It always takes me by surprise when, post-Lammas, I find myself swamped beneath a wave of deconstruction and transformation. I forget during the heady growth of the spring/summer months that all will not stay the same. I even manage to convince myself, in my darker moments, that there is no hope of change, ever ; surely I am destined to live a life of mundanity.

I forget that mundanity is sacred. That every mundane moment is a step towards transformation and when we reach the end of the year, if we’ve managed to take enough steps, we will -whether we intend to or not- find ourselves somewhere new.

This year more than any other I find myself in foreign lands with a harvest I could never have predicted.

I am a mother. Mother to a son who can stand and babble and laugh and blow spectacular raspberries. I have never felt more alive than when we laugh together. I have never hurt as much as when he cries. I have never wanted to do less, more than I do right now. I know that this is exactly right.

Creating our little miracle has drained me of energy, time and resources in a way I could never imagine. I do not feel deprived and I would give him more if I had it, but he has made me profoundly aware of my limitations as a human being.

None of this is a bad thing.

It is in fact a perfect thing, a miraculous thing, a truth I have been waiting to encounter my whole life: It is right to rest. To do nothing. To linger. It is a right – not a privilege – to live within our own truth, our own boundaries, our unique wants and needs. All the wild wonderings that have swirled in my gut my whole life, those edges that have jarred so spectacularly with the way our modern world is structured, have begun settling into place and I see myself – through his eyes – in my wholeness. I make sense now. And so too do so many choices I have made in the past that once seemed at odds with what I thought was reality. I realise now they were made by and for the whole person, who was waiting to be realised through the acceptance of her role as mother.

I knew that having a child would be important… I never expected the one to benefit most would be my self.

This isn’t me declaring my commitment to the mummy cause by changing this blog to yet another mama diary (there’s enough awesome ones out there already, like here, here and here). But you are likely to see more mama related writing if you stick around.

This is however a declaration of change. Of the whole blog/brand/being that Walk the Wheel has been until now. This past year has sown the seeds of this transformation; Samhain marks the time of both its ending and beginning.

The time is right, the Wheel has turned and my cauldron is brimming with desire, with determination and with inspiration.

So I will to sink into the dark and quiet of the year, to embrace these stirrings of possibility in all their uncertainty, trusting that something new and better will be born of them in Spring.

There will be a considered and intentional silence both here and on the mailing list and on the Facebook group over the Winter season. I am trusting the Wheel to turn without me.

I look forward to meeting friends old and new when I return. Look out for a face that is similar but not the same. For I am already a new woman, emboldened by my wholeness… Who knows what I will be when I am rested and revitalised, ready to birth a brand new year?

Until then…




If you’re looking for my Grow Your Blog post for 2014 go here!
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As we approach the end of the month and step into the New Lunar Year I am filled with a rather unexpected feeling: Hope.

Imbolc is approaching and life is opening itself to new beginnings all over the place so it might seem ridiculous that hope should be unexpected, but recently has been as elusive as a cool spring of water in the driest of deserts.

I delved deep into the darkness of Winter over recent weeks. It wasn’t always poignant or meaningful, a lot of the time it was scary, unpleasant and deeply unsettling, and it was difficult to imagine anything beginning or feeling hopeful whilst I was there. But it also gave me the one thing I’d been craving, that gift which the season offers but so few choose to take: Rest.



Taking a rest was almost a challenge, especially as a lot of it was spent alone and without distraction. I struggle to keep my mind focused on the present when I’m alone and this can lead to worry or fear creeping in, which are not restful in the slightest. But through perseverance and hard-won acceptance I discovered that I was able to trust my Self to want and do the right things, the things that my body and soul needed to rest and heal.

Sometimes those things were quiet and solitary – lots of long walks and spots of meditation – others were more vigorous – writing stories and planning events (more on that to follow in future posts!). All came together to weave a soul-bed in which I could allow my self to rest and ponder and dream; the kind of space that Winter holds so well. And not only did I benefit from it with a renewed energy supply and new ideas, I also felt more in tune with the World than I have in quite a while.



So now, on Imbolc Eve, I can truly feel the first stirrings of Hope and Inspiration that the Goddess Brighid comes to bless us with. I am also aware of a New Moon shining tonight; the beginning of a beginning as it marks the start of a New Lunar Year, which the Chinese are calling the Year Of The Horse. I am hopeful that all these auspicious signs are weaving together with the land itself, as it starts to wake from its Winter slumber, to urge me (and all of us) into new beginnings and new opportunities  of our own.


Happy New Lunar Year!


Having woken from my brief hibernation I can promise a round of new posts in the coming days and weeks. Look out for an Imbolc Musing, an update on some new real-world events, the final collection of my January Small Stones and some in-depth looks into Walk the Wheel – how it works and why.

I hope you’ll join me there 🙂


All written materials and images, unless otherwise stated, are property of Kelly Tomlin 2016.
We gather together to Walk the Wheel; to share with one another and be inspired.