Poet W. H. Auden once said, “The poet marries the language, and out of this marriage the poem is born.” To my mind, his famous claim echoes something very old: the idea of marrying the land. Your chosen field. Or maybe, the field that chooses you.
In the Celtic tradition, at Beltane, the king would marry the land—more specifically, he’d wed the goddess of the land—vowing to serve, with humility, a greater vision than one of mere personal gain. Under his reign, the land would only flourish and provide nourishment if he committed his life to her.
In the context of the arts, a high commitment to craft—to the deeper spiritual impulse behind one’s medium of service and expression—also becomes a sacred contract. Marrying your field means working with dedication to learn, practise, fail, succeed, grow, and begin again each day. As a writer, I may not always be at my best. But I’ve pledged my troth. I’m faithful. I show up.
Is it the same for you? What creative pursuit draws you in and enchants you?
To what field is your soul wedded?
And what happens when you also do other things?
For a long time, that last question ached inside me, because I’m someone who walks in two worlds. While my aim as a writer is true, and I’ve been committed to this love affair with language and story for my whole life, I’m also pulled to help people directly as a teacher and coach.
Not a writing coach or book coach, per se (though for years I taught English and still do help certain writers with their work), but a life coach specializing in the art of transformation.
Why?
As a writer, something I learned a long time ago is that doing the inner work of transformation has been crucial to my own ability to stay married to my field—that is, to write books. To publish. To keep growing in my craft.
Learning and applying transformational principles and tools transmutes negative inner states into the more expansive ones necessary for perseverance. That’s so important. Because with most of us, the mettle of focused attention, resilience, expectation, and faith in our true vocation, is something that doesn’t come easily. With the weight of our everyday responsibilities, it’s not convenient. Thus in order to move through perceived obstacles, we have to forge this mettle for ourselves. Within ourselves.
Maybe that’s why my favourite goddess has always been Brigid.
For the Celts and others, not only does she represent the arts of poetry and healing, but also smithcraft.
Brigid is a solar goddess—a bringer of fire who teaches how to bend metal and shape it to serve. Such inner shaping—that is, the reconditioning of old habits and patterns of thought—is crucial if we’re to become a match for the creative tasks before us. I think of fiery Brigid each time I stay in the crucible of my own growth and learning and, just as importantly, as I help others to stay in theirs.
Otherwise, it’s so easy to let our hidden barriers stop us from doing what we love and feel called to do.
And what happens when we succumb to self-doubt and resist, refusing to honour our own sense of mission? All the vibrancy drains out of life. The land becomes barren.
I’ve often said that writing, or any art, must choose those meant to serve it, and not the other way around—because even at the best of times, it can be so difficult. Great writers will tell you writing never gets easier. And there are days when it all feels like a gamble, this marriage. At least—until we learn how to serve with clarity.
What field calls you? What passion? What path?
Whatever it is, with the right tools and support, you can bring your creative visions into form. I know this from having lived it myself—and from years of experience helping others to commit, stay committed to, and realize their dreams.
That brings me to WONDER.
I’m dedicating this Substack to wonder—a state I hold to be crucial for the sense of hope it has the potential to spark in us.
Recently, my husband and I were at a play put on by young actors. The global issues they were exploring were serious, challenging. One of the characters made the statement, “Hope is not a strategy.” And that’s true. Nonetheless, it’s a generative state. A starting point to greater things. Hope is a step on the path to finding a strategy and, ultimately, building faith.
Do you have faith in yourself? Faith that in this life you can give the gifts you’re meant to give? That you can make a difference in this world of serious issues and challenges?
I believe creativity is ageless.
When we create, we can learn to get past the voice in our head that tells us we’re too old to give our gifts and make a difference. Aligned with a sense of true self and soul, we can find the field we knew how to enter easily as children. The field outside of time—of pure potential. Call it a field of dreams. The field we marry again and again.
Quote of the week:
"I've been absolutely terrified every moment of my life and I've never let it keep me from a single thing that I wanted to do."
—Georgia O’Keeffe
I love the quote of the week you shared, Robin... what a treasure chest of gems we can unearth when living by the principle of functioning from our own compass. I haven't read this before and the timing is perfect. Of course!
"I've been absolutely terrified every moment of my life and I've never let it keep me from a single thing that I wanted to do."
—Georgia O’Keeffe
Amazing. Thanks!