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Sites of Mutual Fulfilment

I first stumbled across the phrase Sites of Mutual Fulfilment many years ago through Lucy AitkenRead, who writes beautifully at Lulastic & The Hippyshake. She uses it to describe places where both parent and child can feel nourished, rested, and alive — little pockets of the world that hold both of us, side by side.

When I read about this idea, something inside me clicked. While all the world seemed to be telling me to put my kids down, to leave them with others, to spend “me time,” I realised I was naturally seeking out those shared spaces. My children were never something I needed to escape from — because I could fill my cup alongside them.

Now that my children are older, the same still applies — especially in home education. I’m not rushing between drop-offs or waiting bored for lessons to end. We build our weeks around places that nourish all of us.

The spaces have shifted over time. A playground might now mean I sit with crochet or a well-loved book while they play. Sometimes they drift back to watch a stitch forming in my hands. What was once solely for them becomes for me, too.

That’s the beauty of these sites — they evolve as our children grow, and as we grow alongside them.

A few places to begin

🌳 Forests and wild spaces
Trees seem to hold everyone. Children explore and build dens, while I sip coffee, take photographs of mossy light, or simply breathe.

📚 Libraries
We curl into chairs side by side, reading in quiet companionship. Stories bind us together at any age.

🎲 Board games and puzzles
Shared laughter, strategy, and togetherness — no one on the sidelines.

🌀 Creative tables at home
Paints, yarn, clay — each of us absorbed in our own projects, yet sharing the same creative energy.

🌿 Gardens and allotments
Children dig and explore while adults find calm in planting, tending, and harvesting.

Why these spaces matter

It’s easy to live entirely around children’s needs, but mutual spaces shift that balance. Parenting becomes less like constant giving and more like a shared rhythm.

Our children notice, too. They see us reading, resting, creating. They learn that adulthood doesn’t mean the end of joy — that grown-ups get to play as well.

A gentle invitation

If your days feel heavy with one-sided spaces, pause and look again. Many sites of mutual fulfilment are already present — sometimes all they need is a flask of tea, a craft project, or permission to simply sit and savour alongside your children.

Because when we are filled up too, everything flows a little easier.

Leave a gentle note 🌿