My Journey

I have been reflecting on my journey. How I came to this life - vegan, rescuing animals, building a sanctuary. I don't think I chose it so much as it slowly called me home.

It wasn't a sudden awakening. It was thousands of quiet moments. A dog's trusting eyes. The fear of an animal on the way to slaughter. The silence of a forest. The grief of watching the natural world disappear. Little by little, my heart became too awake to look away.

I share my life with dogs and especially Wolfhounds. They have taught me something profound. I always say they are people in a dog suit. Ancient souls wrapped in fur. They don't simply look at you - they look through you. They ask for nothing but presence, honesty, and love.

Animals have become my greatest teachers. They don't live in the stories we humans tell ourselves. They don't strive to conquer, possess, or become more than they are. They simply are. Completely present. Completely authentic.

Years ago, I read Ishmael by Daniel Quinn. The movie “Instinct” with Anthony Hopkins was inspired by it. It shifted something deep within me. The book asks us to question the story humanity has built its civilisation upon - the belief that the Earth belongs to us, that we are separate from nature, that our purpose is to dominate, consume, and endlessly take. It suggests that this isn't an inevitable truth, but merely one story among many. A story we've mistaken for destiny. That idea never left me.

I realised I no longer wanted to be a "taker” but rather be a “leaver”.

I wanted to become a giver.

To rescue rather than exploit.

To protect rather than consume.

To offer sanctuary instead of suffering.

So now I rescue animals from slaughter and abuse, giving them whatever peace, safety, and love I can. It is a life of self-sacrifice, and paradoxically, it has made me feel more whole than anything else ever has. It is hard. It is heartbreaking. It is muddy, expensive, exhausting, and beautifully chaotic. Yet I have never felt more alive.

We are living through the sixth mass extinction. We are losing species, forests, oceans, and ancient wisdom at a pace almost beyond comprehension. Sometimes the weight of that reality feels unbearable. But despair changes nothing. Compassion does.

Every life matters.

Every creature matters.

Every act of kindness ripples further than we can ever know.

My own spirituality has become less about religion and more about remembering. Raised Catholic, my path has since woven together my Celtic roots, Pagan traditions, Norse ancestry, and the quiet wisdom of Buddhism. Nature became my temple long ago.

There's a beautiful Zen sentiment that reminds us the practice isn't about thinking - it's about being awake.

Awake to the suffering around us.

Awake to beauty.

Awake to impermanence.

Awake to our interconnectedness with every living being.

Perhaps that's all any of us are really searching for.

Not more knowledge.

More awareness.

To remember that we are not separate from this living Earth - we are one small expression of it. The wolfhound, the raven, the old gum tree, the frightened calf, the river, the stars, and ourselves are all threads in the same tapestry.

My sanctuary isn't simply a place where animals find refuge.

It's where I found mine.

And every day, these beautiful souls continue to teach me the same lesson:

Take less.

Love more.

Stay awake.

I love this photo of my mum below with the animals. She loved Buddhism, nature and the animals too.

The photo to the right is beautiful Chevy at the centre of my stone circle.