Bec Wild - Women's Self Mastery Coach (2025)

12/08/2025

When you feel truly seen by a book.

You know that heart opening and heart breaking moment when you finish a book that you know has just changed your life?

That just happened to me.

Today I finished Gina Chick’s ‘We are the stars’ and I am different now. I walked with her on her journey through a bold and colourful and tragic life full of poetic story telling and deep grief and I am changed. The way she wrote spoke directly to my soul.

She gave words to things I didn’t yet have words for and has opened doorways that I yearn to walk through. She also opened doorways I hope never to walk through.

During the most devastating parts of her story the thought that kept coming to mind was, ‘There but for the grace of God goes I’. At any moment, that could be me. At any moment the illusion of safety and security I have woven around myself could be pulled from under my feet. Would I be ready? Of course not. No one would be. But could I trust the process enough to just hold on through anything? To surrender to the truth of what is and let myself be tumbled by the wild floodwaters of life knowing that drowning doesn’t have to be the final outcome?

I feel like I’ve been on a retreat of deep unearthing and delving into the darkest corners and now I need time to integrate.

To bring more wildness. To allow more time communing with the vast and immense emptiness of space and time and shadows in the dark of night and the intense perfection of the tiniest wildflower on a backdrop of dazzling sunshine and peace. To slow my mind in the presence and reverence of my divine children, to really see the sparkle in their eyes, to hear the music of their voices, to feel the warmth of their little bodies in my embrace, my only real and direct legacy on this earthly plane.

Read it and tell me how you go. Listen to it actually, she reads it like poetry.

And now I have to find another book to read! I don't know how to top that one.

08/08/2025

The other night we were sitting outside and had some music on. The little girls wanted to do a dance performance for us.

They kind of fumbled their way through at the start then Summer started just moving and dancing and twirling and jumping and it was one of the most magical things I've ever seen.

This little girl of mine really moving just the way her body wanted to. I had tears in my eyes as I watched her, this sparkling little fairy girl.

She was so happy, so full of genuine joy and I suddenly realised, this was medicine for her.

And then I remembered it's actually medicine for all of us. Not dancing necessarily but instinctive movement. Allowing our bodies to move in ways they need to to keep the energy moving, not stuck.

The wisdom of children never ceases to delight me and humble me.

And the way they can bring joy and elicit pure presence simply by being makes my tears flow like rivers.

04/08/2025

Public shout out to this fabulous woman who single-handedly took 6 of our kids camping on the weekend to the folk festival.

You're amazing.

Blended families are a lot of work. Being a step parent is a lot of work. But I think we're onto something. It's like a mini village village within our home. And we all know it takes a village to do anything in life really.

Today we were discussing what elder life will look like, God willing, and we both narrowed down to the same simple dream. A comfy chair, a cup of tea and a book shelf full of good books.

Life is so complicated and yet so simple.

Thank you my love for everything you do and everything you are. I am so lucky!

03/08/2025

I was sitting here at my computer learning about eye anatomy, visual fields, cones and rods, cranial nerves, etc... and the roosters start going bezerk so I look out and there’s a bird of prey perched on the chook yard fence eyeing off the chicks so I run outside to scare it off then run back to take off my ugg boots (it was 24 degrees C this morning…), go back out then run back again to put the cocktail on my shoulder inside in case it gets swooped by the bird then run back out again but I’m too late. I see a little flash of a black chick running, a swoop, a billow of dust then off goes the bird with the chick.

I shut them all in to their respective houses (the Quack Shack and the Egg Hut, the Silkie Lodge is already enclosed) and make sure they’ve got food and water inside.

Then I notice the watering that needs doing so get the sprinklers going on the veggie patches then move the other hoses so more baby trees get some water.

The sun is just the right, satisfying and life affirming level of hot. I feel it nourish my skin, my eyeballs and my soul. The grass crackles underfoot. We’re a few months into the dry season so whatever isn’t intentionally watered is dead and dry, except where there seem to be water leaks…we need to sort that out.

I put a few palm fronds on the fire pit, the kids can light it up later.

By the time I’ve done all that I go back around to the hoses and move them all again.

I look around at our place, the patch of Larrakia country we are stewarding for this chapter of life and feel grateful.

Life is so complicated and yet, so simple.

I love the tiny moments, the little split seconds where I realise how simple it really is. It’s usually when I’m barefoot outside tending to the earth or out camping in the bush with nowhere to be and nothing to do.

Now back inside to the computer and eyes and thinking.

The contrast is disorienting and its hard to refocus.

I’m on a bit of a mission to find a way to combine my love of the complicated and the simple.

To understand the huge avalanches of grief and anxiety and depression and the simple dewdrops of peace and gratitude.

The contrasts are both jarring and magnificent.

02/08/2025

Endings

I just finished the last pod meeting for the current cohort of Matribirth Mentor Institute with Freebirth Society. And I feel inspired, sad, heavy, light and everything in between.

Endings like this one are so weird. I feel like it’s another thing we don’t do well, endings. How to best honour the feeling of loss that comes with an ending? How to best embody the normal transitions that naturally occur all the time in life?

The ending of a job or course, moving house, getting home from work on Friday afternoon, finishing the school holidays.

What are the ways we can be intentional and grounded in honouring the transition and telling our body that change has happened, it’s time to shift our energy and it’s ok?

I think it’s an individual thing but common themes always pop up - dancing, getting bare skin on the earth, breathing deeply, pausing to really look at what is in front of our eyes.

And, at the same time, recognising that with every ending is a beginning. A beginning of the next chapter, whatever that is.

It’s like the lungs of life are always inhaling and exhaling, sometimes in a predictable rhythm, sometimes not, and we can either move with that flow or we can resist against it.

Have you heard this saying?

‘When you resist reality, you always lose.’

I guess the only way is to work *with* the inhale and exhale of life and incorporate little rhythms and rituals into that flow to make floating on the ever changing tide feel easier.

What’s your favourite way to shift your energy at a transition?

Do you need support around a big transition that is happening in your life right now? Message me x

01/08/2025

That moment as a mother when you realise you'll be home alone for a whole night and most of both days on either side of it.

First feeling, spoken straight from a frazzled nervous system: YAAAAAAY! 🥳🤩😮‍💨

Second feeling, spoken straight from the anxious mother part: Oh no, I feel so bad, I should be going too, it feels so indulgent to have time all by myself, what if something happens? I won't be there! 🫣😢😬

Third feeling, spoken from the rational part that keeps me in line: It's ok, the kids will have a great time, they'll be so well looked after by Courtenay and you need the rest and study time. 🤓😎

Feeling more than ready for some silence, rest and solid study. And some time to just sit with life and catch up a bit. Quietly.

Wishing all the amazing mums out there (that's all mums) peace, connection and a moment to exhale this weekend.

Xx

01/08/2025

The Big Thing happens.

The Earth cracks open, molten lava explodes into our hearts and minds and time stops. If we have a caring and connected community, we’re surrounded and held.

For a while.

Then people start moving on. Back to their old patterns, habits, addictions, distractions, worries.

But if you’re at the centre of The Big Thing, life does not go on. You are forever changed, broken, burned. You are witnessing the mess of your shattered heart, trying to make some sense of what has just happened. Maybe it makes no sense at all.

But those around you are already forgetting. The intensity is already fading. We get so absorbed in our own small worlds and small problems that our vision once again becomes myopic.

There are Big Things going on everywhere in the world every day. How do we not get overwhelmed by the tragedy and grief that is everywhere? Maybe the myopic vision is actually a protective mechanism to keep us from being completely overwhelmed by it all.

But who are we to avert our gaze? So privileged in our ability to just focus on something else, to choose not to think about The Big Thing for a while. It feels shameful, privileged, insulting almost.

Can we take care of ourselves, our children, our gardens, our chickens, our worries while still taking time to check in with the person in the middle of The Big Thing?

Of course we can. And we must. That’s how we take care of our community of individuals and as a living entity of its own.

I’m seeing more and more that grief really is the initiation into life. Grief comes for everyone. And when it does we can only hope and trust that when we will fall into the dark abyss, our community will be there to catch us with strong and loving arms. When grief comes for us we will be broken, shattered, decimated. But we will be held.

So let’s reach out to those people we know are inside the volcanic eruption of the heart, The Big Thing. Let’s let them know we’re here and we see them.

Because it’s what we do for people we love, and because it's possible that one day they’ll be holding us too.

(This is Summer learning about grief in a child sized way - nursing an injured chick)

26/07/2025

White people suck at grief

I always knew we were an emotionally constipated lot in this culture (thanks The Queen of Confidence for the term) but at the ceremony on Thursday evening, honouring the life of little Lua, I realised just how much.

A Larrakia woman graciously offered healing ceremonies to the family and everyone present - one of them was crying out loud together, something her people have been doing for tens of thousands of years to properly honour and process loss and grief.

Now, I was already sobbing, I had been on and off for days since the death of this little fairy, but to actually cry out loud, really wail, with everyone around me? I couldn’t do it. I could not make myself make those sounds. I was ashamed. How could my learned emotional suppression outweigh my ability to express and honour the grief inside me and around me?

In that moment I realised how jammed up my emotional river was. Sure I feel stuff on the inside, I feel a lot and I cry a lot, but I cry silent tears. A lot of silent tears. To really let that grief move through my body in a way that produces movement and sound that is truly cathartic and truly healing? I’m not there.

In that moment I felt frustration and shame for the, frankly, pathetic ways people in this culture I’m in express emotion. The way we’re taught as children not to cry, not to scream, not to yell, not to laugh too loud, not to squeal with joy - don’t even sigh too loudly.

Which shows that children have got some serious wisdom to share. They do all of those things and don’t give a damn who’s watching. But then we learn to bottle it up, to be reasonable and moderate and socially acceptable.

Well f*ck that.

When there is grief, we need to feel it, we need to feel it with our whole bodies and spirits and let it move through in whatever messy way it needs to. I don’t think grief ever leaves, it just changes. But the piles upon piles of emotional suppression we have stored up in our bodies? That, we can do something about.

I’m still figuring it out (as usual) but I wanted to share this with you to see if you can resonate with what I’ve been feeling about it. Maybe this is something we can work on together.

21/07/2025

One of those great shocks in life.

A beautiful mother in our community has lost her sweet daughter and I am beyond devastated. It's hard to put words to the unthinkable grief a mother must experience when she loses her child. It's shocking and heart shattering enough for me, on the side lines, let alone her.

It's one of those things that makes you question everything. And makes you hold your own babies even closer. The survivor guilt is real too. How is it that I get to cuddle each of babies today and this beautiful mother does not? She will never again hold her littlest love.

How long do we have left together? We can never know that. The not knowing, if focussed in on, feels incredibly harrowing and anxiety provoking. I can feel the anxiety creeping in.

I have just finished reading a book about 'what makes life worth living even in the face of death' and am now reading another about ageing and death and it feels like it's lesson after lesson being layered one on top of the next.

The second book talked about research explaining that people who know for a fact their time is limited (elderly and terminally ill) are more present in the moment, more attentive to loved ones and less focussed on the future. Conversely, those of us who have no reason to believe our time will be up any time soon are less present in the moment, less attentive to loved ones and more focussed on the future.

How can we hold both? How can we both plan for and dream about the future and seek new experiences *and* be present in the moment and focused on our loved ones?

I'm working hard to keep the big picture in focus while also allowing space for grief.

And I'm holding this mother in my heart knowing that her life has changed forever. Nothing will ever be the same.

17/07/2025

This is how excited I am to be waiting at the dentist to have some work done on three of my teeth.

This is what it looks like for me to take responsibility for my dental health (dental problems). It's not spending hours researching all the alternative possibilities for preventing and healing cavities, though I also do that. It is finding people who know what they're doing, doing my research and due diligence on the options available, deciding on a course of action and then trusting the people who are helping me.

I have chosen what procedures I'm having done knowing the risks, benefits and alternatives. I am taking responsibility for the whole process and that includes delegating some of the tasks and engaging in the system where I choose to.

I think 'taking responsibility for ourselves' can include engaging with the system where needed or wanted. It doesn't have to mean completely disengaging or always seeing 'the system' as the enemy.

When I can settle into that, I actually relax, because I can take responsibility for myself while still outsourcing some things.

Doesn't mean I'm happy about it 😆 but I am ok with it and I will be so happy to have these holes sorted out!

15/07/2025

I might be studying mainstream medicine but I subtly (and not so subtly...) infiltrate the scene with witchiness where I can. We have a self selected 'personal and professional development' elective to do and I have chosen to create a presentation on the dark history of medicine, from the perspective of both women healers and women patients.

This is me doing some research for it.

This is me bringing the diverse parts of me together to a point where it actually makes sense.

Every day I think about my life and where I'm heading, always checking in with my North Star: am I parenting the way I want to be? Am I the partner I want to be? Is my health the way I want it to be? Am I taking care of my mental and spiritual health the way I want to be? Am I occupying my time the way I want to? Am I creating abundance for my family the way I want to? And so many other questions.

It's not always perfect (actually it's never perfect, 'perfect' is not a helpful concept) and I don't always get it right but I'm always trying and always reflecting. The excavation continues.

Maybe I'll record my presentation and share it.

05/07/2025

One of those little wholesome AF moments at Wild Wood. Cucumbers, a zucchini and some eggs (duck and chook). Also lemongrass and ginger for the curry mum is currently making.

The other one would have been the homemade grass fed chicken liver pate except it was accidentally left in the blender and ended up covered in flies and maggots. I decided not to include a photo of that.

Keeping it real 🫠

Bec Wild - Women's Self Mastery Coach

12/08/2025

08/08/2025

04/08/2025

03/08/2025

02/08/2025

01/08/2025

01/08/2025

26/07/2025

21/07/2025

17/07/2025

15/07/2025

05/07/2025

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