We've got a Mountain to Move

Or, reflections on a 31st birthday

Dec 30, 2024

Today, we’re going to try something a little different. I want you to just trust me and go with it.

So before you sit down to read this piece I invite you to settle in, get your headphones on, and open up your music platform of choice. Then I want you to find three specific songs:

Free, Florence and the Machine
Never One Thing, May Erlewine
Mountain to Move, Nick Mulvey

If it’s Spotify, I’ve very helpfully made you a playlist so you don’t even have to search for them yourself (don’t mention it, least I could do).

First though, before you hit play, some context.

Something to be proud of

Just before Christmas, I spent a good hour on Brighton’s Donut Groyne (less filthy than it sounds, and yes, I also only learned what a groyne is very recently). I was staring out at the crashing winter waves and listening to three songs on repeat.

These are the songs that have accompanied me on my journey this year and it was a deeply cathartic and emotional experience.

It was actually just one of many such experiences that I was lucky enough to have that week as I fully embraced this December as a time for reflection.

A day after groyne-ganza, I sat around with my housemates, or really I should say friends, and one of them asked the question: what are you proud of this year?

Oof.

In a year where I’ve feel like I’ve been on a constant roller coaster; where I’ve let anxiety and fear dictate so much of my day-to-day; where my business is nowhere near where I thought it would be; where I’ve spent far more time napping then I’d care to admit; and where I’ve struggled to make “progress” in any of the ways in which society taught me to measure it, I didn’t have any immediate answers.

But then something beautiful happened.

After a tentative start, the three of us spent nearly two hours talking through all of the things we were proud of ourselves for doing in these past twelve months. From one of us opening themselves up to love, to one of us making it through a redundancy and a major redirection to a nourishing new life path, to one of us learning how to make chickpea tofu (heyo!), affirmative words poured from us.

We held hands, we cried, we laughed (and we ate the aforementioned chickpea tofu).

As you can imagine, over the course of two hours I said many things, not all of which were about learning to cook. But the thing that I hadn’t realised until that moment, is that I am proudest of myself for opening up my heart, mind, and body to new experiences. And, crucially, only being able to do that by leaving my cynicism at the door.

As my friend reminded me, the day I moved in to my new house, we did a cacao ceremony. I had never touched a drop of the stuff, had no idea what was happening and listened intently as the others shared openly how they were feeling and what was going on for them. I, who at the time was feeling sick, nervous, mildly terrified and completely lost, said “I’m feeling good and excited to be here.”

Fin.

And here I was, seven months later, pouring my heart and soul out freely and willingly.

However hard it has been mentally and emotionally, and believe me it has been hard, I am so proud of the work I have done to begin to connect with my thoughts, feelings, values and intuition in a much more authentic way. To rediscover myself as a complex, confused human animal who is very much a part of nature. To realise that feeling our feelings and communicating them with each other is not something to be scoffed at, or dismissed as a bit ‘woo woo’. To be someone who unflinchingly said yes to attending an energy cleanse on a Wednesday evening and came downstairs to say that I’d cried and thought I might have caught a glimpse of my spirit animal.

And I bet some (or even most) of you reading this are feeling uncomfortable right now. Thinking “this is all a bit much” or “alright for you, but definitely not for me thanks.” To you, all I would say is, why not consider giving it all a go? What do you have to lose?

Because what I’ve come to believe even more deeply than when I started this whole thing is that before we can transform our systems, we need to transform how we relate to ourselves and to each other.

So, on that note, I invite you to partake in this musical journey with me. Be open, don’t judge yourself and just see how it makes you feel…

Free - Florence and the Machine

Before you hit play on this one, I want to explain some context as to why it’s meant so much to me this year and what I want you to bear in mind while you listen.

For those of you who don’t know my story, at the end of 2023 I quit my job with no plans as to what was coming next. All I knew was that I wanted a break from the 9-5 and a break from the hectic pace of London life.

I also knew that I was becoming increasingly disillusioned with society’s metrics of success and that chasing after them wasn’t bringing me much joy. I’d also become much more ‘polycrisis aware’, whatever that means, and was feeling the kindling of something deep in my belly telling me that I had to fundamentally change what I valued and how I lived my day-to-day if I wanted to live a life that was aligned to what I was coming to realise about how the modern world operates.

In comes Florence and the Machine with a song she released in 2022 but that I discovered on my sunrise runs in January 2024: out of breath, hands freezing in the winter cold but a feeling of immense possibility rising in my chest.

In a moment you’re going to listen to the full thing, but here’s a taster of some of the lyrics that really hit me deep in the feels:

I'm always running from something

I push it back, but it keeps on coming

And being clever never got me very far

Because it's all in my head

And "You're too sensitive", they said

Pwoah. How many times had I been made to feel too emotional at work? How much stress had I put my body and mind under by focusing on proving my intellectual worth to colleagues, peers, society at large? How long had I been fighting this feeling that “this cannot be all there is to my experience of life on this earth”?

And she goes on:

Is this how it is?

Is this how it's always been?

To exist in the face of suffering and death

And somehow still keep singing

Is this not exactly what I was awakening to? That amidst this crisis and the seemingly endless suffering we see all over our social media feeds, all over the news and all around us, the most important thing we can do is to find the strength to keep on singing?

'Cause I hear the music, I feel the beat

And for a moment, when I'm dancing

I am free, I am free

And isn’t that what any living thing really wants? To be free? What could be a more universal human experience across time and space than to feel music coursing through your veins?

And on that note, I invite you to close your eyes, press play (on reflection, maybe do that the other way around) and think about what it is that you keep on running from and what it is that makes you feel truly free.

Ready? Go.

Lyrics (you can read along while you listen, if, that is, you haven’t already closed your eyes)

Sometimes I wonder if I should be medicated

If I would feel better just slightly sedated

A feeling comes so fast and I cannot control it

I'm on fire, but I'm trying not to show it

As it picks me up, puts me down

It picks me up, puts me down

Picks me up, puts me down

A hundred times a day

It picks me up, puts me down

It chews me up, spits me out

Picks me up, puts me down

I'm always running from something

I push it back, but it keeps on coming

And being clever never got me very far

Because it's all in my head

And "You're too sensitive", they said

I said, "Okay, but let's discuss this at the hospital"

As it picks me up, puts me down

It picks me up, puts me down

Picks me up, puts me down

A hundred times a day

It picks me up, puts me down

It chews me up, spits me out

Picks me up, puts me down

But I hear the music

I feel the beat

And for a moment

When I'm dancing, I am free

I hear the music

I feel the beat (ahh)

And for a moment

When I'm dancing, I am free, I am free

Ooh, ooh

Is this how it is?

Is this how it's always been?

To exist in the face of suffering and death

And somehow still keep singing

Oh like Christ up on a cross

Who died for us? Who died for what?

Oh, don't you wanna call it off?

But there's nothing else that I know how to do

But to open up my arms and give it all to you

'Cause I hear the music, I feel the beat

And for a moment, when I'm dancing

I am free, I am free

Never One Thing - May Erlewine

How was that? Heart thumping a little? Hands tingling? Body wanting to go for a little run and spin around with your arms spread wide? Great, me too. But before you do that please finish reading this piece.

Now, time for what comes after that first rush of freedom. Because breaking free isn't the end of the story, it's very much just the beginning…

It’s April 2024. I’ve quit my job and I’m travelling in Taiwan to learn about how they have reshaped society using digital deliberative democracy (and, let’s be real, to have a bit of a holiday, eat lots of amazing food and mess around with some of my best friends).

Then it’s May 2024. I’ve been home in London for a week, packed up all my belongings and moved to Brighton to be part of a household that is prioritising living differently in light of the polycrisis. I have zero plans, no friends in Brighton and a wide horizon in front of me. Which initially feels absolutely incredible.

Until it doesn’t anymore.

Because here's the thing about freedom: it's not just about breaking away from what constrains us. It's also about having an unprecedented amount of time to think about what truly matters to us, how we want to show up in the world and what things we were doing just because we never questioned it.

And how do we embrace all the contradictory, messy parts of ourselves that emerge when we look out at that vast ocean of possibility?

When in one way we have all the space in the world ahead of us, but in another way we really don’t because we know that many of the potential paths no longer align with our values or our sense of what makes a good life.

When you’re sat in your little canoe looking out at that exhilarating and terrifying expanse, holding on tight through the rise and fall of the waves, things can get pretty weird in the old noggin.

Who on earth am I? What should I be doing? How do I know what I want rather than what everyone else wants from me?

The next song we’re going to listen to is very special to me because my brother sent it to me the day after I moved to Brighton, describing it as ‘mantra-ish’. And boy oh boy did I take that one to heart.

This song is all about recognising that humans are inherently contradictory creatures. That we can be hard and soft at the same time, that we can feel incredibly low one minute and unbelievably high the next. It’s got me through a year where holding on to my identity has felt like falling through the air grasping at ropes and not knowing which ones will be firm enough to catch me.

This song recognises that we are all mutable all of the time and so is everything and everyone around us.

We contain multitudes and that is the one beautiful constant in this life.

So, headphones on, and either close your eyes or read along and think about how you can accept and integrate all the different parts of yourself into the fullest version of you.

Lyrics

I'm the underbelly, I am the claw

Never one thing no, not one thing at all

I'm a street fighter, I'm a prayer for peace

I'm a holy roller, I'm a honey bee

I am the truth, I am a lie

I am the ground, I am the sky

I am the silence, I am the call

Never one thing no, not one thing at all

I'm the underbelly, I am the claw

Never one thing no, not one thing at all

I'm a street fighter, I'm a prayer for peace

I'm a holy roller, I'm a honey bee

I am hope, I am defeat

I am broken, I am complete

I am the grace, I am the fall

Never one thing no, not one thing at all

I'm the underbelly, I am the claw

Never one thing no, not one thing at all

I'm a street fighter, I'm a prayer for peace

I'm a holy roller, I'm a honey bee

I am the beggar, I am the queen

I am the end, I am the means

I am the hammer, I am the wall

Never one thing no, not one thing at all

I'm the underbelly, I am the claw

Never one thing no, not one thing at all

I'm a street fighter, I'm a prayer for peace

I'm a holy roller, I'm a honey bee

I am a victor, I am the loss

I am a profit, I am the cost

I am the salve, I am the sting

Never, no never, no never one thing

I'm the underbelly, I am the claw

Never one thing no, not one thing at all

I'm a street fighter, I'm a prayer for peace

I'm a holy roller, I'm a honey bee

I am a mother, I am the child

I am the meek, I am the wild

I am the witch, I am the saint

I am alive, never one thing

I'm the underbelly, I am the claw

Never one thing no, not one thing at all

I'm a street fighter, I'm a prayer for peace

I'm a holy roller, I'm a honey bee

I am the lion, I am the swan

I am the bull, I am the fawn

I am a woman, I am the ring

I am my own, never one thing

I'm the underbelly, I am the claw

Never one thing no, not one thing at all

I'm a street fighter, I'm a prayer for peace

I'm a holy roller, I'm a honey bee

Mountain to Move - Nick Mulvey

Can you feel that expansiveness and spaciousness in your body? The permission to be everything at once? Hold onto that feeling, because it's exactly what we need for what comes next.

Because once we've embraced all these parts of ourselves - the sacred and profane, the strong and soft, the fearless and fearful - we're ready to look outward again. But this time, with new eyes.

We’ve also decided we want to get a tattoo of a honey bee. No, just me? Alright then, we’ll move on.

So: we’ve done our breaking free from societal norms and discovered the rebellion that is joy in the face of destruction.

We’ve also looked inward to consider all of the parts of ourselves we don’t often shine a light on, and decided that it’s a wonderful thing to be messy human creatures who are full of contradictions.

Now it’s time to think about what that means for how we connect with ourselves on a deeper level and how that might change our interaction with the world around us.

I’ll be honest, when I first started Unravelling Together a year and a half ago, I had visions of having thousands of subscribers by this point. I’d be being invited onto podcasts, being paid thousands by my adoring fans and I would be externally validated in exactly the way that I was ostensibly saying shouldn’t matter.

But here we are. The universe had different plans for me. It needed me to truly unravel myself first so that I could actually embody what I’ve been evangelising. That what truly matters is the present and the connections and love we share with those around us.

That the only way we’ll ever be able to make the systemic change we need to make is by first turning inwards. By realising that we don’t need more stuff, or a new title or to be endlessly chasing milestones.

As the wonderful Nick Mulvey writes in our next song:

We get lost in comparison

Looking outside of me

I see this world is unraveling

I wonder, who could we be

I’m sure no one else has ever used the word unravelling in this context so I think this was written just for me. Thanks Nick.

This one I love and I want to leave you with because it tells us that our individual and collective healing is deeply intertwined. It tells us to recognise that we’re not special. We’re all human and however much we get trapped in our own heads, what we really need is to be present, to be grateful for what we have and to wake up to how damaging our endless comparisons are, for ourselves and for the planet.

And through each taking on this work for ourselves, we can then come together and move mountains.

I had a very strong visualisation recently, of this year being like climbing a mountain. It took an awful lot of energy to leave the familiar path where others have trod, to cut through the brambles and bracken of unfamiliar territory, and so once I found a safe haven with my new community in Brighton I sat down for a rest.

I’ve been resting a long while now, buffeted by the wind, my old wet weather gear not really suited for this next stage of the climb and my backpack full of limiting beliefs, thought patterns and ways of being that I haven’t been quite ready to let go of.

But I’m finally, finally, feeling like it’s time to lighten the load and remove the things that are no longer serving me. It’s time to put on the new raincoat I’ve been preparing and to step back onto the path.

I’m going to be putting renewed energy into helping others find a new path up the mountain through my other adventure, Uncommon Threads. Because while all of our journeys will be unique, we’re all walking to the same peak where we can live more authentically, sustainably and collectively.

So, headphones back on and this time I want you to think about a few things:

What’s around you now to be grateful for that you haven’t noticed because you’ve been so busy looking ahead?
What do you want to take out of your backpack so that your next steps can be a bit lighter, a bit more free?
In 2025, what metaphorical hiking gear do you need before you’re ready to join those of us who are trying to move the mountain?

And I'm here to help you take those first few steps. It's hard work, I know.

But I promise you this: the views are pretty cool.

Lyrics

Caught up in specialness

I wish you could see

That we are kings of bliss

Begging for misery

We get lost in comparison

Looking outside of me

Now, I see this world is unraveling

I wonder who could we be

Oh, I don't want to see us lose

Any more time

This moment is a mountain to move, yeah-yeah

So move it inside

Wake up now

'Cause Mary Anne is a healer

She had pain on the mind

She said, "Your money's your medicine"

But she's sick all the time

'Cause you got lost in comparison

Always, pretending you knew

When everything you were looking for

Was already looking at you

Oh, I don't want to see us lose

Any more time

This moment is a mountain to move

So move it inside

And wake up now (oh, I've been thinkin' about it)

Wake up now (oh, I've been thinkin' about it)

Give it to me, realness

Give it to me, stillness

Give me some forgiveness

Give it to me, wholeness

'Cause I was lost in comparison

Always, pretending I knew

But everything I was looking for

I was looking through, ohh

Wake up now (oh, I've been thinkin' about it)

Wake up now

We've got a Mountain to Move

Or, reflections on a 31st birthday

Something to be proud of

Discussion about this post