Author Archives: Louise Gallagher

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About Louise Gallagher

I believe in wonder. I believe we are all magnificent beings of divine beauty. I believe we can make a difference in this world, through every act, word, thought. I believe we create ripples with everything we do and say and want to inspire everyone to use their ripple to create a better world for everyone. I'm grateful you're here.

Claiming my Birthright. 72 My Way!

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My birthday photo today. 72 and I get to choose to not wear make-up!

Another year around the sun, and the emotions are a chaotic, beautiful mess. Joy and weariness co-exist. That’s the whole point, isn’t it? Today, I claim my birthright: unadulterated self-celebration.

Birthdays are a moment of necessary, guilt-free narcissism. We get to hit pause and declare: This is all about me.

But this year’s number – 72 – is different. Seventy-one was the year I finally got clear. I stopped tiptoeing around other people’s visions for my life and stepped fully into my own power. I shed the fear of upsetting someone else’s apple cart and chose to claim ‘the more’ I truly want.

It was a challenging year. We weathered my husband’s health storms, navigating travel with his oxygen and wheelchairs. Yet, I found myself more confident than ever, able to right my own boat in any sea. It was a year of profound firsts: traveling to Europe, (the continent where I spent most of my formative years) with my youngest daughter, discovering Malta (and Maltese hospitality! wow!), and even living on an island.

More than any of those adventures, this past year I finally put down the metaphorical knife I used to fend off intruders to my personal space. I don’t need defense; I need declaration. I claimed my space. Unequivocally.

Here’s to aging, not worrying about whether it’s “graceful” or “fierce.”

Here’s to claiming the right to do it however I damn well please.

Make Time for the Sacred: The Technology Battle is Over (and I Won)

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There’s only one way to spell ‘frustration,’ but I’ve invented a thousand ways to express it.

For the past week, As I’ve been creating my Make Time for the Sacred Winter Solstice Reflections. I’ve been fighting an epic, soul-crushing war against my laptop.

FRUSTRATION doesn’t cover it. That word is too polite. I was operating on a level of digital rage that involved a primal urge to launch my computer into the Pacific Ocean, or at least see what happened if I put the whole thing in the microwave.

(And yes, I know, it’s not the laptop’s fault. User error is a pandemic whenever I dive into new software. We are all just primates trying to manage a universe of wires.)

But here’s the brutal truth about perseverance: It works.

I was determined to get this course online before Advent started. I missed that deadline by four days and approximately 70 hours of lost sleep, but I PERSEVERED. The kinks are gone, the demons are exorcised, and the tech finally listens.

My course is officially ready.

The Invitation (Where You Come In)

Humans are fascinating creatures: we create complex tools, and then we struggle to use them. This Solstice reflection is a necessary pause from that struggle.

The Make Time for the Sacred Reflections is a beautiful, FREE way to prepare your heart for the return of the light.

Here is exactly what you get when you sign up:

  • Four Weekly Reflections: Delivered right to your inbox, running from now until the Epiphany on January 6th.
  • Flexible Access: Each week includes both a written option (to read and journal) and an audio option (for listening on the go).
  • A Sacred Pause: A simple, guided way to reconnect and reflect during the most chaotic season of the year.
  • And Bonus content — 4 questions to deepen your experience to prompt journalling should you choose.
  • A weekly meditation posted every Friday for your to savour over the weekend and into the following week.

This free gift ends January 6th. Release the procrastination. Get your pause now.

The Love That Never Dies – For Jackie

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It is two years since my sister, Jackie, took her last breath.

I still catch myself wanting to reach for my phone and call her.

I still find myself wishing I could tell her about the latest little quirk of life that made me laugh, or to simply hear her voice telling me to slow down. Life isn’t a race.

Yet, though I can’t, I know, the love that she shared so freely, is still flowing all around and in me.

I am so blessed.

The Love That Never Dies
by Louise Gallagher

When does grief die, 
and quietly slip 
into missing 
the presence 
that vanished in one last breath?

When does each breath 
you take 
stop holding 
the sharp tang of a loss
you cannot replace?

When does the pain 
of reaching out 
to a number, disconnected
begin to ease 
into remembering the voice 
you can never hear again?

Perhaps, remembering 
is their love 
walking hand in hand, 
carrying you through the grief 
to the Love that never dies.


The Weary Carry (Month 2: Day 23 of Dear Me, I Love You.”

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We all have defining memories, those perfect moments where the world felt simplified and safe. Perhaps it’s a quiet evening where the fire burned low, or a moment when a lover said, “You and me against the world.” For a long time, I held a moment trapped in memory to preserve the feeling of simplicity and safety the tent we built out of sheets provided against the harsh reality of life outside our bubble. To release that memory felt like a betrayal of what, I once thought was ever-lasting love, but was not strong enough to withstand the buffeting and pummeling of the winds of life.

I carried that memory for many seasons, long after the snow stopped and melted. My promise to forever carry it in my heart grew heavier and heavier; a physical weight holding me tethered to a past and a relationship that had died, not through death, but through our own human frailties. We confuse endurance with love, and mistake exhaustion for failure to thrive.

Today’s Month 2: Day 23 poem of Dear Me, I Love You, my year-long commitment to write a love poem a day, is about the moment of necessary surrender. It’s about letting go of the burden of the past so that we can finally be caught by something greater than our thoughts. The Weary Carry is the realization that when you set down the burden of the past, there is space to hear Love whispering, “Carry me. I will never leave you.”

The Weary Carry
by Louise Gallagher

We built a tent out of the sheets 
and lay naked under its domed protection, 
fingers and toes touching. 
The fire burned low while outside, 
snow fell into the silent night, 
tucking itself into memory.

“You and me against the world,” you said. 
I held my hand against your chest 
where your heart kept quiet time with mine. 
“No matter what,” I said, “I carry you here.”

The snow stopped, 
the fire dimmed, 
and time passed. 
Springs came 
and passed away 
into summers, 
then autumns, 
and winters again.

I carried the memory for many seasons,
 until my own heart grew weary 
of remembering the weight
of all that was lost
when I believed love had died.

Free of the burden of remembering
lightened of the past,
Love caught me and whispered, 
“Carry me. I will never leave you.”

1. She Proved Them Wrong

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“They said it couldn’t be done. She proved them wrong.”

Throughout history, women have had to fight for a seat at the table — the one where the so-called “grown-ups” sit. Our intellect has been doubted. Our endurance questioned. Our creativity dismissed. Our capacity to lead, solve, build, and heal has been scrutinized at every turn.

And yet, time and time again, we have proven them wrong.

We’ve claimed our place at every table. We’ve shown that our ability to innovate, to nurture, to cure, to create, and to carry the world forward is not just equal — it is essential.

But the work isn’t done.

There are still wrongs to right. Still systems to challenge. Still boxes to break down, new paths to build, and mountains to climb.

It’s time for women to set their own tables — to build new spaces, not as monuments to status or power, but as places of inclusion, dignity, and belonging. Spaces where all are welcome, all are respected, and all are reminded: you are worthy, simply because you are

The She Dares Rebellion Series

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In 2017, a wave of discord and division following the U.S. election sparked a profound necessity for protest within me.

This resulted in my creating a series of 82 feminist-based protest paintings. It is my visual rebellion against what I felt was happening globally.

The message is clear: They said it couldn’t be done, She proved them wrong.

As women, we must keep our voices strong, stand united, and support one another in retaining the hard-won victories across the broad spectrum of issues that have historically left us feeling undervalued, diminished, or like second-class citizens or possessions. And, a reminder that we must continue to fight for the rights of women the world over to have agency over their own bodies, minds and lives.

This series, The She Dares Rebellion Paintings, is my challenge, my defiance, and a rallying cry to dare boldly in the face of regression. It is a testament to the powerful, rebellious agency of women—then, now, and always.

Over the next months, I shall be sharing paintings from the series as my call for solidarity and courage in the face of oppression. I hope you join in.

Lover, Partner, Caregiver: Balancing Life Now With Life Imagined

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A photo of two friends, a husband and wife, hugging, waist-deep in the Mediterranean sea, flits across my social media page.

My mind immediately trips me up, spitting me out of contentment with the speed of a child emptying a bowl of mushed peas onto the floor. “C.C. and you will never do that again,” the harsh, woebegone critic hisses. I remind him he’s not welcome here, but the critic pays no heed. His niggling at my peace is relentless.

C.C. is my husband. His health has been severely compromised by COPD and a year of on-again, off-again pneumonia. With each passing day, the list of ‘Things we’ll never do together again’ grows.

This struggle, watching his health decline while my attitude eroded, is why Dear Me, I Love You, was born. I saw a harshness creeping into my voice and a lack of care: who cares if the soup is slopping onto the tray? He should be thankful I serve him at all! That negativity required a fast attitude adjustment.

Whether life is getting me down or lifting me up, writing these poems grounds me in the moment. Like the automatic joy of children’s laughter, writing urges me to stop peering into the darkness and look up. I’m learning that the true challenge isn’t a lack of Love — Love flows, always, everywhere. The challenge is my attitude.

Life Now, Life Imagined
by Louise Gallagher

I struggle some days
to balance
life now
with life imagined.

How two words
juxtaposed
jammed together
have the power
to redefine me.

I struggle to contain
the roles I inhabit
Lover,
friend,
partner,
co-conspirator
and in all of it, that word.
Caregiver.

The heavier the struggle
the greater the need
to retreat
and find solace
in the one place
that soothes 
my confusion
my fear
my anger.

Love.
No matter how
battered and torn
my heart
is all I have
to lean into.

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The Petulant Critic and the Mona Lisa Smile

Month 2 – Day 9: The challenge of the caregiver: How to find yourself, and choose love, when the voice of fear keeps asking, “Where did you go?”

She Dares by Louise Gallagher

Oct 10, 2025

4:00 am. My mind drifts into wakefulness, still shaking off a disturbing dream.

In it, I am walking a path across a field. A snake appears on the trail. Mouth spilling letters like jelly beans, he spies me and slithers away. The scattered letters dance a frenzied jig, then fall in scattered sequence into a question I desperately try not want read: “Where did you go?”

Angry, I rush forward to kick their accusatory presence away, but a woman appears on the trail. Her smile, as enigmatic as a Mona Lisa, is her only response. She holds out her hands, and the letters leap up to form a radiant diamond necklace around her neck.

What the feck?

This dream crystallizes the biggest challenge of my life as a full-time caregiver: To not lose myself in the midst of caring for another. Somewhere in the daily angst and confusion of watching the man I love lose ground to this almost year-long pneumonia that has complicated his COPD even further, I have lost ground against anger, regret, and fear. My disgruntled state of mind has disrupted everything, compromising the very kindness and compassion I strive to live by.

The internal critic hisses the question: Where did I go?

Today’s poem for Month 2: Day 9 of Dear Me, I Love You, my mission to write a love poem a day for a year is the answer. I’m finding myself again, right where I belong, anchored in these words reminding me to Choose Love. Always.

The Sage’s Silence
by Louise Gallagher

With the whine of a petulant child,
the critic within asks,
“Where did you go?”

The Sage holds her silence in grace,
her Mona Lisa smile
her only response.

She knows I am right here
anchored in the Now
which cannot be anywhere else
but where Love is
when I lean into her tender voice
urging me 
with every breath
to Choose Love. Always.

I Love You Means Always Having to Say “I’m Sorry”

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Month 2 of my year-long A Love Poem a Day project begins!

Yesterday, while walking the shore, I got stuck on that famous Hollywood line from Love Story: “I love you means never having to say you’re sorry.”

It’s a beautiful romantic myth. It’s also not true.

This week’s post is a deep dive into why that cliché is so dangerous, and why saying “I’m sorry” is actually one of the strongest commitments you can make in love.

Read the full poem and article HERE

I invite you to Join the Adventure!

  • Share your thoughts on the post. What do you think? Is apologizing a sign of weakness or strength?
  • Follow along to catch the rest of my year-long project.
  • Share this post with friends

It’s only Month 2, and this adventure is just getting started.

Dear Me, I Love You: A year-long exploration of love through poetry

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A decade ago, I spent a year writing a daily love poem to my husband. That practice taught me the immense, sustaining power of love, even in the darkest times. Now, it’s time to turn that unwavering devotion inward.

At the beginning of September, recognizing that I was feeling stressed and overwhelmed , mostly as the role of care-giver continues to challenge my self-perceptions and my courage to be present within all that is present, I decided to write a love poem.

That one poem inspired this series, Dear Me, I Love You. The commitment is to write a love poem to myself every single day for one year. This compilation represents the first month of that journey, a deep dive into the sometimes difficult, always necessary work of radical self-acceptance.

The creation of these poems became its own lesson in vulnerability and trust. The daily ritual demands a choice: to choose surrender over certainty, acceptance over criticism, and grace over judgment. Within these pages, you will witness a transformation—a journey from seeking external validation to standing firm in the truth that your worth is non-negotiable. It is a chronicle of learning that the love you seek is the love you are already made of, revealed one heartfelt poem at a time.

With Love, always,

To download Month 1, CLICK HERE.

I invite you to follow along on my Substack – each poem has an intro that explores the inspiration for the poem as well as the philosophical elements underpinning it.