Embracing the ebbs and flows

Reflections on energy, nature, and writing from Corsica

Last week, my inner critic was relentless. "Not even a month on Substack, and you're already inconsistent. You call yourself a writer? What a joke!"

Whether it was my cycle, the full moon, the seasonal shift or a mix of these, I spent most of the week in a funk, unable to write anything I felt worth sharing. A real bummer, just two weeks after launching Sip of Corsica.

But even in this slump, I stayed engaged on the platform. I attended last Thursday a soulful content planning workshop with

Claire Venus (she/her) ✨

and

Aimée Francis

through

Sparkle on Substack

. It was exactly what I needed. Aimée’s words brought me back to my “why.” They reminded me that I started this Substack for the sheer joy of writing and to create a space that feels like a personal journal, a window into my world where I can write whatever I want without stressing about SEO, strategy or the algorithm. A place where I can just be authentically me.

So why rush forward when everything in me was asking to slow down?

Over the past few months, I’ve learned a lot about myself, including that I’m a Projector in Human Design — an emotional one, at that. If you’re familiar with Human Design, you’ll know Projectors thrive not by forcing or hustling, but by embracing rest and moving with the ebbs and flows of their energy. It’s a concept I’m still learning to integrate, but once again, Corsica has been my greatest teacher.

This summer, during a gentle scenic hike on the Mare e Monti trail — just a few miles from Marignana, my partner’s family village — I came across a stone inscribed with a simple but powerful question: Pouvons-nous écouter, sentir, écouter encore un peu? (“Can we listen, smell, listen a bit more?”).

That message felt like it was meant for me — a gentle invitation to slow down and soak in the beauty of the moment.

The island itself is a perfect reflection of natural rhythms. The mountains rise and fall, rivers rush and pause, and the Mediterranean waves ebb and flow. Nature doesn’t force itself into a constant state of productivity, and neither should we. Immersed in Corsica’s rugged beauty, I’m learning to honor my own cycles — not as a flaw or failure, but as a vital part of who I am.

So while last week wasn’t a productive one, it was still meaningful. By slowing down, reconnecting with my “why,” and embracing the quiet, I’ve taken a step toward writing from a place of joy, not pressure. And isn’t that the point?

To share a glimpse of Corsica’s rugged beauty with you, I’ve added to this article some personal pictures taken over the years in the western part of the island, one of my happy places in Corsica.

Marignana, when the golden hour approaches and starts to paint in pink hues the mountains and the old houses of the village.

What about you? Is there a happy place you like to go to when you need to rest and recharge?

If you’re new to Sip of Corsica, first of all, welcome or as we say in Corsica “Benvenuti” and thank you for being here! If you want to learn a bit more about my journey, I invite to check out the post below.

A prestu,

Maïlys