Saturday, December 19, 2009

Winter Solstice

Tonight you lay your head
upon the earths gentle breast
and are lulled away to dream land
following the beating of her heart.

Tonight all is silent
so that you may sweetly fall,
like snowflakes on eyelashes,
into your winter rest.

May the return of the Sun bring light to your heart and may you be granted your truest desires.

Tuesday, December 15, 2009


What comes from within us can never be wrong. The gentle unfolding that occurs when we rest in faith can only lead to fullness and truth. When we allow the ropes of mediocrity to fall away and expand into the vastness of Self; we are then human. Human in all the glory and beauty and possibility that Spirit held for us when first we walked the Earth. We become the living manifestation of Spirit, the true nature of our being.

What are the ropes that bind you? Fear that you are not enough; not beautiful enough, not smart enough, not worthy? Fear of hurt and rejection? Fear of poverty, of no mercy?

Fear is the great human limitation. With it we keep our selves bound to the illusion of security, we cease to explore and to expand beyond the routine that we believe is our safety net. Those few that are able to free themselves from their fears; to face their worst imaginings and grow beyond them become like beacons in the night, like guideposts on a lonely stretch of road.

You have within you all you need – right now – to be such a guidepost. You have been created perfectly by Spirit. All you need do is believe – believe that you are enough in this moment to realize the fullness of you. Imagine what could unfold if you held that belief above all others? What if you knew in your heart that your journey in this life has led you to be the perfect tool with which to teach and share and heal? What gifts have you received from your journey; from the most painful parts of your journey? Through pain we reach the depths of our Spirit, through pain we call out to Spirit and receive Spirit into us; through pain we also begin the process of unfolding…releasing the Divine within. Hold your body and breathe, feel the shape and form that you are. Move within – within – within and honour the Divine Spirit held inside. Allow the fire of your Spirit to burn free; asking nothing of it and quietly honour it. You are enough, now, at this moment. You are worthy and loved and there will always be enough for you to be deeply cared for. There is mercy on the Earth – released from within you when you rest in faith and see the beauty of Spirit within you.

Saturday, December 5, 2009

Universal Reality

Universal reality:

Behind the clutter of illusion is universal reality.

Part the curtains of your current worldview;
What do you see?

I see space.
Lot’s of space.

With stars and strokes of beautiful colour.
Empty but not empty.

Within this space is infinite wisdom, possibility and potential.
I only need to step into it.

Pull back the curtains and enter this vastness.

Let my mind, heart and soul flow in this space;
relax and slowly move in this place.

Be the current and flow until
I come to the next eddy.

The place where I can stop and create,

The place where I become the pen
in the hand of the Universe.

Thursday, November 26, 2009


My breath my own again
I welcome the reflex of inhaling/exhaling.
I close my eyes and resistance evaporates and I am moving
on a flow of breath.
I notice the yearning in the stillness between
inhaling and exhaling,
the desire for more.
I let the yearning be there.
Then I embrace inhaling
Each breath a complete lifetime
Each breath renewal
I am new with every breath.
I leave behind ideas of specialness and calling.
I let go of dreams.
I embrace this very moment.

Saturday, October 31, 2009


Stop what you are doing.
Empty your mind.
Stay silent.
Pay attention.
LISTEN to my words, follow my voice.

Picture this face:
Dead eye’s masking sorrow.
In a second flash with rage.
Then gone. Out. Like a light.
Dead eye’s again.
Dry lips, chapped and flaking.
Sucking in air as if to scream
but open only to
… suck in more air.
Teeth chipped from clenching,
yellowed from too much coffee,
too many cigarettes,
too much of whatever will dull the pain.
Brittle hair surrounds this face,
tangled with bits of grass and tree,
matted with mud long dried to clay.

Picture that face.
Forged with lines that track the passing of pain.
Eye’s, red rimmed and wild.
Lips, chapped and bleeding.
Teeth, jagged shards of decay.
All framed with barbed wire hair.

There are places where a woman travels
far from hearth and home
there are voices that whisper in her ear
that turn her heart to stone.

I have been that face.
Have you?

Have you known the darkness?
Has Goddess wrenched you from your bed,
grasped you with her cold veined hand
jerked you from the pretty stones,
the soft silk altar cloths and the sparkling scented candles?

Shoved you past these trappings to the door of the cave?
On the darkest night of the year?

Has she laid her ebony velvet cloth over your face,
opened the great yawning hole and pushed you inside?
Left you to your own devices to find your way out?

With nothing to light your way,
but faith?
Sometimes even faith is as dark as pitch.

If you know that cave, have felt that damp emptiness
If you have tasted sweet acid on your tongue
and gagged on heavy sulpher with every breath
than you know that Goddess ain’t always pretty.

Neither are you, neither am I.

Ugly doesn’t even begin to describe
what it is like,
crawling through that cave,
knees scratched to bone,
Sobbing through your mantra’s of “fuck you’s” and
“I don’t deserve this”.
Bellowing, bargaining, begging, bawling.

And it all falls on deaf ears.
It all falls on walls of stone, slick with ice
and thick as forever.

Sister, if She moves you,
passed bewilderment, denial and broken dreams,
to that cave
you better be prepared.

‘Cause there are places where a woman travels
Journeys she makes alone
To meet Goddess in that darkest place
only the frail stay at home.

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

Samhain - October 31

Mother Goddess descends her throne
gives reign over to the Crone.
Death sweeps across the earth
making way for rebirth.

Cerridwen I beseech you
grant passage to your hall
the dead spirits I sustain
grant passage to them all...

All within the good earth sleeps
and gentle Mother does retreat
to her chamber in the mound
to rest with the Maiden soft and sound.

Queen of Spirits I do seek
a pathway to your Cauldron
I beckon thee Hag to guide me
as I honour the Darkest One...

The veils between the worlds are thin.
Hearken to the whispering din
of honored Ancestors and the Sidhe,
who bless us with their memory.

Ancient women of my folk
the way is clear to my door.
Enter and impart to me
your wisdom, I implore...

Let the year pass this night
and with the morrow's dawning light
may spirit's both alive and dead
walk in peace in the year ahead.

Tuesday, October 27, 2009


I pray a lot – for others, for myself
I stand at my doorway and open my heart.
The air in my voice shakes the leaves on the trees
and my eyes shed the water of the ocean and seas.
Light the fire in my belly, I pray aloud.
Light the fire in my heart so I can heal and love.
Let my skin be renewed by the cool breeze of heaven,
Let my bones be made strong by the power of earth.

Monday, October 26, 2009

The Secret

The meaning that life holds is found
in the small moments.
Found in kindness and mercy and grace.
Found in prayer and in giving.
There is no one meaning greater than the other.
All lives are needed, all paths a sacred journey,
all dreams the soft voice of Spirit.
When I come to know this
as I know my own skin,
then I have truly found the secret.
Once found it can never be forgotten,
once heard it lives in the soul like a song.
We are one.
No matter what separates us;
distance, experience, beliefs, behaviours…
I love you, I need you,
we are one.

Monday, October 12, 2009


There is a sanctuary deep within…
a place of compassion, wisdom and peace.
All we need to live a life of fulfillment
rests within this sanctuary.
Often we seek outside of ourselves,
looking for meaning that we believe
will give us worth,
when all we need do is return to this place,
this Source of wholeness and divinity.
Connecting to our inner source we manifest the life we desire;
through compassion and love we come to know our true Self.
On this journey we discover that
Divine Source is within us;
deeply nestled in our inner sanctuary,
waiting for us to come home.

Saturday, September 26, 2009

Less then Certain

I recently read the following statement from a positive thought/spiritual writer (bolding is mine):

“Knowing exactly what you want to do, with unwavering conviction, is the spark that generates everything.”

Why does this statement – even as I recognize there is truth in it – annoy me so much?

It is because there is something about this belief system that smacks of privilege. Something about it that feels inclusive to those who grow up with parents that believe in them, who are encouraged to follow their dreams and ideals, who are educated, indulged, nurtured.

What of those whose minds are not so sweetly and gently held in the hands of those that mold them? What of those whose minds are not so clear – whose purpose does not resonate by standing squarely in the centre of their third eye but instead dances in and out of focus?

What of those who are depressed, mentally ill, beaten down? What can they generate?

My father died very suddenly when I was 10 years old. One day he was there; healthy and whole, and the next gone forever. My world as I knew it, dissolved into chaos and impermanence. Nothing around me was real, nothing lasted, and nothing mattered. My father was 34 when he died; so young, so much unlived life. As I grew I was hyper aware that life can be taken in an instant. And so I wanted everything and nothing all at once – just in case. There was no clarity, no knowing, and no conviction.

Fear that people would leave me kept me from being authentic – which made people leave.

Fear I would die young kept me from saving for retirement and squandering my earnings instead.

Fear I would never realize my true purpose kept me from getting really good at one thing. Instead I jumped from one purpose to the next, one partner to the next, one way of living to the next, never committing.

Fear of death forced me to embrace it, make it my friend, welcome it. Living as if you are dying kills joy, kills love, kills life.

Yet despite all of this I moved – inched insufferably slowly - toward healing, toward God, toward sharing my gifts with the world; all the time questioning and doubting my abilities and direction, often succumbing to the voices of criticism and fear to the point of debilitating depression.

Yet still I found my way. In the midst of fear and confusion I saved my life (am saving my life) and in doing so am helping others to save themselves.

“Everything” came not out of “unwavering conviction” and “exact” knowing, but out of doing. Just doing. Purpose can arise from the less then clear mind; all that is required is - despite being filled with doubt - doing the thing anyway.

Friday, August 28, 2009

This is how Truth is Shared

Closing my eyes I follow my breath
- in and out
to the sound of the waves arriving on
then retreating from
the shore.

“Breathe”, I hear my inner calling and find the world slipping away.
“Breathe” and effortlessly I access peace within.
The hooks of life detach and my body settles deeper into the sand.

Under the anger there is peace, under the peace there is…..

unimaginable love.

It is as though I sit atop the axis of the earth,
centred, as all of life spins around me.
I envision the many good and gentle acts occurring in the world,
in my own life.
The sun comes out from behind a cloud and I welcome the heat into my skin.
Although the world tells me every day I am wrong,
I know I am a great beauty.
It matters not what I do, who I am, what I think.
All that matters is this listening.
“I need you” I hear and see the beautiful girl in me.
I smile as I gather her up in my arms.

All that matters is this peace
and listening to the breath of Goddess
as She whispers in my ear.
Words I cannot hear.
But my heart receives and my soul embraces
and somewhere within me
I know.

All that has happened in my life;
every choice,
every action,
every event,
was as it should have been.
The best I could receive at the time.
Even the brutality and deep sorrow was only as it could be.
Not me.

I sense the rolling fire of Goddess beneath me and I imagine
an Elephant meeting a Whale.
How impossible would that be?
One the memory keeper of the Earth,
the other of the Sea.

I am meeting my entirety in this peace.
My truth rises up and just knowing is enough.
No one else need ever believe.

I am roused from this peace by a cold nose sniffing at my ear.
A large and gentle dog too quick for its’ human companion
has made its’ way to me before a leash could stop it.
Even though I neither heard nor saw its’ coming,
I am not startled.
Tenderly I welcome the beast
cup its’ face in my hands,
scratch behind its’ ears
and tell it, over and over again,
how beautiful it is.

This is how truth is shared.

Saturday, August 1, 2009

Blessed Lugnasadh


Prayer to Lugh, God of Light

Lugh, God of Light, God of Warriors, Helper of Heroes –
I beseech you on this first harvest, Lammas night,
to assist me Ancient Warrior.
Help me to unearth my courage,
my warrior self.
Engender me with the warriors’ soul
bound with bravery, honour and truth
so that I may do battle once more.
So that I may defend against the onslaught of darkness,
the midnight cloud which settles round my eyes.
So that I may live once again with conviction and with dignity.
So that I may do battle for goodness and peace.
Bring to me that warriors soul that once resided within my heart.
That once spoke true words and fought for justice.
That laid waste to lies and prejudice.
I must not lay down here.
I must not ride alone.
Helper of Heroes pray thee help me now.
With my Warriors soul I shall honour thee.
I shall cleave to light and walk in truth.
I shall quest for peace and live as those fine Champions before me.
God of Warriors, deliver unto me that soul astray,
be it small and of little consequence,
for with it I shall brandish those weapons required
to cleanse my grove of demons.

Hail to the Tuatha de Dannann.

Blessed Be…

Friday, July 17, 2009


God does not punish.
God is not a punishing God.
I do not care what the Religion of Man has taught you,
nor what fear has been placed within your heart
by its’ priests and ministers.
God loves you.
To God you are perfect and deserving and worthy.

What punishes you is your blindness, your reluctance to see
your own worth, your refusal to accept each choice
you have made.

You are God’s child and will always be welcomed on the pathway to Light.
Here you will never be lost for it is on this path
that you are truly home…that you walk with
who you truly are.

To give away your power; your given right to choose,
to the belief that you are being punished
by the very One who gave you that power,
is to dishonour God.
To deny the gift you receive as a child of Spirit,
the gift of choice,
is to dishonour God.

The religion of man has told you lies
about the nature of God.

Yet we are now awakening to courage and light.
We are claiming the gift of God and honouring
our right to choose:
what we think,
what we say,
what we do.

We are choosing true power:
power within.
Connecting to the light of Spirit inside our hearts
we walk the path of truth and courage.

Choose to release your Self from the lies of Man
and come into the truth of God.

You are God’s perfect creation,
in this moment.
You are new with every breath.
You are special
because you exist.
You exist to know the truth of God.

Now choose.

Friday, May 1, 2009

A Dance on the eve of Beltane

Jesus dances under a full moon on a hot summer night. The drums beat out a rhythm and his body responds; moving and circling, his arms reaching for the sky. Each movement takes him deeper into the dance until he is only ‘body’; and there is only him and his Mother. She encircles him within a grove of trees, lays her body down so he may feel the soft grass between his toes. She blows a gentle breeze to cool his skin and brush the hair from his face.

She loves him well.

Jesus’ eyes are closed as he dances and a soft smile plays on his lips. He dances to honour his Mother and the perfect body She gave him. He dances to reach the place of stillness so that he may draw upon the sweet pulsing rhythm of his own knowing. He dances to release the shackles of his mind and the sorrowful images held there of the pain of others. He dances his fear; each stomping foot giving the fear to his Mother, so that She may absorb it in Her body and renew it to beauty.

Jesus dances his desires, each of his limbs stretching, reaching and moving beyond his boundary.

The Mother smiles upon Her boy; this man so full of wisdom, so beyond this space and time. She celebrates his radiant being and the stars shine brighter. This Mother fills Her ancient breast with love and from Her flows a river of purity.

And as Jesus’ dance intensifies, the Mother pours forth abundance of life and beauty to nourish all Her children.

Jesus slows his dance, the drum beating the slow rhythm of his heart. He has surrendered and has been blessed with a cleansing. A tear travels down his cheek and he falls to his knees. Jesus sings a song of blessing, a song more beautiful than innocence.

And when he is finished, Jesus lies down upon the body of this Mother, his arms outstretched to hold as much of Her as He can.

Then Jesus sleeps.

Thursday, March 26, 2009

How could that ever be?

Believing you're are not wanted
is like believing the Earth
does not want the Sun…
is like believing the Sun
does not want the Wind…
is like believing the Wind
does not want the Rain…

Believing you're are not wanted
is like believing laughter
is not wanted…
is like believing dancing
is not wanted…
How could that ever be?
How could that ever be?

Sunday, March 1, 2009

I would miss the Birds

I would miss the birds…

These diminutive creatures that so briefly rest
upon the holly tree outside my window;
they are many, their song is brave,
yet they are as tiny as a baby’s breath.
As I watch them dart from branch to branch,
my heart is calmed, my tears cease
and I know this one thing:
if I were to die in this moment I would miss the birds.

Something about them gives me hope;
mighty beyond their size, mighty because of their size.
So much life – a heart beating fiercely
inside a chest the size of a walnut.

Crying and bird watching are not conducive.

Tears slow the speed required to track each swift and precious movement;
the impish tilt of a head, the blink of a shimmering eye,
the fervent dance among the holly…

And then they are gone,
but not;
they leave behind them the testimony of God;
for only God could conceive of such a thing as these
magical creatures whom, on silent wings,
glide easily through my window
to nest within my heart.

Saturday, February 7, 2009


I wander the street of an old Chinese market. The smells from the food stalls fill the air and make my stomach rumble in need of sustenance. I yearn for food…I can see it, smell it, nearly taste it in the air around me but I cannot put it to my lips. I haven’t the money. It seems that everything on Earth is for sale here. Stall owners wave to passers-by enticing them to come see their wares, promises of deals that do not exist. And everyone knows this but come anyways – come for the belief that they are saving even as they spend on items worth far less than the deal they believe they are getting.

Fabric of every texture and colour, purses of all shapes, shoes, household good, clothing, jewelry; all line the streets, hanging from hooks and stacked on benches. It is as if all of humankind has chosen this spot to enact the sacred dance between buyer and seller, an ancient choreography designed to make the world go round. Without it we would all dry up and perish. Or so we believe.

And I can’t get a bowl of rice. All these riches so close but so far, and my belly rumbles all the louder. I don’t belong here and this is confirmed by the way I am jostled by the crowd, people walking into me as if I am invisible. For this I am somewhat grateful. I don’t want to dance and my cloak of invisibility makes it possible for me to abstain. Yet in abstaining I am ignored by the crowd and my desire to be waved at, enticed, welcomed and seen is as real as the rumble in my belly. A different sort of hunger…one not so easily mollified. And so I stand, a wallflower in this place, amidst the din of raised voices and the clamour of pots and pans, surrounded by the beauty offered by illusion, the seduction of comfort, the smell of savoury dishes. I stand as a wallflower and beckon to those dancing; “Come over here, try sitting this one out, let’s get to know each other…” I promise them that here they will find the most valuable package – wrapped in the immense beauty of their own skin, costing them nothing and providing them with everything. Even as I wave and motion them to me, my heart is lifted, my stomach calmed. Someone hands me a carton of steamed rice, like a hand from heaven it reaches out with just what I need, just when I need it. My gratitude fills me and spills out; a smile spreads across my face. I eat and eat, the rice warming me and filling me. The hand that offered it, my link to the dance, telling me I belong, even as I stand at the sidelines.