A Tale of Conviction in the midst of Chaos

The wildfire did not arrive as a single event, but as a series of moments—some lived in action, others only felt much later. These pieces belong to that unfolding.

This is a tale of water… and a new pair of shoes.

The Universe speaks to me in signs - little synchronicities that tend to arrive when I am in the middle of a trial.

And I am in one now.

Moving to Cyprus has been both great and dreadful - an oxymoron if ever there was one.

It is great because our home sits in the mountains, and I find deep solace here.

I knew it was ours the moment I stepped through the front door. The signs came thick and fast, confirming what I already felt.

So when the wildfire tore through the surrounding countryside - destroying homes in our village just six weeks after we moved in - my conviction didn’t budge.

Five weeks later, when an arsonist set fire to the house next door and we nearly lost ours again - my conviction still didn’t budge in the midst of all the chaos.

Since then: burst pipes, hidden leaks, taps that trickle promises instead of water, trucks clipping our wall on the narrow corner we live on… and even an earthquake - 5.2 on the Richter scale, which felt “interesting” at the time.

And yet—never have I felt so at home.

As I write this, a plumber is fixing the taps. The leaks, at last, are being resolved.

In Feng Shui, it is said that when water leaks, the house is crying. And if the house is crying, so too - most likely - is its owner.

That feels true.

All of this upheaval has unfolded while the house quietly leaked, unseen, unheard.

But today is a good day. The house cries no more.

And perhaps… neither do I.

A few weeks ago, I travelled back to the UK. I packed lightly, knowing I would be bringing home clothes, books, and bits of my old life. I wore one faithful pair of navy shoes - well-loved, well-worn.

While there, I discovered a hole in the sole.

The heels had been worn for some time, but this felt final. The shoes could not come home with me.

I had to let them go.

It didn’t escape me that I would be walking - flying - home in new shoes.

That I was stepping into something different. Leaving behind all that had been carried in the old pair.

There has been a great deal of unrest in my soul - long before Cyprus.

Toward the end of my trip, two buried traumas surfaced.

The first came gently. A friend, through simple observation, unlocked something I didn’t even realise I had stored away - the fear and shock from the wildfire evacuation months before.

For the first time in nine months, I felt it.

I was tender… but grateful. Because I have a habit of pushing things down - until they rise up later and demand to be felt.

The second came the very next day.

Not gentle.

An emotional eruption tied to a long-running situation - one that has spanned decades but intensified in recent years.

Part of this trip had been about rest. Relief. A reset.

Because while my life in Cyprus is idyllic… my stress levels have been high.

I’ve learned something important:

You can be happy - and deeply stressed - at the same time.

My nervous system had been living in a state of quiet danger. Not feeling safe.

And I didn’t know how to shift it.

So when I returned home, in my new shoes, I believed things would be different.

I believed I had turned a corner.

I was wrong.

Since returning, I’ve felt more reactive than before - quicker to anger, easily overwhelmed by the simplest of tasks.

I was dismayed.

After all… I was wearing new shoes.

But healing, it turns out, is not neat.

What is happening now is not failure - it is release.

My nervous system finally feels safe enough to let go of everything I have held in for so long.

And the second situation?

It will require honesty. Conversations that may not land well. Truths that need to be spoken - not just for them to hear, but for me to heal.

I didn’t have the courage before.

But I do now.

No longer will I allow my good nature to be mistaken for permission.

So - new shoes. No leaks.

A fresh resolve. And no more tears - hidden or otherwise.

Thank you, Universe, for showing me not only what I can endure…but who I am becoming through it.

There are moments when truth arrives softly,

and others when it slips in sideways, disguised as humour.

The Watcher sees what is.

Sage makes it easier to bear.

Between them lies a shared knowing -

of what we carry,

and what, in time, we may learn to release.