About Maura

Maura Conlon McIvor

My name is Irish for Mary. Since I was a kid bicycling in suburban, Southern California, the Ireland of my roots—including our far-away relations and even our school nuns with their lyrical accents—loomed as a magical place, connecting me to something greater than myself. I come from ancestors who left their homeland for reasons that remained largely un-expressed. As I grew up, aware of such circumspect silence, I became curious about place and belonging and trauma and story. In my 20s, I ventured to Ireland to study the poetry of women whose voices felt missing from the Irish literary canon. This culminated in a master’s thesis, deepening my lineage to a feminine braid of storytelling. You can read about that journey in The Diaries

A kinship with the cycles of nature is indicative of this inheritance as is my passion for tending beauty in the world—specifically the ocean. I grew up four miles from the sea. My mother, Mary Hogan, who spent her girlhood summers in Rockaway Point, New York, taught me the wonder of swells, salt air, sunset hues—their colors closely matching the orange lipstick she wore.  So many afternoons I spent tumbling about in the waves, cycling home with sprinkles of sand I’d later spread in my bed sheets. The sea, too, made me feel connected to something larger than myself. I found enchanting the selkie seals from the old Irish fables and wondered if humans could also shape-shift in such a way, widening our appreciation for all the interconnections within nature. 

I’ve worked in California, New York, Oregon and other memorable spots as an editor, journalist, fundraiser, event organizer and producer. Warner Books published my coming-of-age memoir, FBI Girl, just prior to my 45th birthday—the same time as I completed my doctorate in Depth Psychology. I studied the imaginal aspects of childhood and how what happens during our first 14 years leaves a significant footprint for as long as we live.  Topics of Race, Love & Belonging were alive in my youthful California household as we navigated such complexities in real life. See here for a recent, journalistic exploration of these topics. 

I’ve come to believe that our work of most significant impact may emerge in mid-life when we dive back into our original inspirations, abandon antiquated ego expectations, and dare to integrate this inner richness. With Anam Cara Legacy, I’ll be exploring how we transmute wisdom into intergenerational learning that helps people, place, and planet.

Thanks for stopping by! As my mother liked to say: “Don’t be afraid to get your feet wet.”

Contact Maura

Maura Conlon-McIvor at microphone
Maura Conlon-McIvor at coast