Before she was…


The draw to the hut was strong. My body ached with the need and desire to go there. 

‘I will come and stay for a month,’ I turned to him and said running my hand across a wooden log, the cabin was made from. I was there, but I was not, not fully, not like I needed or wanted to. 

‘I will stay with you. We can go fishing and berry picking.’ He wiped mosquito off his cheek. The stickiness of the summer evening on my skin felt strange and it smelt strongly of jasmine. That place was ripe with everything nature, just like in my childhood. I wanted to drink it in. 

In the cabin there were people. They looked happy going about their business. I remember being overcome by jealousy for their fortune of being able to stay there. It was like I was there, but I was not. From my dream I observed it all. I was just a visitor in that place, but in my blood, I knew it as my home from long ago. The ache of wanting to live there rose again. 

There were several rooms: a hall, a big lounge, and an attic. Each room had its purpose. A child joined me and began following me everywhere. It was a small boy but had a girl’s name and looks very pretty. I sat on a sofa and a young woman came and covered me with a blanket. A young man, who showed me around appeared to be in charge. The place felt pure, kind, yet it held secrets, codes, treasures to be discovered. I became very curious. 

‘Where can I find her,’ I asked him. 

He turned away fiddling with a piece of wood in his hand. 

‘I should not really tell you. May be just leave it. It has been a long time and you do not know what it will lead to.’ He looked at me with understanding and warmth. 

‘I do know what you are saying. I do. I just wondered if she was around.’

And then he said, ‘She is around, all around. She is right next door.’

‘Left, or right?’ I asked. 

He looked right but meant left. Somehow, I understood that. 

Once outside everything was lush green with rowans lining up the road on both sides. Late summer. Berries were beginning to redden. I took it all in. It smelt like rich soil and home. I was home. And then darkness. I plunged into it suddenly and it felt comforting. The thing about darkness, you might not be able to see anyone, but no one can see you either. I always found that comforting to know. I took my shoes off and walked out of the gate and looked where her house was. It was large and beautiful. Luxurious with big windows. I felt scared. Night summer air intoxicatingly alluring. I took another deep breath. 

‘I could not possible go in that house,’ I thought. So imposing and grand, not what I expected, and it was right there, next to the house I stayed in. 

Next, I walked back through the gate and stood on a bench lined up against the gate to peek into the windows next door. I knew I should not be doing it but could not help it. Curiosity took over. And then I saw cats, lots of back cats. They were the size of dogs. They roamed the boarder scowling. They began moving towards me as soon as they spotted me. I froze in terror. They snarled at me, and one sank her teeth into my leg. I felt sharp pain. They withdrew.

I ran into the house, but someone followed me in. I turned around and there she was. Young and beautiful, simply dressed. Her hair colour I recognised, as my own, when I was a child. Decorative small earrings, nothing out of the ordinary apart from her face. Intensely kind, shining from within she was. I felt her goodness, but also darkness all at the same time. She was both life and death. She took my hand in hers, which felt clammy and cool, but not unpleasant. I froze, fascinated, honoured, and humbled all at the same time. Then she told me her name… It was her, before she was her.

It was one of those significant dreams, which I have not had for some time. I am grateful to receive one last night. Dreams are products of our psyche. They are from us, about us and for us. Over my lifetime I learnt to recognise various categories of dreams. This one belongs to a ‘telling’ dream that contained several messages for me and reflected aspects of my own consciousness that should help me moving forward. It was fairy tale like with vivid landscapes, vibrant colours, and strong smells. I touched objects and people with intent and purpose that remains with me now on waking. I love sensory dreams like this one and it just had to be recorded. She was there, the young version of her, before she became her… 

Happy Yule, everyone!

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The Crone and I at Samhain

I heard her say ‘Get on a horse’ and without hesitation I got into my car and drove to the woods that called me. She was all around and Samhain felt near. I felt calm and ready to commune with her.


The woods kept changing atmosphere from grey and wet to light and shimmering. Autumnal light streamed through the golden tops of blackened tree bodies. I felt a sense of intention and joy within. She was near and I was reassured. I realised her confidence-building purpose and quality as I developed my own inner hearing. She is and always has been on the side of the feminine and healing of the wounded maiden was just one intention she carried. Today I truly felt that having been through the maiden and mother stages.


Cronehood is a stage I truly look forward to and even more so with her by my side. I am excited and curious about things to come. Today she was full of lessons and the more I engaged with her the more I felt I could truly understand the symbology and meaning behind her one-sentenced phrases. She doesn’t say much and very intentional with what she discloses.
She spoke of the importance of our bodies, physicality and how our disconnection from the animal-selves caused discord and imbalance in many areas as a result. She spoke of nature and landscape as essential parts to any life as they hold the animal-self within offering us to connect back to the earth, the self and spirit of things. Only through deeply feeling into the physical and matter-like within us we can encounter the spirit. It is all interconnected.


She spoke of how we disempower ourselves via covering up by dying our hair, messing about with nails and shaving off what’s intended to be there. And not only that we create a world of shame, unacceptable, conforming and pleasing to the external as a result. We cut off from the natural self by avoiding our own beauty, the natural kind. Our crown becomes dimmed with chemicals and that magic that can be felt in the fingers is dimmed. I can relate to the fingers holding the paper well and am guilty of not looking after myself in that area. I connected instantly to the message of disempowering myself by not being kind and nurturing to myself. It saddened me.


With the crone hood stage we are invited to delve into another stage of coming back to ourselves. I feel excited by it.


Last year she spoke her word to me, which I turned into a book. It comes out in December and I look forward to sharing the message with more women around the world.


Pre-order HERE


Latest review:

“You have given the world a delightful and deep examination of Baba Yaga from your insightful and learned perspective. Thank you.

 In a world where uncertainty and fear are the currency of the day, we can become enchanted by a sort of artificial lightness that ultimately only makes us more anxious. We become terrified of the dark. Yet it is in the dimness of our own souls that we find refuge from the harshness of life.

If we are able to peer into this darkness we may see a peculiar little house governed by a curious figure. Baba Yaga, crone of legend, greets us with a glint in her eye, and a question on her lips. “Who are you?” she inquires with a cackle. Natalia Clarke answers this question, while exploring the stories and characteristics of Baba Yaga through traditional lore and personal insights. Merging together her Slavic origins, training in depth psychology, and natural spiritual practices, she is our companion as we venture into the mysteries of this face of the crone. Beautifully written with journal entries, dream explorations, and ways to connect with Baba Yaga, I highly recommend this delightful book for anyone who wants to go deeper into her mysteries.”

By Cyndi Brannen, the author of Keeping Her Keys

My morning with flowers

Music In The Plants


As I kneel by a hedgerow wild, windswept and bountiful with buckthorn, nettles and hips


I hear a song rising from within me


Voice begins to fly out in tunes old and soulful that repeat in perfect harmony


What a trance this is, like nothing else It carries me deep into the land’s knowing

Long forgotten yet still living


I sing and sing collecting plants that with a ‘yes’ come into my surrender

Wanting to live and having their song carried into awareness of gatherers.

From Soul Land collection

August 2020

Soul land

It is a period of wrapping things up in a wider sense of the beginning of the harvest season. To me it makes absolutely sense and after all is said and done what is left is a simple life, gratitude, people that we love, fulfilling work and creativity in every day with self-awareness, but not analysis. We are now done with analysis, I feel, and shifted towards moment-by-moment daily values and really breathing life in as it comes. This year has brought so many improvements to the ways things run, which is applicable to individual lives and the collective, and it is good to be able to look back and be grateful for having arrived at this point in the year and see how things were and how they are now through our own personal creation, tweaking, restructuring and letting things fall away as needed. The difference is huge. I am excited to start reaping the fruits/rewards of the seeds that I planted back in March. I remember that period of confusion, trepidation and nervous excitement of the unknown. Planting season always keeps me sane and grounded. Here we are with my land bursting with fresh organic produce that ends up on my plate and in my body. Very satisfying, indeed.

This summer for the first time in many years I am not depressed. I get seasonal summer depression (SAD in reverse) every year with no fail, but not this time. Instead I have been happy and noticed how I enjoy everything, however small, and gratitude has gone up a level also transforming to this shining light that doesn’t go out, but just accompanies me in everything that I do. I am able to be more and for longer and find it a lot more natural, up another level. I have learnt to stay in one place and be okay with it. I am slower and more intentional and what has been the most useful change is simplifying everything even more. For years I have had up to three jobs and multiple projects on the go all at the same time. I slowly reduced and culled in that area and this year it is the final alteration, I hope, to the whole work dynamic. I actually want to have just one job from here onwards – this is alien as you can imagine, but necessary. As always my way of living and being has been 100% intuitive and I attribute satisfactory results to my intuition, which I have never distrusted. I don’t know any other way to live at this point and it has truly changed my life many years ago when I stepped into understanding that my inner voice is the one I need to follow. My intuition is my magic.

My trip to Scotland this year has been utterly different too. I did wonder in the last year if things were going to change following a lot of work done on it last year and struggles and turmoil last summer. It did change in a very natural and gentle way. My predictions were correct and my work paid off. As I drove on empty roads in Argyll on the way to the islands I was surrounded by pine forests and wild flowers everywhere. I saw a cloak of grief not being there anymore. The lump in my throat was no longer there. I felt free, almost flying. I could finally exhale with ease. Sadness, overwhelm and confusion cleared up, evaporated and all I felt was the land just being there, unchanged, unshaken and blooming as usual. Immense comfort entered me and it remained unchanged for the duration of the trip. I felt happy every single day. I reached some sort of completion on my journey of seven years. The number, I realised, was significant, as every grief that comes my way is always intense and lasts for seven years exactly. This was no different.

Today I can say that the feeling of contentment and calm is here within me and very welcome it is too. Being back home is like slotting into a place that holds me. It is comfortable, snug and functional. It might not be my soul home, but it is a secure base, something I created and share with people that I love. There is beauty in that for sure. I look forward to autumn and winter immensely and getting back to writing and creating.

Soul land review

In which Soul Land is highly recommended. James Nicol is a well respected member of the druid community and founded an influential contemplative project

https://contemplativeinquiry.blog/2020/08/06/book-review-soul-land

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