This I my heart It is unlike any other It beats and quivers with Feathers from ravens

I am a blessed being that some know me well enough to hand me shiny things that rainbow in the sun, that witness a ravens feather dropping at my feet and the shiver of delight that I have at this gift. I am blessed that I have been seen wondering at the gold of single strand of grass as the sun catches it. That see my tears at creatures that are hurt, and love in the same heart. That listen to the waves roar and wonder at the crashing in the same manner…

This I my heart

It is unlike any other

It beats and quivers with

Feathers from ravens, owls

It shimmers with fur

From loved creatures

Manes of horses, regal cats,

And leaves shiver around her

As she pumps with oceans thud

Mud and rain fly off her as she

Keeps me moving

And looking closely

You will see a roaring fire deep inside

And the words

I AM THAT

Sounding, sounding each breath I take

I essentially felt like an Elf stepping into a city.

I sat in my quiet time this morning watching wave bows spray their brief colored blessings. In deep reflection, I unpacked my emotions and insights from my afternoon spent with a Circle of Sisters. Each Being carrying a unique gift. I dared to step into an underbelly space with my thoughts. No one can escape their childhood – no one can. Mine was safe and wonderful with my family but we moved around a lot. I went to six schools in different towns, and it branded me. It left a mark on my personality. I would always be the new one, and to overcome that I made many masks to wear, to gain the acceptance of my peers, funny, articulate and on the face of it quite adjusted. Yet, I went home, buried myself in books, did not join in the madness of teen parties and essentially felt like an Elf stepping into a city. My own manner of being spiritual was also foreign to the body of Calvinists and Catholics. Wicca was my rhythm, it came naturally... so the setting apart became something deliberate perhaps. It became something I could carry with me where ever we went, the Blue Spaceship of home would always be with me and nurture me. 

I carried the masks deep into my adulthood. It is only in my later years that I have begun to find my authenticity, dropped my masks and have become who I actually am. A quiet person, prone to deep reflection, solitary. Since leaving my corporate job two years ago, I have fundamentally been a hermit since… just finding my voice. It’s a still one, my Medicine is silence…

And there I sat on the lawn, the newbie again, in a circle of people who have walked a path with one another and I felt the same things arising again. I found myself exercising my lack of masks, being still and only really speaking when it was called for. I wondered what I could bring to these women? What authentic little Light am I? How may I serve this little community?

The afternoon was spent observing the other Lights around me. That is what I do, I See. Each women’s own Beingness shone through in the art that they created, each one bringing something so real and vulnerable really. It has given me great reassurance. I will begin to find a way of living into the world again with these sister. I look forward to being a part of the Whole they seem to bring. I am grateful… 

Silver ocean butter yellow bright sun.

The wind makes a particular noise when it whistles through a fence. I stopped a while and listened to this tune wistfully joining the bird song. I was aware of the absence of inner noise and smiled. About 25 years ago when I first began to meditate, I clamored to still my mind. In exasperation one day, I sat in the middle of the lawn. Breathed in the smell of drying grass and began to listen. First I listened to the closest things, man, nature, dog, children all the noises in the street. Then I began to listen further and further away and click… I was gone. When I eventually came back into the noise of my mind, I made a mental note never to forget this day. The wonder of finally finding my tool to quieten.

Walking meditation remains my favourite, I reach heightened senses of not being here but being perfectly in the now. Today I had a restlessness, an ache, so I took off. The recipe the same. First I listen to my footfalls. The crunch of gravel beneath my feet, then my clothing, jeans rustling, breath aware. Then I stretch away and begin moving away from self.

 It was still when I began to walk, but by the time I reached the long fence that divides Scarborough from the Cape Point Nature reserve, the had wind picked up. A Bokmakirie sang the duet I love so, and then a whistle, through the fence, a low tune, picking up with the rustle of the bushes, leaves and sand adding its low music. It felt like I was privy to the start of an orchestra that sang for my ears alone. My tummy flipped in delight. I continued my walk starting again at footfalls, and by the time I had reached the beach, I was perfectly here now with ocean crashing and the wavebows catching the setting sun. Silver ocean butter yellow bright sun.

Thoughts briefly came in the peace state, calling in:

Serpent of the South, Water and Humbleness

Lion of the West, Fire and Courage

Horse of the East, Earth and Power

Eagle of the North, Air and All seeingness

May I embody all of you

And the phalanx of Ancestors on my left, my Matriarchal and the right Patriarchal. All joined in one moment, all present now…The walk home was done in an utter thoughtless space and I reached my wooden cottage before I knew it… so thankful for that simple lesson that I learned and still love to use.

The power of words, are sparks, flames, trails of energy that leave your body

I awoke this morning thinking “Oh its Joyday!”. The thought sat, and grew as I padded to the kitchen to fetch my cherished one cup of coffee to brew next to my bed. I peeked under the covers to see my snoring Pepper-Anne Pug still dreaming Dig Dreams and Salem the Noble hummed next to me.

The Joyday thought grew, we are constrained by our Mother Tongue to what day it is. Why not rename the days of the week to days that are meaningful to you? Why have the vibration of the language dictate to me what day of the week it is? So many have Monday Blues. This poor day has now been boxed into a vibration of a quality that has nothing to do with the fact that the Sun has risen on another beautiful day of your life. Even the names of our emotions do not really explain what is moving through you. The expanded thought to this is how about living a day without language, challenging every word that we utter – WILD! 

How about renaming everything that passes through you! How about renaming the hours of your day, making time for everything that is you, hours for Joy, hours for sorrow, hours for you... or better still, just allowing what is moving through you to be what it is.

The power of words, are sparks, flames, trails of energy that leave your body. See this… picture it. So you are weaving your person, all the hours of your life, by the freedom or constraint of your language about yourself.

Happy Joyday to you dear ones… tomorrow is Breathday, following are Graceday,Gratiday,Wowday,Prayerday and Funday  and right now is my breathhour… 

Cover light years, while standing still.

Sit with me a while, here on the beach. And just be Conscious. See the ocean, watch the white caps and rolling waves, then dip below the surface and feel the movement of the deeper currents, slip deeper still and see how it all mixes and flows. Go deeper, until you are at the bottom where there is absoluteness a deep space of things you might not have seen but its silent…and it IS and it IS part of the choppy ocean above.  

These are the layers of your heart. The wise person knows that when something significantly uncomfortable happens you do not move on. Instead, by going within deeply you will cover light years, while standing still.

Out of this arises a great thing, you can begin to practice a Buddhist philosophy that makes so much sense to me.  By having compassion for yourself first, you may begin to do the same for others. This is called the practice of Tonglen. Another wiser one that me that has alerted this to me write so eloquently on this here:

http://www.shambhala.org/teachers/pema/tonglen1.php

And you will find that in this process many of the same things get revisited, at a different level each time. Sadness and Joy are not inert emotions, they are both so vast and have richness and learning in both of them. And yes some things you might never get to the bottom of and some Joy does not have a word or an expression. But at least, you have sat still here beside me, and begun a still journey. 

The night sky is a scattering of seeds of light.

I refer to another blog of mine written two months ago “My Internal Space Another Country”. Where my last words were “I have been heard” and have I! The power of “imageneering” and being the architect of your own world by using feelings and clear visualisation is staggering. I have brought to me exactly what I wanted… Views from a Mountain across the ocean in a wild place. Perched on stilts in my wooden cottage I feel like a Queen.

I found myself growing down today as I tramped the mountain hopping from one rock to another. When the night began to fall, and the chill that began sinking into me, I grudgingly went back home. I became aware of the very same feeling of being called in for the night when I was a child. That lovely memory of feeling free and loving this world as a child, and wanting as much of it as I can, had me smiling.

I have marvelled at the rock formations here. Sculpture that only mother earth can create – and of how very tiny I am actually. Scarborough mountains, and most of the region were once beneath the sea. The pock marked rounded eddies of water erosion is evident everywhere. It is also so still…I have spotted fynbos and grasses that I have never seen, and fat black shiny lizards common to this region are abound.

As evening set in, I glanced above me and gasped - the night sky was a clear scattering of seeds of light.

I might have found home…

The stillness of the oceans roar crashed through me

When I speak of stillness I refer to the absence of man made noises and that includes speech. I have found a new space to walk and live and be the free spirit that I am. My brief sojourn in the city had me aching for this.

One of the first days of being here in Scarborough I wandered down to the furthest point where fences keep us out of the Cape of Good Hope nature reserve. I sat down – not a soul in sight that I could perceive. And the stillness of the oceans roar crashed through me. There is something particular too of the ocean retreating over rocks and the music it makes that lulled me. I sat for sometime and began to be aware of the roar within. I have been holding so much in check of late. Not allowing my fears to surface, ignoring them. I saw then in a very slamming way of how unnatural this is. We are so indoctrinated not to feel what is considered to be “bad”. I wandered back to my new home still holding in (yes still behaving within some weird rule that says don’t meltdown in public even though there was no public to speak of) and sat on my porch and had the meltdown that was much needed.

Had I listened to my inner compass – I might not have needed meltdown. And in the softened space of this thought – more softness arrived to reassure me that I did what I did for many reasons that are not destructive, but rather in a certain measure of kindness towards myself. I decided not to beat myself up about it and just be more aware of when I do hold myself in check and tot then allow what is needed to surface in its own way. To see the sadness, fears and longings as they arrive, acknowledge them, allow them. Cry, roar if needed – THEN find the vibration of that which I would prefer to have in my world.

Go somewhere today and let your roar crash through you.

Unpin your thoughts, leave them tacked against a tree…

I took to the forest today and returned with the greenery in my soul. I wanted to ascend to go up and up to get closer to the Mother Mountain. Softly I tread on pine needles just taking my own path to cross other known paths. So typically me... I became aware of the city receding, and began to lose my thoughts. They were too noisy. I unpinned them, tacked them against a tree and ascended into silence.

Deep breaths, and connecting to the web all around me. Soft damp air, gentle breeze ruffled me, thoughtless I stood. The word gaining new meaning that carried another richness. A bird alighted close by, flitted, not hearing the clamor that I usually carry.

I became One with the all that was around me. I left the pine forests behind me, and sank into the indigenous vines, trees, bushes. Moss forests, and the peace of water flowing. I looked up, waterfalls rushing and the same down my face as I stood in awe… gratitude abound, I felt I could just arise and never be seen again, having merged with all around me.

I am sure if you look into my eyes now – you will see another country…

Gut knotted, shoulders tensed, oblivion is sought..

I have been thinking deeply upon my need to always want to make right the emotions that move through me. The emotions that are labelled as uncomfortable. Who taught me that fear, worry or sadness is bad? What may I do to just love what is? I have read reams about this… and what Byron Katie says sounds so simple.

"I discovered that when I believed my thoughts, I suffered, but that when I didn't believe them, I didn't suffer, and that this is true for every human being. Freedom is as simple as that. I found that suffering is optional. I found a joy within me that has never disappeared, not for a single moment. That joy is in everyone, always."

Gut knotted, shoulders tensed, oblivion is sought in meditation, thinking positive and being busy…The best that I can do is sit with what moves, accept my emotion. Even be brave enough to back track where it has come from. Have a conversation with it instead of resisting it. In my resistance I do not find ease, but into allowance I find a great deal of understanding/insight and from this arises compassion for self. In this space of looking and examining a sense of detachment arises. And a preference of joy or sadness becomes blurred because this IS… it IS… and there I find myself a full circle coming back to Byron Katie’s words of Loving What Is…

My own personal opinion is that by shutting down any emotion that arises, be that desires, grief or melancholy we lose our humanity and become wooden and somehow less real. This does not mean I am acting on everything that arises, but rather being more attentive and tender towards myself. 

I honour the glimmer of your Bright soul and wish you ease…

I am ashamed to say that I have sometimes not had eyes that really see… Most of you who read this blog know the love that I have of this Planet. But I see that my love has not really extended fully into the compassion of the expression that we as humans make. I took to the streets in Woodstock a few days ago, armed with my cell phone camera intent on capturing what I have seen of late.

No matter where we are, we will attempt to re create something beautiful to rest our eyes upon. The back streets of Woodstock are crammed and narrow, but oh the murals on the walls are something to behold… some fierce eyes and souls have painted expressions of love, fear, pain and trees. And the buildings, I leaned into them and felt the life within them. I was transported back to another piece of writing that I penned a few years back when I was wandering through Addis Abeba…

“Addis Abeba is crumbling, it crumbles from the pavements to the buildings. As if when a building goes up it should grow its own arms to clean the windows and keep things neat. I have compassion for the buildings, everything has a vibration, we are all made of the same material. You have stardust in your veins as much as the buildings. So here you have me honoring the buildings souls. And in this vision I see the people that built them with the crazy puzzle scaffolding - then their dna has dropped onto the bricks with their sweat. So they are connected and part of them is connected... it gets bigger does it not when you live with the knowledge that are all one…”

Crumbling Cape Town is no less different. I honour the one’s who have their homes in the mud of winter, the thin sheet of steel that separates them from the wild rains. I honour the glimmer of your Bright soul and wish you ease…

Are we ghosts, wandering until eyes that see, startle our souls…

Meandering through the streets for staples from the local stores I saw the bowed heads. About a 20 years ago when bowed heads were seen it was in reverence, prayer or deep thought. Now it’s the unceasing communication that we subject ourselves to. I too am that kind of self imposed consumer and have to constantly be aware of stepping away from this. It is as if we are hounded by connections by will or otherwise. The new God is in the air and no one is talking to anyone really. When you catch the eyes of a stranger it is almost a cosmic experience.

I see that the life in the eyes of the street man is more alive than the far away look of the bowed heads. So not present, whereas the tramp has humanity so raw, his hunger real. I escape to the trees who do not say any words, their faces present and sap real, these are the ones I lean into. They connect, I connect and for a brief spell amidst the tar and noise I am aware. And I step away carrying the greenery in my face. To carry to the person who sits on the corner and has thanks for the sandwich given.

I bow my head – for the older reason….

Real people don’t have a gender…nor an agenda

I wonder if gender will ever be simply not seen. I read a post recently that had me walking down memory lane.

I was sun loving tyke with tousled hair, as a child I wondered at the world, loved it just as I do now. My mom had a gem stone licence so we often would head out to outcrops of amethysts, tourmalines and other treasures. I recall a time when we all climbed (my two brothers and sister) into the back of my dad’s Ford truck, with its modified canopy so that we could travel far into the desert to just look. And look we did. I wandered off with my keen eyes and spotted a treasure… but stood dead still knowing that this treasure was not something that others would take too kindly to. A little horned viper, magnificent, the same colour as stone going about its way. I stood dead still, and the Divine Being slithered over my feet, no less bothered than I was. We were simply two sentient beings crossing one another’s paths, with a great respect and awe from me I might add.

I lived out my life as Tassy, the curly haired child that saw ghosts, auras and knew peoples intentions before they opened their mouth. I had no sense of gender. Knew I was labelled as girl – hated dresses, loved cars, played cowboys and crooks. I even had a hero. Terence Hill. My friend Louise Wells and I would enact out scenes from these movies. It as such a free time. We were, I was. Things changed for me when I was about 8, a new awareness arrived. I was being me, when my mother (bless her, I love her) in a fury asked me when I was going to be like other girls? What? What did that mean? I had no absolute sense of others, who they were gender wise. People were just people, yes there are girls and boys, but the division of sexes was not something that existed in my sphere.  

And so began my road of awareness of being different. My first crush on a friend, feeling sexually attracted and knowing that this was not something that could be admitted to. It took another 23 years from age eight when I first fell in love with a woman. Reading Hanne Blanks post (show below) had me revisiting the long road to wishing that people would just be seen as people. Not genders, just people who love people regardless of their sexual assignment, wishing there was a world that we were not fed how we should be… Read it, and see what this evokes within you…

Read her post here: http://www.hanneblank.com/blog/2011/06/23/real-women/

Yeshua, in rags, gave alms to the animals…

Mary Oliver’s lines, shown below have sat with me in another way this month…

“Instructions for living a life. 
Pay attention. 
Be astonished. 
Tell about it.” 

I have been living in a place that I find odd for me. Walls all around, sound of the City, and just a peek of nature, the towering Mother Mountains edges. I KNOW that living in a wild place feeds me the best that this Home has to offer. I wondered how I would live my stillness into this space. I had to conjure the knowledge that Obs is no different from Kommetjie. She is One with the all that exists in all the magnificence. It has been easy to see that…

And in that I saw light beings walking the pavements. Those huddled in the corner, years of drinking and poverty clothing their shiny cloaks. And evidence in the form of a man that stood beside me in a bottle store. I think that he must have the entire store in his body, unwashed and spending what he had on pro longing what I judged to be oblivion. And there, he took his last few cents and put them into an animal welfare tin, muttering “This is for you”. I turned to him and thanked him for making me see this tin, and for prompting me to add to it. Our faces lit up, both us seeing each other in a brief instant of recognition of who we are, WE ARE.

Yeshua, in rags, gave alms to the animals. And I will never forget meeting him…

The Void, though dark is the most fertile place…

The Void, though dark is the most fertile place…

There lies a patterning to this Verse we live in and upon. Wherever my eyes stray there is something that repeats somewhere else, from beach to forest my eyes search and see the similarities in all. This is no less different in experiences, all that has happened has happened somewhere before. I really have a sense that nothing new is really unfolding – bar – the understanding of thoughts and how they affect us – on a mass scale.

Earlier this year I was presented with the most profound gift ever received, yet at the time unwanted.

A Void – in places that really touched raw nerves considering the consumer era we live in. For a period of a month and a half I simply had no income. Zero. I had DONE all that is possible. Everything felt at zero. There was a big nought that I SAW. What I saw came from a space that is so judging, so hooked into the way the world works. But having no choice other than to just be, this is what I did. I sat, beneath a Milkwood, and began to imagineer my life. I sat and listened to what I really want to do, sat and listened to what I am really good at doing, sat and listened to what my heart wanted with this.

I began to see with new eyes what I actually had… and these are lasting things that are not anywhere attached to the way our world works. So in my sitting, I spoke out loud to all that could hear. Sat on rocks at the beach and spoke what I wished, and simply FELT what I wanted. My Beloved recently put it so well, she said that we are really Architects for our lives. What does this Being do really? She designs, puts the pillars in place where they are needed, creates a picture of what the home should look like and once she is satisfied – there are others that take care of the actual appearance of this plan.

Only post the fact do I see how important it is to be clear with what you want, my wording was precise. And my heart too was clear, I was not without fear, facing something like this was not easy…yet here I am… all that I spoke, all that I envisioned is here now and I know that so much more is arriving.

Nature abhors a vacuum, it will fill with what ever is at hand when there is a space. Such as when sand is dug on beach, more sand will fall, or uproot a plant and another will grow. Whatever is at hand is the thing that will fill the space… so this is why I want to really express that be steadfast about all the things that you want to bring into your life when you are in this space, because the thoughts that you surround yourself with are the ones that will rush in and fill that space…

I am grateful… I Am

My Internal Space Another Country

My Internal Space Another Country

Softly I shall leave this space that has cradled me for seven months now. I walked my gratitude yesterday, and stood looking out across the bay and clearly asked for a return. How I have been cradled so well by my Mother here. My internal space another country from my arrival here. In between my thanks tears, pouring, not out of sadness, but out of the sheer gratitude of grace. Grace, that soft feathered thing soft against the soul.

I know that somehow I will return to this particular space within the month, and be in a home space even more glorious. I know. How do I know this? Yesterday whilst walking, I heard the Fish Eagle call.  I stopped and silently asked for me to see them instead of hear them before I leave. And today above my home space, I heard them call. And there, circling with some cheeky crows, they cried that call so well known, as they flew higher and higher.

A simple request from heart space has been granted. My big request came from the same space. I have asked for a home space, where I may be for much, much longer, this is something that I have been calling in for a few months now, speaking to the land and all the creatures.

And I have been heard, by Grace...

Sometimes simple stories that state the obvious, are all that need to be said.

I have been in such a melancholic state today, an uncomfortable feeling. Perhaps I am feeling the collective sadness of most people I know. I watched the sun slip, felt the shiver of the day silently vanishing. 

There are three things in life that people desire, this is health, wealth and love. Each of these things could whisper in and out of our lives like moths. Sometimes they are like bees and produce honey, other times they decay like the leaves at summers end. The change that we so struggle with, flits towards us whether want it or not. And here I sit with tears at all the changes. Tears of gratitude because of all the goodness, can be mixed with sadness of things that are slipping away.

I reflect on all that I love, from planet to people…

It is true that the only thing that really remains is love. What we do for love, how we made love to world, how love shone from our hearts, who we love. I will sleep tonight and awaken to a different world, I will continue changing. We are not the same people we were a few days ago. Our internal stories keep altering, and only we know what is written in each of our hearts. No one really knows you.

Do yourself a favour, tell someone your story, tell someone who will listen. You will be surprised at how little you know of yourself really. But begin somewhere.This exercise will open so much inside you that you will begin a journey that you have already taken all over again.  Only you can know yourself. And that in itself is a triumph, the triumph of living – knowing yourself sufficiently to want to alter and perceived shadows, embracing them enough so that through love, they may transform.  

Walk lightly with yourself...

I see the Sky take a breath and exhale the Milky Way…

The Night Sky. Being away, from the lights of the City at a Retreat space (Bodhi Kaya) I am in awe. Standing beside my Beloved, I gaze at the three dimensionality of the stars. I had forgotten there are so many. Thousands of pin pricks of light, gleaming. How can my soul not be moved? I stand mesmerised, transported back millions of the years… I see the Sky take a breath and exhale the Milky Way…

And slowly I return to the here and now. and humbly I stand light years away, knowing that I am the stuff of stars. It is like gazing at my brothers and sisters of light that are no different than me other than their current formation. Maybe one day when I leave I will be one, not such a bad thought. I hope at least that I will remain in some hearts as brightly as these ones above me. 

All for nothing? All for Everything? Sometimes I know the answer, but right now it’s a mystery…

All for nothing? All for Everything? Sometimes I know the answer, but right now it’s a mystery…

The softness of the day seeps into my soul and a great welling of compassion and love for all my fellow humans passes through me. I was driving to the Library, to obtain my stock of free food. I watched the people thronging, it’s a Saturday, the only time so many get to do the edges and necessities of life. I saw an awkward teen boy with a wild winter hat, all arms and legs, an old woman swiftly shuffling, a woman with a young child being dragged, her pigtails defiantly at right angles.

I thought of the workers, cleaners, packers, vendors, CEO, stockbrokers, mothers… how they work. To feed clothe and keep this spark called Life moving. A tear coursed down my cheek out of compassion, deep love simply because it is this way. And the enlightened ones that mark the homeless ones, how each of us has returned to be something that is essential to this planet. No one person here by accident. The people in the car next to me all with some purpose for their day.

By the time I got to the library I had mascara tracks on my cheeks, and had to find a tissue (used in my handbag) to wipe away my humanity. I entered the soft smell, books decaying as we do. Walked amongst the shelves, needing to gain focus to look for sustenance I did not know that I would be taking home. As always the title sprung out and formed verses of poems, phrases all to be forgotten by the time I got home. (I think a notebook with next time might be a good idea) Wondering all the time if there was anyone else in this room of books that saw what I saw. And if they saw a grey haired one with her bold scarf wistfully going about her seeking, or if I was invisible.

And now my lunch eaten (Smash, too lazy to make something) rain leaving gems. Agnes Obel in my ears, I simply sit, recall my morning and wonder… All for nothing? All for Everything? Sometimes I know the answer, but right now it’s a mystery…

New Moon descent, through Persephone’s gate, pomegranates long seeded, my return always my choice

New Moon descent, through Persephone’s gate, pomegranates long seeded, my return always my choice

I am very aware of the moon phases, my journey into alternative ancient ways of thinking began with Wicca as a teen. And the deep instinct of a Woman to follow her 28 days of fruitfulness or not is deeply followed. The twist that I have always had, is that it’s on the waning of the moon, as she becomes darker that I, in my own cycle am the most creative.

I have this urge to paint, sing, dance and be OTHER when the moon changes her showing face from a bowl, to a fingernail to nothing at all. This is when I shift, don ravens cloak, feel the shift of wings on my back or slide into serpents close hugging of the earth’s skin. This is when a cave of dampness with one candle and a few fruits would suffice… I drop, drop, drop into deep meditation and visit spaces that I only know of. Where I know of Samadhi, feel my energy rising subtly, chakras ablaze, certain that if mortal eyes saw me they would see nothing but colour before an alter.

The artefacts that I collect shift with me, tortoise shell, seal skull and teeth, baboons jaw, porcupine quills. Left – over’s, shadows of former beings that walked. This is what I happily descend into with some measure of excitement. Shadow, mine. Is the place where I work deep, where no light other than inner can be seen to dimly find my way into my own psyche. I revel in the music of my heartbeat, soft inhalation of lungs, occasionally feel as if I am about to rise up, a wreathe of incense, coiling with my face. Oh moon when you hide your face, I dance into the shadow with you. This is when I plant my seeds, to reap all my fruits as you slowly show your full beauty again….

Rippling land, muscles beneath the sand moving

Rippling land, muscles beneath the sand moving

I was jogging, feeling my body move, dragon breath in the cold morning. And as it is often with me I become not just me, but animal, this time again a jackal, sure footed four legs, mouth wide running back legs just catching front in full tilt. Muscles rippling along my back, tail an extension of my balance…

The skys have been doing this too, rippling across the land and I can see the muscles of the beach moving, a mist of beach just above the surface leaving the evidence of muscles moving beneath…hard pelting rain freckling the skin. And now I fly over the ocean higher the winds blowing me back, but there is no fear, just a surrender has I close my eyes and drift with the power of the Sky always upholding me.

Aah wondrous Gaia, how I love you and know why I keep returning – I love you my Mother

That I would rise and leave this house one day, I wonder if I will thank it as much as I feel right now…

Soft form of mine, housing something so much bigger…

I thought of the enormity of the choice that I made. To return to this soft form, this house. To return to the ravaging emotions, the pain, joy, love and before I could remember that I have come to do something, my form has changed… child hood seems such blur and an unawareness of body. And my adult hood… somewhere I lost track of an awareness, and came too in my early 30’s. I have a body, a shape, a temple to love and cherish. And so I began loving myself.

Consciously, I have done this. I say it unashamedly, I love this shape. And now as the years start creeping onto my face… I look at my naked form in the mirror, hollows beneath my ribs, still will always have a soft mound of a belly. Stretch marks faint from the children I bore. Breasts heavy, belly button deep. I stretch, flex my arms, biceps strong, still there. My favourite part of myself is the way my breasts curve into my arm and the muscle elegantly joining my arm, and I look at the aging face staring back at me. Somehow the rest of me seems to have failed to catch up, no lines – only a little softer, a little blurred. My hip bones not so prominent, just there for me to know.

Oh shape of mine, thank you… I pay benediction to myself often. I bless my feet that have carried me strongly, my legs fine pillars moving in my life’s rhythms. Every inch of me is thanked for its function, creamed, oiled and blessed. I am grateful. Thank you dear soft form of mine for housing something that is so much bigger than what I see and feel. The enormity and humbleness I feel for this, makes me weep…

That I would rise and leave this house one day, I wonder if I will thank it as much as I feel right now…

I could see the prayers streaming from me, waves of words like a halo..

I could see the prayers streaming from me, waves of words like a halo..

More and more, do I follow the compulsion to simply listen to the voice that says – “Go, go walk the beach” or “Go to that place in the fynbos and sit”. Messages that arise, I check first in my body if this feels accurate… I am sensitive. Then I go and Oh my Goddess, I could simply rise like a cloud…

I listened to this yesterday, in the midst of working rather fiercely I have a dead line for. I stopped mid stroke… looked out, left the keyboard, locked the doors and walked towards the ocean, in a kind of a trance. I felt myself fully engaged with All. 

And in minds eye I saw – I Am a Prayer, In my Joy and Despair. I am a Prayer. Each thing I do is perfectly orchestrated, everything I Am, is whole- ly. I Am perfect. I am performing a Divine function being particular me… and saw this in a lovely picture of a lone woman on a tar road heading to the beach, with streams of wordprayers around her like a halo… doing something significant on a Cosmic scale just because She Is.

Find Something to Love so deeply, that you feel the Divine Love in All

Find Something to Love so deeply,  that you feel the Divine Love in All

Softly treading the morning, Winters low sun obscuring my seeing again. Oh well, not a bad thing to rely on one sense alone. I have a scarf wrapped round my head to keep my ears warm. Short hair does expose one…morning walks are my favourite. I feel like the first one to see what I do, to feel what I do. To gently enter my day in the beauty that surrounds me.

Dropping into meditation, I said my “I Am” decrees, told myself my "Living my life of dreams " story that’s not a story but real to me. I felt myself expanding as I do, when I am in the arms of the Mother. I pondered on the lesson from the Mantra’s that I have been doing with Deva and Miten. Yesterdays was “Om Parama Prema Rupaya Namaha", Salutations to Divine Love in a form that I can recognize...

I could only drop into Divine Love knowing what love of Something or Another feels like. Seems simple but only really hit home this morning. If I did not love this world this Big or Beloved this Big, I would not know where to begin.

Find something or someone to Love big enough to be able to find Divine Love. It’s a lovely trick we have been handed in this time here…

I bow to the divine love made manifest in all sentient beings: a lover, a friend, a child, a pet, a special tree in the forest…

I Love you All so much, I do...

Still, heart still, I heard the stereo of the ocean…Velvet sea weed, taught skin, firm flesh, like a lover

Still, heart still, I heard the stereo of the ocean…Velvet sea weed, taught skin, firm flesh, like a lover

Muscles crunch in a tinkle music beneath my feet. Paused to catch the footfall of self. Squinted into the distance, lowering sun obscuring sight, only leaving my hearing to catch where I walked. I closed my eyes, and feelingly moved forward, aware to the right of me ocean, the left, the softness of bird calls, beneath me my own tentative footfalls. Afraid to move further, but still wanting to keep these other senses evoked, I sank to the sand. Feeling my way for a soft place, brushing sharp muscles away…

The smell of the ocean, the oceans debris washed up on this real beach, seaweed with a slight breath of sulphur. All slowly decaying as I will one day. Gulls, overhead, and a flock of somethings, soft Manywings over head. I could almost feel the breeze they create as they beat soft though a dimension I cannot move in.

My hands moving through the texture of the dry beach to wetness just beneath the surface. The texture different, from soft falls to compacted. The stuff that the beachplant beings drink. Velvet sea weed, taught skin, firm flesh, like a lover. I lay back unheeded, not caring if I was in a pathway or not, and heard the stereo ocean of one shore crashing and another follow. On a perfect bend to disappear into the rhythm. I could feel my body wanting to move as a sea plant and float gently… into another state of being. 

All the world a web, expanding moving softly…

All the world a web, expanding moving softly…

I gasped in wonder this morning at the evidence of sister spiders everywhere! There was no bush or grassy place that did not hold a jewelled creation. So well spun, so crafted. Tiny tunnels made on the webs that were on the ground between the grasses. Finely spun dresses on the bushes. And they gently expanded and moved with the breeze, not breaking but stretching…

Oh yes, this is what we do is it not? We are part of that great web of expansion when we tap into Love that is present all around us. The matrix of life is really that. A soft web unnoticed until we have those eyes to see. And when you see that you are this Love, this wonder, then all the Love that you have for anything may expand, become a more rarefied thing, purer and also just LETTING the Love of others be just that.

A Wise One put it well in these two quotes that I will leave you with.

"The most important aspect of love is not in giving or the receiving: it's in the being. When I need love from others, or need to give love to others, I'm caught in an unstable situation. Being in love, rather than giving or taking love, is the only thing that provides stability. Being in love means seeing the Beloved all around me." — Ram Dass Ram Dass and "We're here to awaken from the illusion of separateness"

 

Expand, tap into the Matrix of Love Dear Ones… You Are Love.

This breath my last, this heartbeat my last – of this very moment

This breath my last, this heartbeat my last – of this very moment 

We are always saying goodbye are we not? Each breath we take will never be taken again, each heartbeat the last, for that moment. Each tick of the day never to be revisited in this awareness. Either this will send us into a panic or it will allow to you to softly drop into gratitude for every breath taken and every footstep walked. Kind of creates a new awareness does it not?

I will do this for a little while I know, be so aware as I am today. I will look at the sky and know that I will never see it the same… this awareness began forming last night, as I sat in a Powerspot in the fynbos, the dune sand softly beneath me. The silhouette of the grasses, milkwoods silent partners, in the moon watch. I dropped into a deep meditation. My ancestors a long line, farmers, millers, military men, chefs, herbalists, healers… everything that they were/are beats in my blood.

And they too silently stood and watched Earth brush Moon with her shadows breath. Breathing their last moments there, then, at a different sky. 

I am in my Wolf skin to run and be…

I am in my Wolf skin to run and be…

It struck me this morning that even though the sun was shining on my back, the beauty of the world presenting itself as it always does, that I am at war.

“Where does this come from?” I asked. Feelings of despair, sadness, grumpiness, I felt like I had fangs. I could have just dropped into Wolf shape and run howling and growling. This thought stopped me. Well why not? How about looking at this really closely by climbing inside its skin? How about just dropping the resistance?

Do you like me spend so much time resisting discomfort, trying to pursue the “happy” place? How about me trying radical acceptance? I decided there and then to learn to stop my resistance, I don’t resist feeling happy do I? So should I not give the times that I am feeling not so marvelous an equal chance for me to learn something about myself?

So today, don’t resist. Just Be, run and howl without damaging too much property and leave others out of it. It’s your own personal war…

Be daring and say “I am feeling like crap today” instead of “I am fine” Be radically honest with yourself to see where this comes from. And move on…

Every blade of grass jewel encrusted…

Every blade of grass jewel encrusted…

I imagine this amazing Being coming in the night, softly vast over the ocean. An ephemeral creature arising briefly, but magnificent. Slow moving, she glides with a cloak of glittering gem stones, that even the stars seem dull. There, she flows over the land, to leave strands of her cloak. And I awaken to walk the wonder. Every blade of grass, leaf, spider web gleaming. I imagine that I am breathing in the last of her gifts.

I wish to see her, to sit on the beach and watch her role in. To lie in the sand and be covered with her blessings. Feel the cool benediction wet my face, soak me with the breath of the sky…

Watch the evening my friends, slip into the night, you too may see this, if you slide the cloak of unseeing off your eyes…

Times sands sometimes fall crooked

Times sands sometimes fall crooked

I walked the beach this morning, and was in a different place. In deep introspection it was as if I was in a foreign place. Everything new and not.

I sat down, pondering at the oddness within. Listen, listen… you are in different place. Look deep inside. Your inner - scape has changed, so all you see will have a new shape.

I watched long, dusted, and went to the wreck on the beach. There, but not, and if I closed my eyes a bit I could see through sands of time. Times sands falling crooked, me at the prow of a roaring ship plunging through the sand. I looked at the clouds up high, each carrying a whispering message of a sunny day, the ocean sentient – continued to crash and speak to the shore. Me silent by now, aware of space above and silence inside.

Each day you awaken you will find yourself in a new place. Each day is now and new. And your memories and wishes will seem strange to you sometimes. Out of body - but there. Times – they are shifting – deep… deep.

Half Moon Bowl, Pouring Out the Blue Sky

Half moon bowl pouring the blue sky out, look up, look up to see this magick.

Dearest Ones! Every day we can take to heart be amazed or wander blindly through all our tasks. I was hanging the washing this morning when I looked up to seek the moon. This is kind of a habit for many, many years. And there She Is. Pouring the blue sky out of her bowl tilted just right for that time of the day. I think I danced a little jig.

Is your life a prayer of constant awareness? Do you breath thanks to the sparrow eating crumbs in the centre of the city? Wonder at the clouds shape that wisps past? Oh pause a while in your hurry and pay homage to all the magick of life around you today.

Mary Oliver speaks soul poetry, she puts this so eloquently.

Praying

It doesn't have to be
the blue iris, it could be
weeds in a vacant lot, or a few
small stones; just
pay attention, then patch

a few words together and don't try
to make them elaborate, this isn't
a contest but the doorway

into thanks, and a silence in which
another voice may speak.

~ Mary Oliver ~

Oh Pause, pause to See....

Keep walking out of your tombs...

The sun shone so Bright, I was blinded to the new...

In the Northern Hemisphere this has been a time of entering into the new for eons. Spring with all its growth and promise have been celebrated since time immemorial. It did serve the religion that rose 2000 years ago to adapt the theme of newness and resurrection to this time. The theme however remains much deeper than this. 

The teacher Yeshua did try pass it on. The message is  Much Bigger. That we begin to awaken to the realisation that the Universe of Love is within us and that only WE may begin to see that all we need is within us. Your I Am presence Is. All around the Western World people are awakening to go through either the motions of the celebration or really realising what the message is.

May you have many, many Resurrections dear ones…keep walking out of the dark cave of the deaths that we all experience in this incarnation. And I must say I cannot close my thoughts here without remarking that it was the Feminine energy that recognised this very symbol first…

Breath of Oceans Rhythm...

Breath of Ocean, in and out…sometimes as if it has run, other times a reposed walking 

I attended a full moon women drumming session with Nidhi Chaitow last week… and it has moved me into being even more particularly aware of rhythm and chaos. My breath, heart beat, regular. The oceans tides, regular, seasons…and within all of this a beautiful chaos of the Wind, the Rain, the Heat… Life…LIFE is as it IS. There is always certainty and NOT.

I close my eyes and fly out of this atmosphere, and see our Blue Space Ship gently spinning, and the larger trajectory through the stars. A Mother sure, carrying me for centuries in all my incarnations. Certain in her path. I wonder how many times I have done this?  Seen the rhythm, paid homage to the stones on the beach thinking that they perhaps were a mountain once. Or the raindrop on my face, was it a drop from the Amazon? Or a snowflake in the Arctic? I see her whirling clouds in the patterns that repeat into the patterns I see on the sand…opening my eyes, the wild dance of grasses and fynbos, the Milkwoods, bobbing and bowing… all a rhythm…and sometimes we cannot follow the beat. That’s OK, it ‘s all as it should naturally perfectly be. I am as organically connected as a flower in the pavement is, I will live and die in the chaotic rhythm of my Life.  

And perhaps one day I will be born enlightened, and perhaps I AM, just this dream, and am not even here really, a Thought of the ALL.  I suspect even then I will elect to return to Gaia or be Thought here. To Feel this Big Love so raw. 

Wave bursts, wild shore

Wave bursts, wild shore. Each pattern its own Dream…

The rocks bit into me as I sat, just stubbed my toe too. Holiday makers,  my judgement on their apparent lack of consciousness grated my consciousness. Who am I to judge? And where on earth did this disquieting thought come from? I sat for long – actually unable to send the Love I wanted to FEEL for the Whales who had beached themselves. And judged myself…

Quieting my mind from all this body chatter and inner chatter, I attempted to sit still. I realised I will never be satisfied, I would always be seeking… And in an illuminated second (it really was a FLASH) I knew that it’s ok. Just drop the story Tass, stop your own judgement, stop looking out and when you look in… look with compassion. Embrace yourself, and have deep, deep compassion for yourself dear woman. And just be. Be in this very present moment, watch each thought float off, watch… See the waves burst, see that you are your own Unique Beautiful Pattern in this Divine Dream, as all Others are…

States of Grace

Hot Lonelys and other states of Grace

The day dawned with a restlessness, that my “I Am the Victorious Intelligence governing my Life” prayer did not shift. I decided to work to see if it would shift, had breakfast in some vague hope that it was just low blood sugar. Mid work, my thoughts ran to the idea of going to Kalk Bay via the train just to walk and look. Window shopping does bring in things too!! However in the back of my mind I knew that this was me wanting to fill my state of being with “something”. I wondered if should just sit still and be with it… and decided that I could still do that over Chocolate Cake and good coffee.

I just missed the 11.15 so waited for the 12 o clock… A Gull hovered just over me… staying there for long till the message sank in… The shadow on the platform, the bird on high… me sandwiched between. To stay in that Grace Place, neither shadow nor light, but just I AM…

The train arrived and my meanderings yielded leather for a pendent from India that Farrah my Beloved eldest gifted me, and a rainbow Om for my car. But still, nothing shifted. Even after Chocolate Cheesecake and Tanzanian Columbian coffee blend…

Sitting still over the coffee, looking out… something that for some or other reason I feel ashamed to admit, arose. Hot Lonelys - the company of someone dear. Not necessarily of blood, but someone Significant with which I could simply be on this day. From where this arose I have no idea. I decided to keep the tears in till I got home. So there it is… it will pass I know. And I also know that these emotions are something that we even have, when we have Beloveds beside us. Such is being a Soul Full being. Realising that just a hug from somewhere, would not be sufficient, simple recognition of my Human State. 

Sadness not named

Saw the birds fly home to evening roosting place... and felt nostalgia and sadness not named. Perhaps I will leave it as such...

The evening has come softly to me. While working I looked up and saw some birds fly in formation to a place I know they will rest on the estuary. What made me well up with nostalgia and sadness I am not so sure. The colours tonight also speak of something deep and soft. A blue grey sky, striated with soft variations, mountains a purple grey, the moistness in the air cloaking the distance with a haze.

I was at the beach this morning investigating the ROAR that has been present since last night, somewhere out at sea there must have been storm, the waves crashing, biting chunks out of the beach. Kelp strewn everywhere, ripped and dumped for the shore dwellers to feast on. I am aware of the storms I have had in my life, and how they do sometimes as the waves do, cause a crashing against inner shores. And this sometimes will simply appear as a subtle knowledge when birds fly home to roost. Ah, the mystery of life…

Daylight streamed from my eyes

I felt the daylight stream from my eyes…

Feeling full, knowing that every moment is sacred, a song of Light streaming fully from me as I walk – I wonder if I am streaming to another Universe? A particular songbird (Bokmakierie) that I awaken to and hear during the day, came to bless me – his splendid yellow waistcoat with black cravat…and oh when he sang his full song right in from of me on my garden gate, I felt as if the Heavens had streamed into me. Tears of deep reverence of this Gift is still swirling around me, and its been a few days now…

Take each moment Blessed Ones, see it as perfect and sacred. Each moment a breath of your Divine Breath. I find myself stepping slower, walking lighter an awareness of each moment being a Choice.

To quote from Celia Fenn “Beloved Ones, as you become more accustomed to this new Flow of Intense Divine Light, you will learn how to hold your balance and to thrive in the New Reality. The most important thing to remember in this Fifth Dimensional Reality is that it is a Realm of Interconnection and Unity where All Things are Connected in the Flow of Life. You are living beyond Duality and beyond the old frame of reference where everything could be judged and categorized. In this New Reality, you are beginning to perceive that Everything is Sacred because Everything is an Expression of the Light of God in some way!

The Earth is Sacred...You are Sacred and your Life is Sacred. You Live in Sacred Space and you Breathe Sacred Energy!

Beloved Family of Light, it may not seem that way as you look around you and you see so much apparent evidence to the contrary. But, can you allow yourself to perceive for a moment that Everything that exists is an Expression of Divine Creative Intelligence and that Everything is in Divine Order and has an essential meaning.

Now, in the Old Reality, it was simple to divide things into Light and Dark, and Good and Bad, but can you see that as you made those divisions you created the need for them to exist. The moment you created "darkness" you created a need for that energy, and so it came forth. The moment you release the patterns of Duality you release the need for the games of light and dark, and you are ready to begin to perceive that every things exists in Sacred Space.”

How well said... I think that there are many of us stepping into this new way of living. Breath Your Sacred breath and Know that you are Mother/Father God.

(read the full text here from Celia Fenn: http://www.starchildglobal.com/newearthenergiesmarch2013.html) 

Summers Sighs

Summer sighed her lovers warm breath, Autumns cool hands stroked the land softly

A mist surrounded me, muffled steps, softness of morning. Jewels hang on the tall grass. I come to my God Bend, and cannot see the ocean as the soft blanket of mist moves. I feel the shift, Summer is leaving. And why I have tears at her warm breath going is something that I need to see deeper. Perhaps it’s the carefree nature of the rambunctious summer, yet she is also a full woman with her fruits being harvested. Grapes, dripping plums, nectarines bursting, passion fruit juice tantalising, melons bounty, apricots tart… and all this will become Winter, jams spread,  sugared preserves, chunks of summer when the land lies dark, wine at the fireside reminding us that All can be remembered and savoured if we know how to keep it.

I love this… the seasons turning. No abruptness to it and gradual entering of change, really the way we should approach life. The softness that I recognise entering coolly, and the blessed rains that come to feed the land soon. But it’s not done yet, this warm lover will still linger. My senses have just felt that imperceptible shift that if you really tune in – knows. 

All that I have sought

All that I have sought I have not found,

All that came to me was sought

I have been in deep contemplation this week of the concept I AM. I have read books, listened and applied this. The words I Am are powerful. Using them with FEELING brings to you all manner of wishes fulfilled.

I get this…

But, I want to know, really know, what this means. What these two words mean within, declaring them is not enough for me. I want to know Mother/Father God. Gnosis. A real experience.

To quote from a website “The word Gnosis is derived from the Greek language, and means "knowledge of an intuitive comprehension of spiritual truths". Gnosis is a knowledge that cannot be arrived at through books or lectures, but rather through one’s own direct experience of reality. Gnosis is often referred to as knowledge of the heart, in contrast to knowledge that is obtained through the use of the intellect. Gnosis is not just theoretical, but one hundred percent practical. Through direct experience we surpass the boundaries of belief and disbelief, since both lead to ignorance. Through Gnosis one personally learns to experience reality directly, rather than believing or disbelieving, accepting or rejecting, and comes to know the inner truth."  http://www.gnosistasmania.org/

When I get to moments like this, I move. There is a bend on my walk, where I know of the Great Spirit, a power spot…there before me lies this: ocean, bend of beach, wetlands, mountains, bay, clouds, birds – all of pure creation, not of mankind. Without thought, it is there. Being. 

I see that I am seeking all the time… and it strikes me softly and slowly…

The Ravens in the Trees this morning

The Honey bird in the aloe two days ago

The Trees that wrap me

The Bee on my hand on the beach this morning

Each of them had a significant meaning. A message for me alone that when I really opened myself,  poured straight into my heart. Teaching me. Speaking to me.

I am just going to watch and wait now. All that I have sought I have not found, All that came to me was sought.