Sunset Seeker
Finding home at Cartrefle
If you’ve just discovered my Substack or have been a regular free subscriber to my newsletter ‘with ease’ thanks for taking the time to connect. I dearly hope this essay resonates and if you find some value in my writing please consider becoming a paid subscriber. Thank you in advance, it really does mean the world to me.
Dear friend
How are you feeling today? I hope you’ve enjoyed the summer solstice. The sunsets where I’m staying this week have been unreal. Which I’ve loved, because I’m quite the sunset seeker. But here’s the thing, I don’t chase them across different horizons or tick them off some travel bucket list (to be fair, I barely leave Wales), I seek my sunsets from one sacred spot: a beach house here in west Wales that has somehow woven itself into the very fabric of who I am.
The name of this beach house is “Cartrefle”. Even the name gives me goosebumps. When you translate it from Welsh, it means “home” and isn’t that just perfect? Because that’s exactly what this place has become for me, though I don’t own a single brick of it.
I’ve lived in over thirty houses in my lifetime. Thirty! Sometimes I have to pause and let that fact sink in for a moment. Flats, terraces, semis, rentals, family homes - I’ve unpacked a lot of boxes and hung pictures on more walls than most people see in a lifetime. Yet the majority of them, have never felt like home. Not until Cartrefle came into my life.
I always wonder how did this grand beach house chose me? Because that’s how it feels, like it chose me rather than the other way around. It was rather serendipitous, as I first came here back in 2017 when I was invited to use the beach house as a venue for my Digital Detox retreats. Now it’s become much more than a retreat abode, it’s like a home I’ve adopted. I’m one lucky gal, as I get the opportunity to house sit it when the owners aren’t in residence.
Something shifted the moment I turned the key for the first time. The house seemed to exhale, welcoming me in. The floorboards creaked a greeting. The large Victorian windows framed the sea like they were showing off just for me.
There is certainly something magnetic about this beach house that I can’t quite put into words. Maybe it’s the way the light moves through the rooms throughout the day, or how the sound of the waves became my heartbeat for a while. Maybe it’s simpler than that, maybe some places just fit your soul like a glove, and you know you’re meant to be there.
And the sunsets. The Cartrefle sunsets are something else. Each evening, I find myself drawn to the same spot, watching the sky transform into impossible shades of amber and rose, the sea reflecting it all back like a mirror made of liquid gold. These aren’t just sunsets I’m witnessing, they’re daily reminders of why I belong here, why this house holds me so completely.
But here’s what keeps me awake some nights: will I ever be able to let go of this place? This house that isn’t mine but feels more like home than anywhere I’ve ever owned? The thought of leaving Cartrefle one day feels like contemplating cutting off a limb. I’m tethered to this place in ways I never expected, connected by invisible threads that grow stronger with each sunset, each storm weathered, each quiet morning with my cup of coffee, my Ridgebacks and the endless sea.
As I sit here writing this short essay from Cartrefle, I wonder if you’ve ever felt this way about a place? Have you ever found somewhere that just fits, somewhere that makes you understand what “home” really means? I’d love to know - because this feeling, this deep-rooted connection to a place that chose you, feels too profound to experience alone.
Until the next time I visit, I’ll keep seeking my sunsets from Cartrefle, my Welsh homestead by the sea, wondering if some connections are simply meant to last forever.
And just in case you’re in the journalling mood, please help yourself to the following prompts, as they sure have helped me channel my emotions this week, and my cravings for a sense of belonging…
Write about all the places you’ve lived or spent significant time. For each one, note how it made you feel. Good luck if you’v lived in more than thirty houses ;)
Describe a moment when you knew you belonged somewhere, where was it and how did it make you feel?
Reflect on the differences between the homes you were given (childhood homes, family properties) and the homes you’ve chosen. What patterns do you notice? What does “home” mean to you beyond those four walls and a roof?
Write about a place you’re afraid of losing. What would it mean to love it fully while accepting that nothing is permanent.
Describe the rituals that make a space feel sacred to you - maybe it’s your local sunset, your morning coffee routine, or the way you arrange your books. How do these small acts transform a physical space into an emotional sanctuary?
Oh and if you’re in the reading mood, I highly recommend these three books which are set by the coast. They are some of my all time favourites, and if you don’t live near the sea, they will totally transport you there within the first few pages.
Slanting Towards The Sea by Lidija Hilje
Lucy By the Sea by Elizabeth Strout
A Year By The Sea by Joan Anderson
Until the next time,
Take care and stay safe xx
If you’d like more information about the retreats and workshops I’m hosting this year and in 2026, or you’d like to join the waiting list, please don’t hesitate to email me at hello@easeretreats.com
Every Thursday at 1pm via Zoom - “Journal with Ease Club” with Tanya Lynch
25th June 2025 - “Rage on a Page” Online Journalling Series with Tanya Lynch
27th June 2025 - “Drive Through Journalling by the Sea” with Tanya Lynch
26th September 2025 - “Blueprint Your Season” Day Retreat with Tommy Ludgate
2nd - 5th October 2025 - “Rest + Read” Weekend Retreat with Lucy Pearson
17th - 20th October 2025 - “Digital Detox” Weekend Retreat with Tanya Lynch
April 2026 - "Substack with Ease" Day Retreat with Claire Venus
May 2026 - “Creative Unblocking” Weekend Retreat with Emma Gannon
12th June 2026 - “Finding Your Voice” Day Retreat with Laura Pashby
PS. Bring your unfinished stories.
Bring your wild dreams.
Bring yourself.
Because here ‘with ease’, you are always welcome.
Marvellous. I’ve just finished The Safekeep, which ranks along the Salt Path as deep explorations of what makes a place feel like home, and how it feels when it might (or is) taken from you. I live about as far from the sea as Britain can manage (the West Midlands) so I made the most of a week in Southampton to dip my toes in the beach on the Isle of Wight and bought several books to feed my desire for the sea till our family holiday next month. The Blue Machine, Trelawney’s Cornwall and Undercurrent should do it! (And a book about the weather too, because I am British and I need something to talk about: “In All Weathers”)
I could sense the house as you walk in so clearly from your words!