Why i’ve been so quiet lately
So… yes, I’ve been a bit quiet.
Not disappearing entirely, just sort of floating in that dreamy in-between space. You know the one — where time feels slower, softer, and your body is quietly asking for rest and solitude and maybe fewer notifications.
I took a proper summer break this year. One where I gave myself permission to just be. Not editing. Not emailing. Not posting. Just soaking up slow mornings and light-filled days. Letting the sun do its thing on my skin while my mind wandered wherever it wanted.
But as that pause started blending into August, something shifted. I felt this deep craving for a space that was only mine. Outside the house. Away from the hum of chores and everyday distractions. I needed somewhere sacred. Somewhere I could return to myself, without roles or expectations.
A Summer House!!
It’s small and a little wild, nestled at the end of the garden. But this space holds me in a way few others do. It’s where I paint (messily). Where I sew. Where I light candles and whisper to the universe and listen for whatever whispers back.
There’s a little altar full of intention — crystals, jars of herbs, incense, lavender, salt, worn-out brushes, angel cards, and tiny treasures that hold stories only I really know. It’s cluttered in a soft, enchanted sort of way. And somehow, being here helps me breathe differently. Slower. Deeper. Clearer.
I didn’t plan to write about it. But I think part of reemerging — after such a gentle season — is letting you in on the pieces of life that happen quietly behind the scenes.
Because while I’m here, soaking up this slow sacred space... I’m also still on-call.
Holding space for one beautiful family as they welcome their baby boy soon.
Doula hat on. Camera in hand. Heart wide open.
I’m in that liminal place — between the deep stillness of summer and the powerful presence birth work demands. It’s tender. A little unpredictable. And it’s exactly where I need to be right now.
This little summer house helps me stay rooted while I hold space for others.
It lets me refill my cup in- the- between, so to speak.
So that’s where I’ve been.
And where I am.
In the quiet. In the in-between.
Creating, waiting, softening.
And always — always — returning to what feels true.
With love from my little enchanted corner in Beckenham,
Deborah xxx



