Attempts at Optimism by Emma Vivian

Attempts at Optimism by Emma Vivian

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Attempts at Optimism by Emma Vivian
Attempts at Optimism by Emma Vivian
Tools for the optimist-ish: June edition

Tools for the optimist-ish: June edition

This month is sponsored by flowers. Plus, I hiked a section of the South West Coast Path!

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Emma Vivian
Jun 27, 2025
∙ Paid
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Attempts at Optimism by Emma Vivian
Attempts at Optimism by Emma Vivian
Tools for the optimist-ish: June edition
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Hi friend,

Welcome to Tools for the Optimist-ish, where I round up some of my favourite things from the past month. This series goes out on the last Friday of each month and is just for paid subscribers. (Don’t worry—my weekly Sunday posts are still free and always will be!)

June, for me, was wildflowers and whimsy. Spontaneous adventures. English summer in full bloom. I reunited with loved ones, marvelled at my body’s resilience post-cancer, and finally fulfilled a dream: hiking part of the South West Coast Path.

I hope something on this list of little delights brings a bit of joy to your day.

Emma xx

A moment I want to remember

Nearly five years after reading The Salt Path, I finally walked a section of the South West Coast Path in England. When I first read Raynor Winn’s memoir, I was in the thick of cancer treatment—depressed, exhausted, and dreaming of wild cliffs and open skies.

I longed to be lost in nature. To reclaim what cancer had stolen from me. And on a blustery Sunday in early June, I walked almost 8 miles on the path. The cliffs were steep, and the weather mercurial. With so many ups and downs, it wasn’t long before I was breathless, but still, I didn’t take a single step for granted. I delighted in the calls of the birds and the fresh views found around every corner.

I felt so darn grateful to be alive. And so lucky to be a visitor to this exquisite coastal path.

Photo taken from the path with my Nikon. June, 2025.

A reminder that it’s OK to be fragile

While walking on the path, I was amazed by the abundance of wildflowers. They were everywhere: nestled between the rocks, facing bravely out to the sea, or hidden humbly in valleys. And though they came in all different shapes and colours, I was amazed by how delicate they appeared—tiny, fragile little things, with pinhead petals and wisps of foliage.

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