Friday, 29 August 2014

Dare, face any storm you wish, and feel the between spaces in your hearts limbs…

Fallow times of great growth has Spring pushing in me. The cold with the springs promise - between places. I love shifting spaces, it reminds me of my own internal landscape that has the winds blowing through and altering the dunes of my being.

To live with the seasons being able to flow into and around me has been one of the greatest gifts that I have ever given myself. I cannot even imagine that I was owned by a large corporation 3 years ago. I felt boxed, limited, controlled, and was so often in “trouble” because I refused to be a sheeple.

The past week I have been so thrilled by the storms hitting the Cape. I dared to go down to the beach when I knew that rain was sweeping across the ocean. I’ve learned to read the speed at which wild rains approach (always quicker than you think!) but still I dared. I dared to feel the biting cold because the Ocean called me. I stood before her magnificence, closed my eyes… her booming voice of a thousand memories reverberated through my heart. I opened my eyes, and the salt from me dripped onto the beach. It was tempting to lie on the wet sand and just let the storm come and wash over me. Cold and wet did not have its appeal that day though. I turned and did not look back or rather across my porch till I reached home… just in time.

I read something this week that really stirred me. It was all about risk, we are here to do this in increments or large forms… I would like to share what I read. It lives in me:

"Life will break you. Nobody can protect you from that, and living alone won't either, for solitude will also break you with its yearning. You have to love. You have to feel. It is the reason you are here on earth. You are here to risk your heart. You are here to be swallowed up. And when it happens that you are broken, or betrayed, or left, or hurt, or death brushes near, let yourself sit by an apple tree and listen to the apples falling all around you in heaps, wasting their sweetness. Tell yourself you tasted as many as you could." Louise Erdrich from The Painted Drum.


Dare, face any storm you wish, and feel the between spaces in your hearts limbs…

Sunday, 11 May 2014

Thanks be unto cusps, transitions and wing tips….

Transition – to change, a conversion, shift, move over
Cusp – an apex, peak, end

To be within the cusp of a transition is all of this, and more. To find the strangeness within your body, an unnamed unfamiliar feeling that cannot be placed. I am sure that we all have been in this space, but do we pay attention to the feelings that move when such a time is immediately apparent?

I find myself in the centre of this whirlwind, a still point with the dust of events that led to this point whirling around me. I close my eyes and can touch the edges standing in this strange country side. I know that I am in between, its dusk, dawn and all the in betweens that I can think of…

Shores edge
                        Wing tip
                                        Skin on water
                                                                   Naked heart

I am aware that this is indeed a sacred place. To know this place consciously is to also know that it needs to properly honoured, and the best way to accept this change is to celebrate it. If you are leaving a job, healing from a relationship ending, or new home… get out the flowers and offer them unto yourself. Have some Champagne, dance, sit quietly but mark this time, put an X next to it on your diary.

My manner is of course to walk the beach and offer a thing plucked from the whirlwinds centre and let it float into the ocean.

Thanks be unto cusps, transitions and wing tips….

Saturday, 3 May 2014

I sometimes think that if I had been born to see rainbows in unexpected places it would be a life worth lived.

As I wandered down the road I wondered how many tears we shed in life?  Is it a roomful of tissue boxes, toilet paper, serviettes, napkins, sleeves and hands? And the reasons always seem on a balanced scale.
A cloud bow seen
A parent lost
Overwhelming love of something/someone
A relationship bump/loss

And randomly, Mary’s words came to me floating up through some stashed memory:

“Someone I loved once gave me a box full of darkness. It took me years to understand that this too, was a gift.” Mary Oliver

The Okapis stared at me as warily as we sometimes look at life; I tread carefully past them at the conservation fence.

I had just finished reading the Book Thief and my mind was on all the things that moved me. My father’s stories of the War were very much alive in these pages. I could have been reading about him and his family. I was in tears when I put the book down. Weeping for a few reasons. 

We might as well add all other reasons to weep when we actually do. 

So I gave room for this. My pug looking at me with equally mournful deep brown eyes. She licked the tears that dropped onto my hands.  And of course a few words began to shimmer round me, the road and beach called to build these thoughts into something I could share.

Frogs clicking in the river, and eventually, ocean roaring, as I sat, a miracle visited itself upon me.

I looked up, and saw the clouds haloed round the sun in fractured rainbow patterns. I think I stopped breathing for a while before my heart welled in deep acknowledgement of this silent blessing. I sometimes think that if I had been born to see rainbows in unexpected places it would be a life worth lived.


My return crunching feet were still full of what I had read, but I was also carrying a container of Cloud Bows. 

Friday, 25 April 2014

The Sugarbrid drank deep from its simple surroundings



Vexing times it seems all due to this Grand Cardinal cross that is meandering over us.

I have been tossed by tides of emotions veering from anger to deep, deep sadness. I have not been paying heed to my need to walk, so I took to the beach just before sunset this eve. I felt I needed to move briskly, this I did, and I had worked up a sheen on my face as I reached the beach. I did not stop my particular movement, untill I reached the rocks on the other side, where I fiddled and fussed where I would plant myself.


As I settled down against a rock, a beautiful large ridge back dog came to rest his face on me, a blessing. And I squinted against the sun, and laughed. The gnats and beach insects were busy as my mind but small. I sat in thought, and saw the two images of the beaches that I have lived in close proximity to, had such clear metaphors. My Gordons bay home was expansive, and yet I rattled in it not having enough to fill it. The beloved beach that I built a labyrinth on was a short walk away, and I used to take to it every morning before I began my day. It was an unusual time… I was alone in my home for the first time ever in my life, daughters both in their own spaces. 

It was a beautiful time of re discovering self. The beach was a busy space, wonderful for the time. Yet there were some things about it that really did not sit right with me. Dog owners were persecuted by the Police (me too) saying they were not allowed there… and busloads of raucous people arrived over weekends and left the beaches in a sad state. It used to anger and hurt me to see this. What I clearly saw today was the beach and its untidiness, and  busyness actually was indicative of the rampant state my mind was in, life was in. The house was a mask of what I did not possess materially either. The short walk to the beach also a metaphor for me wanting quick fixes, action, movement which do not really yield long lasting results.  By building a labyrinth, I had made a statement about where I wished to be within. I was moving towards stillness.

My beach now, takes some movement to get to, its a steep walk down the mountain, no quick fix… it is also quiet, no bus loads of people, clean, with dogs welcome. My home is much smaller, and I do not rattle, my few possessions fitting perfectly. The view, my dears the view is unsurpassed. I can see far and wide from my wooden perch. My inner state is clearer, my material world richer and I too am still within (most of the time). 

I sat until the sun dipped beneath the metallic blue sea. I meandered home slowly and as I reached my home, I saw the Sugarbird that is gracing the large Protea bush just outside my gate. It was dipping its beak deep into the Protea, taking sweet nourishment from its simple surroundings, and how splendid is that? Thank you Sugarbird, this is what I will do. I might still have grumpys and sads, but I shall drink deep from my surroundings, and just allow the winds within to move over me as they will pass, and bring anew. 

Saturday, 5 April 2014

I got out the car and prostrated myself... face down on the warm ground...

I spent the morning with a Beautiful Shaman (Lyn De La Motte) who related her journey in clear words, and her teachings with the same clarity. I know that she will enter somewhere as a particular plant teacher, her method of climbing into the plant, loving it… knowing its
Spirit resonates with how I live.

I meandered into Mall land to enjoy my shopping, loving my money as I spent it on things that I love (Food! Wine! Spices!) I did feel a bit like a Ghost as I was so caught up in savouring my morning with Wolves and Shamans. (yes Wolves, Leila’s amber eyes remain with me) I popped in to see my Beloved to collect a gift for my daughter, Petra – a pug jersey! For a pug fan, a precious gift from a heart that loves.

Still I had a feeling of welling growing. It’s been sitting deep since listening to Galeo’s talk.

I Love This Blue Spaceship
I love The Wilds where I live

And I am so restless to do my work as I walk the land…

And on the home stretch today, as I turned the bend. My eyes spilled, the rushing, roaring, tumbling breakers with their streams of white and rainbow manes had me stop. I drew off the road and simply sat and watched. I looked up to the mountain, the strong presence… the mighty ocean, next to each other. Me in the center of this.

I got out the car and prostrated myself... face down on the warm ground...

And now here, I see the rivers dam rippling, dots of people weaving on the beach, bird song fresh and new, oh – I know that I am truly blessed….

Thursday, 3 April 2014

I identified with the lone wolf, wandering off to find my way

A beautiful Autumns day dawned. Oceans ever present sigh and the days morning songs softly in the air. But this morning I was deaf to this. I awoke with a mind full. Full of self imposed unkind things milling about. It felt like (and right now still does) a swarm of gnats, unwanted. Swatting my head is not an option!



So what do I do with this? Do I pay heed to any of the thoughts? I am left with a Yes and a No. Today I will sift through those that feel most dominant to see if they are true still or not. There have been many years of some thoughts being true, but many have been worked through, and some gnats are just ghosts.  I know there will some validity to certain feelings of inadequacy. To then sit, and embrace them deeply, hold them close and tight. Put them on my lap and love them because they are me and need to be closely loved and seen.

How did this jumble arrive? I will touch on one of the thoughts that is deeply present.  I realise that I live far away and am solitary, because I actually feel socially inadequate.

I attended a wonderful talk last night by a lovely Being who spoke of his upcoming journey to follow the tracks of OR7, a wolf who left his pack in Oregon and walked all the way to California…

This wolf stirred so much within me. Here he is, doing what wolves naturally do in the wild. They sometimes just wander off and seek new grounds, to start afresh. If they should meet other wolves a new pack is formed. And they live their beautiful wolf lives free as they should.
I identified with the lone wolf, wandering off to find my way. Sometimes I think I have found my pack, today I feel like I have not. And whose doing is this? Mine entirely. 

There are many layers to this story that has touched me.

I looked around on the evening, spoke to random people who I have no idea if I will ever see again. Not even the presence of my Beloved, tea with her and a friend of hers in her sacred home space could stop the rising tide in me. I went home awash with layers and layers of emotions arising…

I will sift through these layers today. I have work to do. And perhaps I should just realise that I am a lone wolf and leave it at that. Perhaps I am not meant to find my pack? I need to maybe be kind about that…


I shall of course walk and listen and see to find some answers, and sometime in the day I will hear the world around me. 


Follow OR7 tracks with these humans who want to build co-existence bridges:

Tuesday, 18 March 2014

Silence fuller than a spoken word

My steps falling in gratitude as I re walked the short Medicine Route that was walked with my Sisters In Circle. I was aware the route that I was taking was forever altered by the footsteps of Light that walked with me in the same space and thoughtfulness. A pathway of breath, feelings, minds that each in their own way silently wove a new tapestry into my soul.

I largely live a silent life, where spoken words are rare. And my life is pretty much walks, writing and of course teaching when I need to in between. The shared silence we had however was so FULL. Silence fuller than a spoken word. It was such an intimate space to be in, so sacred. It was difficult to speak when we returned, as if we were carrying something really profound.

Milkwoods bent their slow movement as I bowed to them, thanking them for their unique space that they hold. Waters edge, crashing waves, warm rocks… I sat with tears in gratitude for the Wisdom of the Land. I was aware of the web of each echo system upholding the other just as we should…

Each dear Sister carried their blessings into spoken words, releasing them as birds into the air. Feathered light things that were bright with the light as they poured forth in the truth felt. I could see the WORD’s silently leaving on these wings off the balcony and landing softly on the land, high into the sky and settling in the leaves.

When truth is seen, felt and spoken – it alters the fabric of the moment… thank you to the Light Beings that shared my space – thanks dear ones, deep gratitude.

Post Note:
How appropriate that Oriah Mountain Dreamers post today was this –

"I ache for shared silence, not the awkward lulls in conversation where we reach for something- anything- to cover the tension of trying to be with too much of the other and too little of ourselves, but the moments of fullness that let each of us unfold and know who we really are. I long for silences with another where there is nothing to forgive or explain or justify, where we agree to abandon quickly spoken words for a time so we do not abandon ourselves or each other, the silences where no one asks me to choose between belonging to myself and being with the world. And when these silences come, I feel how I am working my way home through whatever they hold- terror or tenderness, grief or celebration- spiralling ever-closer to a sweetness I have ached for all my life." ~Oriah Mountain Dreamer from THE DANCE

May we find some shared silence today- where we are present with each other and whatever the silence holds. How sweet and intimate it is to be able to truly be together with or without words.


We need not ache anymore do we dear ones?  – come walk again… 

This post is dedicated to Ainsley who is my support in all that I walk in... thank you Beloved One.