My 38th birthday.

Weekly Honey 02. What I'm loving, reading, writing, excited about. X

It was my birthday on the weekend!!

38, born in ’88, feeling great.

I woke up this morning (writing this on my bday) to a big bunch of birthday balloons, the most gorgeous flowers, hand made cards from my kids, my husbands signature loooooong heart-felt card and some pressies!

There’s not much this gal wants in terms of pressies but my husband did nail it— he got me some snazzy tortoise shell blue blockers. Well played my guy, well played. Plus some grounding sheets, and grounding shoes and loads of loco love choccies.

My favourite thing about my birthday is how my kids hear me coming down the stairs and they run around saying ‘mums up! Mums up! She’s coming!’ Then they assemble around the balloons and gifts together and yell HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

So many of my friends have hit 40 recently or are just about to and we often talk about what we’re gonna do. The pressure to celebrate big is real. But as I always say— birthdays are about who you love, and who loves you.

They’re the day when you hear from those who love you most, and who you love most. That is the gold of birthdays— especially as you get older and you realise you have received a birthday msg from some friends for 20 years straight, no matter where in the world you’ve been.

I am so grateful for the people in my life. WELP.

In all honesty last week was a rough week for me. Sometimes it happens like this around my birthday— maybe for you too?

Yesterday my ride-or-die friends who I’ve known for 20+ friends and I went to lunch. One friend organised it all and picked me up which is such a luxury— zero mental effort on my part. We started with oysters and hot chips, and chatted and laughed in a way that those who have known each other so long can.

My mum, sisters, niece and nephew came over for dinner and all of us were together, which is only a bi-yearly thing considering my bro lives in Bali and we have our own travel too. My younger sis is also a rogue chick and often out of town.

My kids baked me a home made cake, with Erik— our family tradition.

Sol and I ran down to the beach to soak in the sun. She drew a big love heart in the sand and wrote ‘Mum is 38!’. We did a little beach sprint relay, and then I laid and sunbathed with as much skin getting the charged up UV as possible. It is actually a nudist beach, but I don’t have the guts to go full nude where everyone knows everyone. I’ll save that for Italy.

And mumma got some solo time too. Sweet, sweet solo time to walk and to write til my heart was content.

Just before I sat to write this, I went on a prayer walk.

I put my headphones in, as if I was on a direct call to God. I spoke out loud too, so the busy path of walkers would’ve thought I was on a very expressive phone call.

I was.

My long time readers love when I talk about the prayer walks and so you betcha I’m going to write a play-by-play on how I do them- stay tuned. This is probably the post I am most fanging to write.

I have unconventional views about prayer. I believe prayer is meant to be visceral. I believe that we are meant to feel our prayers and expect them, not just request them out loud while secretly believing they’re out of reach.

I believe God made us to fully participate, which means not just shout words, but to embody the words. To expect what we’re asking. To make them visceral.

If the Kingdom of God is within, which I believe it is, then our prayers have to be a full body experience— not just words that are secretly incongruent with what we believe is possible.

This is where is all comes full circle for me— prayer is reverence for our creator while also remembering that God gave us creative abilities too. It’s fusing them both.

Last week after this entry, I received loads of messages asking for me to go deeper into visceral prayer and I thought— SAY LESS. I’d love to. Let me know if you’re keen for that too (the draft has been started).

Before I get into the weekly honey for this week, I want to say thank you for being here— sincerely.

I am really back in the saddle on Substack and so excited to be growing in a very clear direction— feeling on fire again, creating a life that is as exciting and lit up as it is grounded and calm, reinventing after success, BTS of a woman who has had it all so now what? AND all the rogue side quests that will always be a fun part of Honeycomb.

SO many new paid subscribers have joined us and I am clearer than ever about what my readers are hungry for.

Feel free to comment below to let me know too.

Ok weekly honey let’s go:

What I’m loving:

Having my brother visit for my mum’s 70th birthday and how my kids counted down the days. They made his bed, put a fresh towel on it, sol made him a card and they put a chocolate eclair from the bakery (fresh) on top. Sol is such a hospitality girl. She loves making things beautiful for people.

What I’m reading:

In my rotation beside my bed right now (actually, beside Sol’s bed cos I fall asleep with her) are:

• Books about mountaineering, including ‘Into Thin Air’, ‘Beyond Possible’, and others about George Mallory, and Alex Honnold (which I cannot read without sweating buckets from palms). I made the mistake of reading the latter at night and wound myself up so much with adrenaline I didn’t sleep.
  
  After the tragic avalanche on Broad Peak late July, my entire IG algorithm was full of mountaineering posts— tributes to Nims Dai (who i’d never heard of before the accident), and the other 9 climbers who lost their lives. I found myself in only threads reading about avalanches and crampons and how they pin their tents to the side of snowy mountains in full trust that they won’t blow away?! and how they poo on the ice but it doesn’t compost cos it’s so cold? So nice they have special gel poo bags? And how sometimes people steal others oxygen like WHAT?! and the fact that there are bodies that have remained on the mountains for years, sometimes decades?! Like one guy called Green Boots? And the ravens pick eyeballs out of the bodies? And sometimes families prefer the bodies stay on the mountains because they believe is the right final resting place? It’s a whole other world.
  

  In 2023 we went to Chamonix in France. We drove from our home in Northern Italy at a last minute decision. I was about 8/9 weeks pregnant with Figgy and we got the very last of the snow season. Mum was with us, and none of us, aside from my husband had ever skii’d before. So, we went. Kids did lessons and mum and I did some rookie business. Yes, I went skiing for the first time in the first trimester but I didn’t go far enough to get into trouble. I played it safe.
  
  One day we took the gondola up to the top and the weather was awful— windy, snowy and zero visibility. As we went higher and higher, the cable car was rocking and looking down at the drop was making me SO anxious, and nauseous. My kids were sat there smiling with their rosy red cheeks and I was praying to God we would get up, get down and never have to do this again. My gosh I hate those sharply ascending cable cars/gondolas (not sure which is the right term).
  
  Anyway, during that trip, I became fascinated with mountaineering, and why people climb so high especially in the snow. Mum did too. Coming from sea level Mediterranean life in Perth, mountain life is fascinating. We bought books and were hooked, learning about the mountaineering spirit and all the little gory details about death zones etc.
  
  I prefer hiking in the sunshine.
  
  I have no desire to scale Everest at least not now. But I am so intrigued by the mountaineering world!
  
  I love witnessing the human spirit, fully alive in others.

  
  So, this last week I have been immersing myself in these books, and although many of the stories end in tragedy, there is so much to learn about the human spirit, perseverance, and also the mightiness of nature.
  
  I sometimes think dam if these guys can spend two months at altitude and climb to the literal death zone with no oxygen, then I can post on social media super honestly without fearing the comments you know?
  

• I recently read Jonathon Livingstone Seagull by Richard Bach. It heard it was one of MJ’s favourite books. I can see why. Different for sure but beautiul. It encourages the pursuit of excellence. Which, is right up my alley. I can totally see MJ reading and resonating with that book— it has a gentle spirit and a love of excellence as I believe he did.
  

• The Artists Way by Julia Cameron. I just got a fresh copy to revisit. Old one is in storage. Has been a while and i love touching back in with the classics.
  

What I’m excited about:

Those who have followed me for a while may remember the vision I had about the homeschool hubs back in 2021. I created a vision for hubs where homeschooled kids did classes of their own choosing, while their parents could write/work/workout in the same hub. Family-centred hubs. I made a website for it all (still got it) and planned for the Italy home to be hub #1, and a building I bought in the South West of Aus to be #2. I decked it out, furnished it, and hired someone to manage for me. I made a rookie error with #2 and it wasn’t zoned correctly and tbh, it was not the right spot for the model. I learned a lot about all that needs to be considered.

I parked the vision, but it’s still been very alive in me and I’m feeling the call to go for it, but somewhere new. Stay tuned.

What I’m writing this week:

For the big post later this week, I am writing about how I used my menstrual cycle and my human design as excuses to hide when I was gaining creative momentum. I’m going to share how I learned to honour my cycle while still growing in momentum calmly and excitedly and it’s for YOU if you are so insanely self aware, you SO want to grow and be on fire again, but you keep sabotaging in subtle ways.

It’ll be for paid subs! Upgrade if you’re keen.

The unglamorous bit:

Guys. The other day one of my best friends from interstate surprised us with a quick visit. She gave no notice (I love that about her- she’s such a ‘pop in’ kinda gal)…. But the thing is…. our guard dog did not expect her either. Yikes! She has come through the gate with her beautiful high energy, and our dog has not recognised her and has nipped the back of her leg. It was more a warning nip than an actual bite but it still hurts. She did it once to me when we first got her (she was a rescue and so naturally anxious).

It’s not a deep bite, it’s healing well, we treated it immediately with iodine (topically) and Ledum (homeo) immediately. But DAM I felt terrible.

It was a really funny energy week last week, but my birthday was SO wholesome and full of love and I felt all that epic energy of starting a new personal year.

See you later in the week with some signature Pk fire.

Lotsa love,

PK XX