The Best Place by the Fire was kept for ... The Storyteller

November newsletter 2025 "Come sit by the fire" / Feature Story

When I was a teenager, my family would sometimes go camping with friends over long weekends.

Prepping to go was tense. My dad was the only one allowed to pack the car, with a set of sacred rules (one of which I’ve inherited):

You must be able to see out the back window...

Packing was my own private drama. There’d be other teenagers there - so do I pack my cool clothes (utterly impractical for camping) or my old comfy ones and risk looking hopelessly uncool? What if someone asks about my Lenny Kravitz poster? Should I bring it? (Yes, definitely.)

The drive in was bumpy, dusty, and my insecurities would be flaring. What if I don't know what to say? What even do I have to say? Oh my god I'm so boring! What if everyone notices? What if they don't like me?

And setting up the tent? INTENSE. (Cue the onlooker camp joke: "you guys are so in tents").

We had a huge tent with no instructions. We would start off "all hands on deck" or "lets really do it this time!" and end with Dad storming around muttering and sweating and scoping out which tree to tie it to, me still holding a pole with notches and a crooked spoke that didn't fit anywhere, insisting that it must go SOMEWHERE, Dad saying WELL IT DOESN'T.

((Authors note: This was fortunately a step up from my mums childhood - where apparently my Pa tied the tent to the car (also in lieu of pole) and then remembered he needed to go to the shops and drove off with the tent still tied to the car....))

Eventually, after the chaos of arrival, everyone would drift to the fire - the true heart of the camp.

No matter the time of day, the fire gathered people. There was talking, listening, laughter, quiet. Stories told not to impress, but to connect. The fire held the space between - that crackling pause where silence isn’t awkward but alive.

And of course, the sacred time when the teenagers ruled the fire - sharing their deep, vulnerable, emerging wisdoms, their observations, and, inevitably, their poo-stories - after all the adults had gone to bed.

In those circles, everyone was both storyteller and listener. No hierarchy. No rush. Just life, shared in its many voices.

Therapy sessions can sometimes feel like that too - a place to sit by the fire. The therapist / fire-keeper tends the flame, offering warmth, reflection, and safety, while the storyteller (you) brings the living truth of who you are, the great mix of stories - where you’ve been, and perhaps where you’re heading next.

What you uniquely know.

And what you don't.

---

Our Community Clinic will be open November 17 - 21.

Come sit by the fire - Bookings are open now. 

Book your session

---

About the Writer

Michelle McCosker is a vibrant and creative person, certified in both Holistic Psychotherapy and Art Therapy. Her life experiences and playful approach provide profound wisdom in her work. She gently guides her clients through old wounds at their own pace, utilising the resources already within their own inner landscape, offering compassion and clarity, helping them access their innate wisdom and self-acceptance. She calls this 'healing from the inside'.

Michelle also offers 1:1 online Holistic Psychotherapy and Art Therapy Sessions (online and in-person) outside of clinic hours.

Michelle is currently a Community Steward for the Connection Culture Community which includes care-taking the Clinic, Mentoring Students and offering focussed study sessions 'Empowered Practice' to Holistic Psychotherapy students studying Lee Trew's model.

Read more about her here.