From Greece with love.

postcards and a pause to soak in the goodness of Grecian sunshine.

"We are a landscape of all we have seen.”

—Isamu Noguchi.

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Hello dear one,

How are you getting on? I hope you are feeling the softness that seems to find us in May…

I am slowly landing back at home after our family holiday and I am feeling the need to pause and soak in our time away, rather than moving on too quickly and possibly undoing the goodness of the Grecian sunshine. I always find it takes some readjustment for my body and mind after being away, to find itself at home again and to remember how to be here.

Returning in May to (more than) a hint of warmth and the pinkish promise of wisteria on our balcony, feels like our (mostly) sunny sojourn provided a bridge from winterspring into well, actual spring, and even the shimmers of early summer. I have noticed that there is a new feeling in the air — of softening, of lightness and fullness, have you felt it too?

I arrived home to the beautiful gift of an actual postcard from

Carmen Luisa

, a heart-filled handwritten note from her travels in Italy, it felt so warm to receive it. It took me back to childhood trips and the lost art of postcard writing — a thoughtful way of sharing the gems of our travels and the things we have noticed along the way, often a way of telling our loved ones that we wish they were there with us too…

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From stillness to movement.

Travelling somewhere new, I was taken aback by the energy of movement, in contrast to the rooted stillness I have been drawn to in the colder months and most significantly, within the early mothering cocoon of the past four years. The cocoon itself wrapped in the constraints of pandemic living and two babies with an extreme aversion to car travel, I remember now the feeling of my wings being clipped in those early days, and of missing certain places, as well as people.

I am aware of the inward-looking chapter I have been inhabiting since having children — a necessary state of being to allow us to put down roots and find shape in stability (and of course for a time, we had no choice but to stay at home). At the same time, I realise how outward-looking my life was previous to having children. I have talked about moving away from external validation on the path to motherhood, but I haven’t touched on the beauty of being out there in the world — not only for understanding more about the earth beyond our little corner of it, but as a way of becoming more ourselves. As we sense our outline in a different context, we can recognise how we move through the world, in turn allowing all that we see to become a part of us.

Being in a new place with a warmer climate and more sunlight drew me to physical movement (beyond the usual heavy lifting involved in parenting little ones). Each morning, I walked up a steep hill to the quiet of the pine forest for an early yoga class and found a gradual softening in my achy muscles, unfurling into myself, and my surroundings. It felt good to move. As the moon waxes and we move firmly into the brimming energy of late spring, I hope to honour this inner call to move more.

Travelling abroad this time has allowed me to see that there is a need for both movement and stillness to exist and that they are both a part of me — like the sea that greeted me each day of our holiday, either with the calm clarity of serenity or with the wildness of swirling motion.

The feeling of a place.

As I sit to write to you, I can conjure the peace of being in the presence of ancient mountains, forests and sea. The feel of the Grecian sunshine on skin, my body renewed by clear waters, anchored by fine grains of sand underfoot and healed by salt on skin. The expansion of self into a never-ending horizon line and a deepening of my senses whilst immersed in the abundant flora around me. I hope to have brought the feeling of all of these things within me…

see | fields of red poppies, a turquoise ombre sea, expanses of cerulean blue sky, the radiance of a sunset. A different light.

taste | the inimitable joy of a buffet breakfast, fresh flavours, and let’s be honest, a lot of ice cream.

feel | the reviving chill of sea water. Slipping into ease of warmth and the feeling of feet on ancient land.

scent | jasmine in morning air, a fragrant herb garden, the nostalgia of suncream.

listen | a different language, a cacophony of childhood and the song of the sea.

I witnessed my children expanding into a new place too, somewhere unlike home where buildings obscure our view of the expanses of sky and the sea is far away. For them to experience the truth that other places exist beyond their corner of the world, allowing them to feel both big and small, and for us to find our way to holiday together.

Being together.

This was our first time away as a family of four and we fell into a rhythm that is hard to achieve in everyday life when there are different pressures, demands and schedules. As parents, it took the form of a shared experience, rather than trying to navigate our own separate loads. I had very low expectations in terms of ease and relaxation but somehow it did feel invigorating, restful and something like a break.

Aside from an hour of a yoga class each day, we were together, allowing us to sink into a symmetrical family dynamic with a semblance of equanimity — a canvas for deeper threads of relationship to be woven and tied together.

And despite a fairly challenging return journey, finally arriving home at 2am, I noticed that as my children grow, certain things do become more easeful. Where the thought of travel has felt impossible at times and certainly at odds with the stability and familiarity of home, journeying is in fact a way of seeing ourselves more clearly, allowing us to become a part of other worlds for a short time and them a part of us, always.

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Thank you so much for reading — I would love to hear if you are in a chapter of movement or stillness. Where is your favourite place to travel and where is home?

I hope we can chat more in the comments, or of course feel free to send me an email with your thoughts.

Lyndsay xx

A warm hello to anyone new here, I’m Lyndsay, mother, creative and storyteller with a background in interiors PR. Story & Thread. is a weekly letter exploring the intersection of creativity, mothering and the living world, with a home and a garden at the heart...

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