Spirituality isn’t just for specific periods of the week. It’s about how we live our lives. And when we live our lives in line with our ideals, our morals and our practices, it makes life flow better.

My shopping habit at Shien is a bad apple, and one I have to keep an eye on. I have set spending limits to manage this and if I see something I love, I search elsewhere to see if I can find it in my size from a better retailer. Unfortunately, the answer to the first part is nearly always no.

(Those who are about to suggest making my own clothes – I love to do this. But it takes time and plus size patterns, neither of which are in good supply)

Bad apples inside ourselves don’t have to be cut out. They should be addressed, evaluated, checked… and when they start spoiling the whole barrel, eradicated. I don’t think my €20 a month habit on Shein is the worst thing in the world. It’s not the best, but not the worst. The clothes I get are either worn to bits or passed on to people I know will wear them. Most of the time.

We’re not perfect. And while the bad apple terminology can seem like we should be perfect, it’s not the case.

But be wary of those little slips. And make sure, when the bad habits creep in, you’re conscious of it.

Brigid, light and people

An image from my instagram account, saying on top
Check out more info here!

I’ve written about light and Brigid before on this blog. On several occasions in fact. And you’re probably wondering what in hell that has to do with my Instagram post this morning.

Bringing a bit of joy and laughter to people’s lives is part of how I lighten up the dark part of the year, shining with the metaphorical Brigid light. (Also why I used so many candles

Does Brigid approve of laughter?

Laughter brings lightness into our lives. We’ve been discussing this in the Collective this week, the experience of joy in spirituality. It’s amazing how many people don’t experience joy in spirituality at all. Or if they do, it’s a very specific kind of joy – like singing in a group.

But we have loads of early Church examples of how spirituality has to come with joy. This includes warmth, akin to the essence of Brigid light, which fills the spirit with happiness.

But first – whenever I talk about joy, I quote Terry Pratchett:

“That’s my daughter,” said the king. “I ought to feel
sad. Why don’t I?”

EMOTIONS GET LEFT BEHIND. IT’S ALL A MATTER OF
GLANDS.

“Ah. That would be it, I suppose.”

― Terry Pratchett, Mort

The words in all caps are from Death, it’s a convention Pratchett uses through the books. And if you’re looking for books to raise the spirits through the winter months, you won’t go too far wrong with the Discworld ones!

But back to the primary question, does Brigid approve of laughter.

Key UPG moment here: this is my opinion, rather than based in lore, but in my experience and in my opinion, yes, Brigid is very approving of laughter. She has the Irish approach to the topic – there’s as much laughing as crying at what might be considered a “normal” funeral in Ireland.

And while she gave us keening, she never stopped us laughing.

Brigid is associated with light in many stories. And some of her stories are genuinely funny – well if you have a twisted sense of humour like I do.

Brigid, light and spiritual joy

Here’s four other Catholic saints calling out for joy in spirituality:

  • “The joy of the Lord is your strength.” – Saint Teresa of Avila
  • “Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, rejoice!” – Saint Paul the Apostle (Philippians 4:4)
  • “The soul of one who serves God always swims in joy, always keeps holiday, and is always in the mood for singing.” – Saint John Vianney
  • St. Augustine of Hippo wrote, “Joy is the net of love by which you can catch souls.”

I particularly enjoy Saint John Vianney there. Always being in the mood for singing tells me he definitely felt joy in his life!

We have in recent centuries become accustomed to religion in particular being dark and dour, rather than light and happy. (All to do with oppression and control to be honest)

Restricting our laughter, our joy, our light, really limits how we can move forward in spirituality. I mean, why would you want to move forward onto a path that is just causing you pain and torment with nothing to lighten things?

Brigid appreciates we’re human and we need the light as much as the darkness. She also understands that there will forever people that will seek to put down and oppress others. We see this all over the world.

But this is where laughter can fight back against that oppression as well.

I read a lot of dystopian fiction

Surprising no one, I’d say. And a lot of the time, I can see a stage in resistance or building to resistance, where things appear so dark, so lonely, so miserable… it’s a wonder anyone can ever consider rebelling.

But then the gleams of lightness and laughter appear. There’s a secret or not-so-secret underground pub or bar. There are songs. There is dancing.

There’s always something.

And so we can use this in our daily lives.

Subvert the expectations. Just because people can impose darkness and oppression, doesn’t mean you can to comply 100% of the time. Brigid brings some light herself, of course. But you can also use her to bring light and bring some on your own as well.

Light the candles. Invite her to join you in watching a favourite film. Or share in a glass of wine, listen to some music, dance…

And the t-shirt, Orlagh? What does that have to do with Brigid and light?

Well that’s simple. People are an entirely different entity than persons. Once you become a person to me – as I said in the Instagram post – things get a lot easier. But people? People? I don’t like people.

Just in general.

The herd mentality is strong in a lot of people, so until people become persons, I distrust them immensely…

I said this in a class, years ago and nearly gave poor Lora a heart attack. Most of the time once I see you face-to-face or talk to you in a class, you move from people to person.

You might say, once I see you in Brigid’s Light, I start looking at you differently!

Taking Up Space: A Spiritual Rebellion Against Patriarchal Power

Let’s name it: the feeling of being small in a patriarchy.

Women feeling small isn’t just a personal struggle against the patriarchy. It’s a systemic strategy. It’s how rigid, patriarchal religions have kept their power for centuries—by convincing women that silence is sacred, that obedience is holy, and that shrinking is spiritual.

But here’s the truth: your soul was never meant to be small.

The Doctrine of Disappearance

Many traditional religious structures have taught women to disappear. To be quiet. Serve. Submit. To stay in the background while men lead, speak, decide, and define. And by “traditional”, I mean patriarchal as well…

And it’s not just about roles—it’s about energy. These systems thrive when feminine energy is suppressed. When intuition is dismissed. And softness is mocked. When power is hoarded.

Listen, feeling small isn’t a flaw—it’s a consequence.

A cartoon of a massive hand with extended index finger pressing on a very small figure. Interpreted in this case as the feeling of being small in a patriarchy
Reduce, re-use, recycle applies to online as well!!

The Spiritual Cost of Shrinking

When women shrink, the world loses balance. And by women feeling small, the patriarchy finds its job much, much easier.

We lose the healers, the visionaries, the truth-speakers. Lose the wisdom that comes from cycles, emotion, and deep knowing. We lose the sacred feminine—and with it, the wholeness of spiritual life.

And let’s be clear: this isn’t just about religion. It’s about any system that tells you your voice is too much, your body is a distraction, your leadership is unnatural.

Taking Up Space Is Sacred Work

Taking up space isn’t arrogance. It’s alignment.

It’s saying: My soul is here for a reason.
Or saying: I will not apologise for existing.
Maybe it’s saying: I trust my voice, my wisdom, my presence.

When you speak up, you disrupt centuries of conditioning.
By leading, you rewrite spiritual history.
When you take up space, you reclaim the divine feminine.

Resistance Looks Like Radiance

You don’t have to burn down the temple. You just have to stop shrinking inside it.

No need to fight every battle. You just have to stop abandoning yourself.

Being loud isn’t obligatory. You just have to be whole.

This is how we dismantle the old systems—not just with protest, but with presence. With truth. With women who refuse to be small anymore.

Your Space Is Sacred

So speak. Lead. Shine.
Take up space in your workplace, your community, your spiritual circles.
Take up space in your own life.

Because every time a woman expands, the world shifts.
Every time a woman stands tall, the old structures tremble.
Every time a woman says, “I am here,” the divine feminine rises.

And that, my darlin, is holy.

Speak Your Truth: The Spiritual Cost of Staying Silent

It’s a lovely idea, isn’t it? That being quiet, diligent, and dependable will naturally lead to recognition and growth. That people will just know what you want. That your energy will speak for itself.

But here’s the truth: silence can be a form of self-abandonment.

You can work hard, stay on top of everything, and still be overlooked. Not because you’re not good enough—but because you haven’t claimed your space. You haven’t spoken your truth.

In the spiritual world, we talk about alignment. But alignment requires clarity. It requires communication. The universe responds to intention, not assumption.

If you don’t speak up, no one will know what lights you up—or what drains you.

No one will know that the weekly report feels like a soul-sucking chore and you’d rather it be shared across the team.

No one will know that you have a master’s in data science and that your soul sparks at the idea of diving into that new project—unless you say it.

Silence doesn’t protect you. It hides you.

On a beige background, there's three black streaks with the words SPEAK YOUR TRUTH written on them.
You don’t necessarily have to be extremely loud, but you can be proud!!

Repetition Is a Spiritual Practice

Sometimes, you have to repeat yourself. Not because people aren’t listening, but because energy takes time to shift. You’re planting seeds. You’re training the soil.

Think of it like teaching a toddler how to tie their shoes. You don’t say it once and expect mastery. You guide. Rinse and repeat. You hold space for the learning.

So if there’s something you want—something that feels aligned with your gifts—keep saying it. Monthly check-ins. Casual conversations. Intentional nudges.

Trust me, you’re not being annoying. You’re being clear. The Universe takes time to shift…

Taking Up Space Is Sacred Work

Taking up space isn’t just about career progression, or expanding a group’s awareness or educating people. It’s about soul expansion.

Consider walking into rooms with your full energy. Trusting that your voice matters. It’s about choosing connection over comfort.

Sometimes, it means chatting with someone new over coffee. Sometimes, it means sharing your expertise with a project lead or a community action leader. It means speaking up in a meeting or a full room—even if your heart is pounding.

If you’ve ever sat in a meeting thinking, “I know more about this than they do,” then it’s time.

Say the thing.

Don’t Make Yourself Small

The world will try to shrink you. Don’t help it.

At first, you might need a plan. One sentence in a meeting. One email to your manager. One moment of courage.

You might feel awkward. Might chicken out. You might say it and feel exposed.

But you’ll survive. And you’ll grow.

And you might just find that people are listening. That your words carry weight. That your presence shifts the room.

So don’t hide. Don’t fade. Don’t wait.

Step forward. Speak your truth.

Take up the space.

I’m tired – or self-care in dire straits!

“Good morning, Orlagh, you look tired, is everything alright?”
It’s a bit disturbing how often my boss greets me with this phrase – or a variation thereof. And honestly, he’s right. I am tired. Mentally, physically, emotionally – I’m exhausted. And that’s ok.


I searched for “Why am I tired all the time?” or “what causes tiredness?” on Google. The sheer number of results is astounding.

A tired woman sitting on the toilet, leaning over a sink. (Why yes, I have used this image before to indicate illness, but she looks tired as well!)
A woman with a looking tired, sitting on a toilet, leaning over a sink

Why are we so tired?

I know why I’m feeling this way. And, if you think about it, so do you. Whether you’re focused on working through your shadows, or keeping up with a myriad of family activities, or your professional life is being tossed from pillar to post, or you have an illness – either chronic or acute… well it’s not wonder you feel this way.

And that’s before we get into all of this!! {gestures wildly at the world in general} Keeping up with the news along is adding to our already heavy “tired” load.

In the modern world we have access to all sorts of information at all times at our disposal. And while most of the time, I see this as a good thing, when I see so many people worrying about tiredness, I start to question things a bit.

Expectations in modern life keep growing. We think we must do far more than our ancestors had, just in basic expectations. Especially as women. The day job, the childcare and rearing, the marriage stuff, the housework… Now, this isn’t to say that women following a more traditional role, such as a housewife or stay-at-home mother aren’t stressed and tired as well. Most certainly not. Even that work load is hefty!

My point is that no matter what we’re doing, we’re living to higher standards than ever before. It’s taking a toll as we find ourselves utterly tired. How many of us are cutting short of sleep to keep up with what are now considered basics?

Who is skimping on leisure time, rest time, because there’s always one more job to do?

Technology

If you think back to the ads that were prevalent as electricity and new technology came into the home, they all emphasised how much time this was going to free up. It didn’t. What happened was, that we started expecting our homes to be cleaner, to have more clothes, food became a nutritional battleground…

Add in how many of us are so generously gifted a smartphone at work – allowing us to keep up to date with our emails and teams messages even during our off hours. Do we ever switch off?

And if it’s not a smartphone you have at work, you almost certainly have one of your own. And then the internet, with all it’s wonderful news, information, notifications…

We’re experiencing information overload.

And the technology that is meant to help us is at least partially causing the damn problems.

So what do we do?

Well, here the thing. What follows could be posted in multiple different blogs all across the internet. The advice isn’t new or inspiring or revolutionary. Maybe except the last one.

Set aside time for technology free life. Turn off the smartphone – or at least the work phone. Turn off the telly. Take some time to get outside if at all possible.

Spend time in nature. And nature can be your back yard. It doesn’t have to be a massive hike or major holiday.

Go barefoot. OK, not advisable everywhere, but if you can at all, it will help.

Maintain good sleep hygiene. Going to bed at the same time every day and waking up at the same time every day. Not having a massive lie on at the weekend. Not staying up late scrolling through YouTube videos.

Get physically as well as mentally tired. Very often, we are mentally exhausted but our bodies are full of energy. This doesn’t lead to good outcomes. And can lead to increased stress.

Actually – look into stress management.

If all else fails – look into meditation.

I lied.

Meditation probably should be the first thing you try, if I’m honest. It has loads of benefits and help.

But the surprise add-on?

You know you’re an adult, right? (Or you should be, reading this blog – I swear far too much to be child friendly.)

And being an adult means you get to decide what your standards are.

Let’s say it again for the people in the back: you get to decide what’s important for you and what isn’t.

That means if having a clean kitchen every night isn’t important – don’t sweat it. Figure out what works for you.

Cooking a meal from scratch doesn’t appeal, but spending on pre-prepared meals or veggies or whatever works really well? Brilliant.

Spending on comfortable pyjamas is really important but t-shirts you can take or leave? Good for you.

This is why getting to know yourself is the first step in any of my coaching programs. And it’s as true in your spiritual life as your professional life as your domestic life.

You are an adult and you get to decide what is important for you in life.

Down to the brand of bread you buy. Or the route you take to work. A quick detour by a particularly nice bit of landscape helps you face the day? Go for it. No one else’s business.

Design the life you want to live.

Even if it’s low income. Even if it’s not “ideal” according to general societal standards. It doesn’t matter.

Your life is yours to live and how you choose to live it is up to you.

We all have choices. Let’s make the most of yours!