Since childhood, I have adored stories. I would pull my duvet up over my shoulders for comfort and listen to my Dad recall tales of Little Red Riding Hood and The Boy Who Cried Wolf. As I listened to him, pictures played out in my mind as I wondered who the first person was to tell these stories, where they came from, and, of course, what was going to happen next.
Stories have always been, and will always be, a way in which we strengthen our circle of human connection. There exists, as I see it, a luminous thread weaving through the tapestry of our shared journey and existence. Some patterns are clearly seen repeating across generations and different cultures; other patterns in stories clearly evolve and, of course, some are broken and unpicked entirely over time. From the whispered tales of folklore from the land we call home, to the fairy tales we once told our children; it's a sacred invitation to remember who we are and where we come from. Often, the stories we love most reside between the seen and the unseen, the known and the unknown. We love stories that open us to the magic of possibility such as Harry Potter. Stories, in my eyes, are a divine alchemy that can transform our lives through narrative and illuminate forgotten parts of us. Through the tender care of words, we can give a voice to our joys, sorrows, dreams, and fears, and invite others to witness them. Perhaps the stories we tall are more powerful than we choose to remember. How do we preserve the art of storytelling? What often keeps me awake at night is how our world is intoxicated by progress and innovation, choosing to ignore the forgotten wisdom of our past. We choose TikTok over a book or the news over a conversation with a neighbor. There was a time when bards would call into towns and sing stories to crowds; here in Cornwall, we had drolls, the last one of whom lived in the very town I reside in now. The entire UK is scattered with ancient stories yet to be uncovered. The truth is, we need both the innovation of the future and the wisdom of the past to thrive, and it is a sacred duty not only to preserve these stories but also to share them. I wonder what might come up if you went looking for a local story from the land you live upon. Maybe you could ask an elder in your family or visit the local library. Perhaps you hold your own stories within your heart and only wish you knew how best to tend to them and share them with the world. If this rings true for you, then if you haven't already, you should connect with my dearest heart sister Ceryn Rowntree to rekindle your story. There isn't another storyteller I recommend more to guide you through that process. Find her at - www.cerynrowntree.com. I'm pretty sure she has a course in the pipeline for exactly this. When you go looking at local stories of your land, you will need some discernment and remember, just like the Bible, much of history and the stories of the past were heavily influenced by white men of the cloth, often carrying an undercurrent of fear, control, and suppression of women's magic. Yet this was never the intention of stories. Sitting with my spirit kin this month, I was reminded that stories are here to inspire us, to assist in our healing, to encourage growth, but primarily for us to reconnect. If you happen to take up this prompt to explore the stories of where you live, I would love to hear what you discover. What this means for my personal storytelling journey with the land here in Cornwall? This month, I have been deeply musing on all of the above and a rather large project that the spirits have been showing me since last year. Despite my reluctance, I have to admit I have been dragging my feet on this. Unsure if I have the skills or the time to pull it off, yet they have been persistent. I have been communing with the spirits of this land for a while now, sitting with the wisdom in the stories of our ancestors, while also cradling the wounds of misinterpretation and lost magic. At the beginning of the year, I was shown the passing of the stories gently into the palms of my hands, not for me to hold for myself, but for me to pass them on to future generations like precious heirlooms. Not only for preserving our cultural heritage but for replanting the forgotten seeds of magic in us all. It was an invitation to step into the cauldron of imagination, to dance with the muses and weave new tales into the grand tapestry, all while gathering the dropped stitches throughout time and reweaving them back into existence. It is an honor and a terror equally to take on such a task, so for now, I’ll be here, quietly working away with my laptop because apparently, it seems I too have stories to share. Stories of the land, stories of enchantment, freedom, and unlimited potential. I'm told that my first book needs to be birthed out into the world on August 13th, 2025. So we have quite a while yet to explore our journey together. Until then, I will be back to share more later in the month until then don't forget to check out this month's Sacred Weaving Audio below. Oceans of Love 
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