
8 | Telling The Bees: What My Dad Left Behind
THE NERVE OF YOU - Nervous System, Burnout, Identity, Fascia Release, Creativity, Visibility, Slow Living, Getting Your Mojo BackShow Notes
Are family traditions something you groan at or feel secretly proud to be carrying on? Since when was turning into your parents a good thing? And when was the last time the far-too-often boring-ass adult in you was filled with the wonder of a child? Come round to my gaff for honey-harvesting season. Neighbours, friends, old memories and a few unexpected lessons gather round the noisy spinner.
From a revered Cork bee charmer who taught me the word surfeit, to my Dad's decades of beekeeping, the ancient Irish tradition of telling the bees and the astonishing intelligence of these tiny creatures. Somewhere between uncapping the comb, spinning the honey and getting very sticky, I find myself thinking about what we inherit, what we pass on and what we might be ready to begin ourselves. In this episode:
What bees can teach us about community and working as one
What we inherit from our ancestors - and what we choose to carry forward
Why curiosity might be enough reason to follow an idea
Grab a cuppa and let's go to the hive! 🎨 Next Step: Join The Curious Club: The Curious Club: thenerveofyoupod.myflodesk.com/ thecuriousclub
More from THE NERVE OF YOU - Nervous System, Burnout, Identity, Fascia Release, Creativity, Visibility, Slow Living, Getting Your Mojo Back
Does just the thought of asking for help leave you lightheaded, your blood pressure plummeting? People-pleaser your middle name? Deed poll forms filled out and ready to go? Welcome to my Wednesday afternoon. After rushing to make a Zoom call, I fractured my foot. But even sitting in A&E, my first instinct was to apologise for missing the meeting. What followed was more than a physical recovery. It exposed a familiar pattern of putting other people's needs before my own and the surprising discomfort of asking for help. In this episode, I explore the emotional side of injury, the fear of being an inconvenience, the unexpected power of receiving support, and the breathing and fascia practices I've been exploring during recovery. Sometimes the hardest thing isn't doing more. It's allowing someone else to help. In this episode:
Ever have one of those days when you genuinely don’t know what to do? You can think harder, try to figure it out, look for the right answer - and somehow end up even more tangled That’s me today It’s publish-my-podcast day, I’m tired, I’ve nothing ready to go and my usual instinct to push through stress is nowhere to be found Instead, I notice the dancing shadows of the birch tree I make a matcha I take off my runners and walk into the garden And I let nature do the heavy lifting In this episode of The Nerve of You, I’m exploring what happens when we stop demanding that we know what comes next — and give ourselves permission to simply be where we are In the episode:
Ever notice how quickly “I’m exhausted” can become “I’m not coping”? Or how a sore shoulder becomes "there's something’s wrong with me". And feeling "I'm behind" becomes "I’m failing at life"? What if noticing didn’t have to come with a verdict? In this episode of The Nerve of You, I’m at the sea, tired and carrying a lot, when I find myself completely absorbed in the tiny details around me: the light on water, reflections, ripples, shadows. And how something changes. Noticing brings me back into the world - and back into myself. This isn’t another thing you need to add to your nervous system toolkit. It’s a five-minute invitation to stop trying to fix yourself and become available to what’s already there. In the episode:
When the sea calls you somewhere you didn't know you needed to go. My beautiful Dad died last week. A few hours later, I went swimming in the sea. In this episode of The Nerve of You, I’m sharing the interconnectedness of it all in those early days of grief, why I found myself drawn to the sea and the unexpected ways my Dad still felt very close. In the episode:
Ever take a flight in search of a life-changing revelation, only to have your head turned by a pair of battered stilettos? I fly to London to see the Mind Architect, Peter Crone. Another blonde — a dead one — steals his thunder. A last-minute red-eye, a 100th birthday exhibition and a pair of Ferragamos stop me in my tracks. Somewhere between Marilyn's well-worn, formerly white heels and the experience I've actually travelled for, I'm falling in love again with following where threads of curiosity lead me. In this episode: