The New Dawn Of Clarity

For the last few months I’ve felt like I have been slowly smothered in a full length cloak of other people’s luggage – which has included their projections upon me and also their misconceptions of me.  I’ve felt cornered, choked and thwarted.  It was like a container that was full to capacity and finally burst its seams.

I attempted to express and explain myself over and over again and it was met with a complete lack of understanding – resentment and much distortion ensued. I felt contaminated with streaks and smears of black cloud dust that was worming its way into my mind and heart.

I have since released myself from this predicament and I feel a new found flexibility and sense of freedom.  My creative power has once again become prolific and unimpeded.

I have felt a tangible mixture of hurt and conversely, complete and utter gratitude for the wisdom gained and the opportunity to learn from these unpleasant experiences.  I feel hurt that many people find so much comfort in playing the ‘victim role’, pointing the finger and finding reasons to tear you down, which of course extricates them from the real business of taking responsibility for their own projections and behaviour. 

It’s so much easier for others to point the finger of blame – they are right and everyone one else is wrong.  They wear the victim badge with pride and hope to hypnotise anyone within ears reach of their subsequent misery. 

I am by no means perfect but I do always try to see both sides – sometimes a little too much and it often does me no favours.  I try to be gentle, open and honest when speaking my truth and my feelings.  But, like anyone, I can become frustrated when people are so wrapped up in themselves that they cannot see beyond the end of their own noses and you feel like you are banging your head against a brick wall.

It’s also very difficult to have true conflict resolution with behaviour that is erratic, unhinged and blinded by anger.  You will never be heard or consequently come out of the fire unscathed.  They are locked in a maelstrom of their own creation and nothing you can ever say will penetrate that.

I also had to deeply own the reality that I allowed myself to be pulled into the drama.  I allowed myself to become clouded, until I got the very serious message from spirit literally bellowing around my ears: “You are done here, the lesson is learned, no need to keep slogging your guts out, you’ve done more than enough”.

I feel immensely grateful and, although these experiences were unpleasant, it was the necessary growth I needed.  And I will never repeat the experience again. I can file it away with the rest of my learned past under the title “RIP”.  I needed to finally learn this lesson that has been active for most of my life and I’m so glad I did.  I needed to re-define in my own terms where to put my energy and my focus and the events had to unfold in the manner they did so as to be steered away from dark, fruitless, limiting situations that seek to employ only blame missiles in the hope you will be knocked from your position of power. 

Well I wasn’t knocked from my position of power, I was temporarily misplaced and I zig-zagged aimlessly around the perimeters of life until I was forced to take heed.  A large part of my journey in this lifetime is to remove the burden of ‘the cloak of responsibility’, the mistaken belief that every lost soul that comes my way I need to assist and literally bend over backwards to support.  I am not responsible for others.  None of us are.  We can be kind and giving without allowing others to drain our blood. 

I truly deserve to have the opportunities in life to state what I need and there is inherent beauty in that even if others will ignore or throw it back in my face or attempt to disavow me.  We cannot let that stop us.  It’s about us and not them.  Even if they constantly try to make it about them! It’s important to move on with no resentment or grudge-holding in your heart.  I have had to become unusually gifted at forgiving and letting go of animosity, I’ve had so much practice. My past was set up that way but I am so grateful because it has made me the person I am today.  I believe on some level I came into this life to learn forgiveness on deep levels and I have been very successful at that.  Forgiveness is an act of self-love – we do it for ourselves and not for anyone else.  We do it so that we may be free and clear to move on unobstructed by the past or the present.

A wise friend recently reminded me that “People can say whatever shit they want about you it’s not important, let it go, it doesn’t really matter”.  And she was right, it was another graceful reminder.  It all starts within us.  And besides, life is too short.  We can wish that much joy, happiness and abundance find them but we don’t have to be pulled into the abyss with them.

Becoming clear that we are not responsible for anyone else’s emotions, thoughts, feelings or actions is very empowering.  So is stating what we need in life and then being able to let go of the outcome.  Let Spirit take care of the details, it knows the exact situations and experiences that will enhance us.  When we know in our hearts what we want and it is not clouded by conflicting emotions or deranged feelings, when there is a clear channel of knowing we deserve more and we feel that with every fibre of our being, this sends a direct message out into the cosmos.  The universe is always listening. It wants to bring us more abundance.  I have found that once I peeled the dense layers of other people’s ‘shit’ away, that beautiful synchronicities began to show up in my life and that other people began to affirm their love and appreciation for me. I picked up my guitar again for the first time in years, I began drawing again and my writing flowed out of me in a perfect current of harmony.  Everything seemed to fall into place without me even trying.

Once we let go of how we need something to happen then the energies behind the scenes get to work to orchestrate our vision and intentions into form. Spirit and Life begin crafting the landscape of our present and our future.  But we have to be clear, not just clear in our minds but clear in our hearts too, the opposing elements need to be resolved. A clear conduit must be created.  When anything is blocked, the flow is impeded and it’s then harder to manifest the things we want and need. Our mind can want one thing but our hearts often don’t believe we really deserve it.  This is where the real work must be done.  But it is incredibly rewarding work.

Be clear and then let go. The Universe is waiting for the signal.


The Source Of The Feminine.

There are wounded children everywhere and never more so than the children that have become adults.  Most adults are the walking wounded, to whatever degree, from the subtle to the cataclysmic.  Our mothers and fathers, for better or worse, shape our psyches.  They are our mirrors; our teachers; they show us the way – whether that is into a gutter or up an elegant marble staircase. The Mother and Father wound exists everywhere in our world, on the microcosmic and the macrocosmic level. From our relationship to the Earth and its subsequent destruction, to the raping of her resources and pillaging of her bodily contents, and from our disconnection to the ineffable divine. If we all honoured and revered our relationship to the divine, not one single person would ever kill another human being again, let alone rape, torture, subjugate or annihilate.

Because most of us have never got what we needed, it is often harder for us to create that afresh in our own lives as adults. It often doesn’t come naturally to us. Our natural instincts are often askew. It is by no means impossible but it does take work and a lot of perseverance to reconnect to our inner selves and witness and heal the damaged parts.

If you were lucky and did manage to get proper nurturing and emotional sustenance as a child, then perhaps your conditioning is not so severe that you are able to view and handle struggles and challenges as a dance.  But how many people do you really see dancing and laughing through life’s challenges? Not that many!

What exactly is defined at the ‘Mother Wound’?

The mother wound is the pain or burden of being a woman passed down through generations of women in patriarchal cultures. And the high price of the dysfunctional coping mechanisms that are used to process that pain.  The mother wound is not about blaming our mothers, after all their inadequacies manifested through their own mothers and on and on marching backwards down through the lines of Time.

It is believed, and medical science has confirmed, that whatever the mother is feeling or experiencing during her pregnancy will be passed onto the child. The child feels it and thus it is taken into its tiny body and mind.  The developing foetus is like a sponge, every regret or fear, or unexpressed emotion, the child will absorb as if it were their own.  How a woman feels about herself will be passed onto her child.  The mother passes on her lessons to the child through her own body.  The mother and child are as one.  The baby gets the first experiences of how the mother really feels about herself: her womanhood, her sexuality, her creativity, her instincts and any unresolved issues. The unborn child absorbs the messages surrounding the mother’s sense of self, or lack of it.  And the child will more often than not carry the pain of her mother, her mother’s guilt and shame.

The mother’s job is to pass on the self-valuing, self-nurturing instinct to her child. A mother can only give to another to the degree that she has received, or allowed herself to receive in life.  If her own mother was a poor care giver, both emotionally and physically, then for the most part your mother will also have no concept of the ability to self-care and self-love and have instincts that are intact. 

How many women do we know, including ourselves, to whom self-care or self-value is not our natural state but something we have had to painstakingly learn? How many women do we know that run themselves into the ground with their ‘to do lists’ – taking care of everyone around them and then having little energy to really follow through on her own needs?  How many women, including at some point ourselves, that do not eat well, drink too much, smoke too much, take too many drugs, embark on unsatisfying romantic and sexual relationships over and over again? Often proclaiming loudly about being in control, proclaiming they have everything in hand but the evidence screams to the contrary!

The more that women value and nurture themselves the better mothers they will be and their entire lives will be richer. Society would have us believe that women should just give our all to others without asking for anything in return or without giving anything to ourselves and thank goddess this is changing. 

What are the effects of the ‘Mother Wound’ on women in society?

Many women are disabled by the feeling of comparing themselves to others, whether it’s people in their lives or public figures, so that they feel they’re not good enough or don’t have what so and so has got.  The shame and guilt of feeling that there is something wrong with you, that you must remain small in order to be loved and accepted.  The persistent sense of guilt they feel for asking and wanting more from life and the people in their life as if you have no right to it.  Many other effects include:

  • Having a high tolerance of mistreatment from others or consistently allowing others to let you down and disappoint you without asking for more from them. Often barely noticing until an observer points out just how much you are tolerating from others.
  • Not being your full self because you don’t want to threaten others or make others jealous, so you allow yourself to stay small.
  • Being overly rigid, uptight and dominating, needing to be in control of your own emotions, situations and your life in general at all times.
  • Being completely exhausted from giving to others, without any time or energy left for yourself. Becoming resentful of the time, energy or support you give to others that does not seem to be  reciprocated. 
  • Issues of not feeling worthy of creating what you truly desire in life and not feeling safe enough to take up space and express and voice your truth.
  • Fear of failure or disapproval that means you never actually go for what you want or need in life, there is always some excuse or some reason not to put yourself out there. Self-sabotaging thoughts and actions – you never finish anything you started.
  • Having weak boundaries, allowing others to walk all over you or manipulate you and having no real sense of who you are and allowing yourself to be defined by others or their opinions.
  • Can’t trust in life or others to bring you what you need.
  • No relationship with your own body or connection to your own sacred sexuality. No instinct about what it is you need on a day to day basis from food, drink, health practices, stress relief etc.  Or even if you do know, ignoring them as it seems too much effort.

We have internalised our mother’s unconscious beliefs about not being good enough as a woman or a human being. Even if you think on the surface that your mother was doing just fine, no one leaps into life fully formed – we all have to acquire our self-worth through consistent self-examination and time spent delving into the abyss of our feelings.  No one escapes this – not even kind, loving mothers.  If a mother does not know her own self, she passes on that lack of self-worth and emotional naïveté onto her child. 

Many women were born to emotionally fragile women. You might have believed your mother was strong and then a life event, maybe a divorce, a death or some sort of financial crisis and then suddenly you are aware that your mother was not able to cope with her emotions and you see her running to the Lands of Ethanol and Prescription Drugs in an attempt to control her ‘out of control’ feelings. Or maybe it was just a slow creeping state, where you saw your mother seek solace and relief in chocolate or food, alcohol, cigarettes in an attempt to push down her burgeoning feelings. If we saw our own mothers become fearful of life and their own emotional processes, we will also be fearful of losing control and of our own emotional depths. If we saw our mothers cry when they needed to and act with honesty, awareness, strength and love towards themselves then we will also have been imbued with the sense that difficult things happen but we can navigate through it, and that we also have tools to manage life’s events.

A woman often doesn’t understand why her life is not working, despite others telling her how much potential she has – it’s like a vague, nebulous feeling that you just can’t put your finger on but often what happens is that subconsciously a woman feels that if she asserts her own power and potential then she will be unconsciously betraying her mother and may possibly experience personal rejection by the mother. Even if the mother is not around anymore there can still be a subconscious belief in place that says in order to stay loyal we feel we cannot rise above her limitations  Coupled with the fact that the daughter is carrying much unresolved grief and guilt from the mother which she herself will never be able to metabolise.  We were never meant to metabolise another’s emotions – only our own. We often feel like we carry the weight of the world and we don’t know why.

We have all sensed the pain that our mother’s carry.  It is an unconscious coupling that has us falsely believe that we are partly to blame for it.   We sense our mothers have sacrificed themselves in some way to birth us and bring us up.  This sense of guilt was formed before we had the necessary cognitive development at our disposal. Children believe they are the cause of all things because they have no other fathoming.  As a child you believe the whole world revolves around you and thus if anything goes awry in that world then it must be your fault. You must be to blame and therefore you carry that with you as an adult – the complexities of guilt and the belief that you deserve to be punished.

Many women often feel that to unleash their power would trigger their mother’s sadness, rage or depression at having had to sacrifice so many parts of herself in her own life.  This is for the most part is a deep seated, unconscious fear around being powerful and how that might be perceived and received by those in our lives – particularly our own mother.  Even if we feel our mother is supportive of our creative and professional ventures, most of us worry that if we step into our full power and become the best version of ourselves would we then lose our connections?  For some people their connections with people are based around being a victim and bemoaning how awful and unfair life is.  What would happen if we didn’t want to engage with that anymore?  How would we converse with people, how would we relate to people? What would we talk about?

Like many of us, I had a mother who allegedly ‘didn’t do’ emotions – or so she believed!  Yet I have often felt like I was born into the fiery fist of angers choice. My memories consist of my mother swaying from anger to depression, often within a short space of time.  Mostly anger and black moods dominated the scene, this continued throughout my whole childhood and even to this day.  Excessive anger, depression or mental disorders are synonymous with those who find it difficult to process or be comfortable with any emotions that arise. Anger was my escort for my entire childhood and it was stuffed within the fabric of my development. It was a brooding presence that stained and eradicated all sense of hope.

Many women feel that they are simultaneously ‘too much’ and ‘not enough’ – often in the skip of a heartbeat. We feel we don’t measure up or that what we carry is too much for others to bear witness to.  I was always a sensitive child – an empath – and before I grew and cultivated my own anger at my mistreatment I was often scolded or chastised for crying or displaying anything other than numbness. Displaying of emotions was considered a mortal weakness in my family and community. 

I came into this world with all of my lights switched on intellectually, emotionally and spiritually and I was a constant source of others envy and jealousy because I did what came naturally to me – which was to shine my light.  I was a golden child that shone too bright and it apparently blinded many.  So through much brutal persuasion I realised that this would not be celebrated by those in the shadow of this light so I collected up every last ounce of it and stored it in a treasure chest in a secret location.  It felt like in my innocence and childlike exuberance to be in my natural state that I flew too close to the sun and got burnt to tatters.  So on came the dimmer switch to detract the pinched and grubby fingers that would constantly try to tear at the stitches of my exposed delicacies.

Whenever we consciously process our own pain, we liberate those around us, especially the mother/daughter relationship. A child must be free to pursue their own dreams without guilt, shame or a sense of obligation. Many women have felt that their mother’s pain is, if not our fault, then somehow our responsibility.  It creates co-dependency and this can cripple the daughter in so many ways as we then set the pattern that we need to mother our own mothers and we need to shield them from their own vulnerability.  This, as a daughter, is one of the worst things we can do.  Because we then often go out into the world mothering those we perceive as vulnerable or lost hence setting up a complicated pattern of dependency and abandonment.  We tend to over-care or over-give to those we meet who are not yet able to reciprocate, so we often feel disregarded or even exiled. 

We grow up with a distinct sense that life is one of diametrically opposing themes. A faulty structure that tells us we can be powerful but we will be hated and worse rejected and even possibly banished if we stand in our true power, not just from our family but our friends and our community too. But if we stay small then at least we will be liked and hopefully loved. If we do not speak up about our feelings, thoughts and beliefs we believe it will keep us safe.  Yes, it might keep us safe but there will be no growth. Microbiologists have observed that a cell can not grow when it is in protection mode.  As a collection of trillions of cells we are exactly the same. Growth and forward movement cannot happen when we are in protection mode.

Any rejection from our mothers, no matter how small, can often teach us to reject ourselves or that we are not worthy of love. A rejection of the Feminine teaches us to reject our own feminine.

A common objection to facing our wounds is to “Let the past be in the past.” However, we never truly ‘escape’ or bury the past. It lives in the present as the obstacles and challenges that we face every day. 

Our first enounter with the Goddess or the Feminine was with our mothers. If we avoid acknowledging the full impact of our pain and the patterns we have adopted from insufficient or mixed mothering in our lives, we still remain to some degree, children.

Coming into full empowerment requires looking at our relationship with our mothers and having the courage to break those patterns, even if you have a wonderful healthy relationship with your mother. The goal is to transcend her limitations and it will be the same with any children we have, their goal is to transcend our limitations. Healing the mother wound is about embracing ourselves and our needs without shame or embarrassment. We need to move beyond pointing the finger of blame and to examine the full impact of this relationship – especially if we want to take up full space in the world as naturally powerful, confident women that no longer apologise for taking up space or for who they are.

I’ve been unfortunate sometimes to have had friendships with other women who often tried to make me feel guilty if I wanted more than the meagre scraps they were offering me.  They would criticise, judge and even insult me, throwing many emotional pistols my way.  In retrospect I know that they were also struggling with the “I’m not enough” aspect of the mother wound.  It seemed to be a pattern in my life that I would more often than not attract women who were very jealous or envious of me, of my intellect, my connection to spirit, my openness and even and sometimes especially my love of glamour and the way I presented myself.  I often felt wracked with guilt that I made these women feel worse about themselves so I did what any woman with a truck load of abandonment issues would do – I played small and dimmed my light so as not to antagonise or threaten others. I hid myself emotionally so as not to court too much attention. 

Of course, now I know it wasn’t even about me, the hatred these women felt about themselves was as deep as the seabed and the waterline went straight back to the first female in their lives.  I know because I felt it too, I didn’t have the same jealous streak they had for me it manifested in the constant seesaw of believing I was ‘too much’ and that I would also never be enough, this was all internal. I have been a strong supporter of other women my whole life even if it hasn’t always been reciprocated.  Even when women hated the sight of me I never took away the merit of their gifts or talents, it wasn’t my domain to tamper with. I always knew that I was responsible only for myself and the more work I did on myself the more I realised that the buck always stopped with me. 

If I sensed a woman felt bad around me then off I would travel to plummet and forfeit my light and gifts into a giant hole in the ground so as not to elicit anger or disdain towards me.  I got scouted by a modeling agency whilst I was in Covent Garden with a friend one afternoon some years ago and the guy went on and on about the way I looked and would I consider coming to see them about some work they believed I could get. My poor friend looked like she had swallowed a foul mixture of defensiveness, envy and the immediate pain of not being acknowledged at all by the guy.  I felt mortified, embarrassed and ashamed that I was being singled out and my friend was being completely ignored so I dismissed the guy with a wave of my hand and pursued onward with my friend in tow.  The friend in question never uttered a word about it and neither did I.  It was as if it never happened.  Instances similar to this happened time and time again where I sensed someone’s envy or insecurity and then quick as a flash I pushed down my light and my talents. 

This was not noble or even selfless of me – it was just a survival mechanism.  Being bright, shiny and fabulous had never done me any favours, it had only brought harm and abuse.  It was a deep-seated fear that I would not be loved or even liked if I stood up and embraced my gifts, so out of fear I hid myself away, even if it was only metaphorically. I hid my light under a bushel, in a 20ft ravine!

My mother has always been jealous of me and took any opportunity to disavow me.  If I were ever to admit any of my achievements or subsequent talents then I was shot down like a military target for being arrogant or full of myself or so they would say.  In our family it is against the ‘unwritten law’ to say anything nice about oneself.  It is supremely and fundamentally outlawed.  I always sensed my mother’s deep hatred of herself, her body and her life even before she vocalised it.  My mother imbued me constantly with a sense of hatred, that our very flesh was ugly and pointless, pointing out all my ‘perceived flaws’ or that even if I had nice legs now that I would eventually get her ugly, flabby legs as she put it.  All of the women in our family are vehement with disgust for their own flesh, their own brains and any talents they have.  So I grew up never believing it was safe to shine and that I must also hate myself.  It was the same when I started primary school, other children seemed so jealous of what I had been born with, of how easy learning, processing and artistry was for me.  So I learnt that in order to be liked and loved one must remain small, keep one’s talents and gifts hidden in a receptacle that only you are witness to, and for heavens sake don’t let anyone else ever see it. You will surely die from the arsenal of envy that will be thrust your way – or so I believed.

I am still learning to embrace my talents and gifts when so many people seem jealous and envious of what I have been imbued with.  People have often commented that I have an intense brain and that I have an encyclopedic wealth of knowledge and they don’t know how I remember and process it all. I have always been made to feel that I shouldn’t bombard people and that I should downplay my intellect.  Some people look bewildered when I tell them things and I still often feel that people would prefer if I stayed small so as not to make them feel bad about themselves. Of course, they don’t realise they are doing it, their insecurity is a faulty dial I sense they would like me to reconfigure for them by dialing down by own power. Also conversely the amount of times that people have been shocked when I opened my mouth, as they assumed I would be dumb because of the way I looked –  because apparently you can’t wear red lipstick, rock a heel and a pretty dress and still be intelligent! I’ve had many people, and not just men I might add, comment that they couldn’t believe I had a brain because I looked so feminine. Thank goddess this is changing and that women are being seen as not just one thing or the other. My intense brain is part of my power, just as my sense of humour and fun, my love, my openness and my love of glamour.

I want to say yes to being a powerful and potent woman who no longer feels guilt about shining her light far and wide. Because if I can do it, then anyone can.  Part of healing the mother wound is about learning to mother yourself.  Cradle your deepest most painful emotions with the strength and softness of a loving mother.  What do you wish your mother would have done for you?  And then recreate it, do it for yourself by yourself.  You can go inward and visualise that inner child, that delicate, wounded, yet golden child that is sobbing for your love and grace and your extended arms around her. Speak with her, listen to her, surround her constantly with love and support.  We can’t move forward without honouring the neediness of our inner child.  Berating ourselves for our neediness or our vulnerability will achieve nothing but more pain and lack of self-worth.  To build self-worth we have to nurture ourselves, listen to ourselves and then act with kindness and love. We are only human, we won’t always get it right, we have to forgive ourselves. If you are having a bad day or a bad experience don’t chide yourself or berate yourself into just getting on with it. Honour your experience, learn from it and hug yourself like a loving mother would do.

I am learning to catch myself every time I deny my own worth so as not to make someone else feel bad about themselves.  It’s not my responsibility to take on the insecurity of others, I can only deal with my own.  Over the last couple of years I have been developing a solid inner mother, who is providing solace, unconditional love and support to those still unhealed aspects of myself.  When I feel or someone points out that ‘I’m too much’, then instead of finger blaming I turn inward and assure that ‘unmothered child’ that she is not too much, she is enough and that whatever it is I have, the world needs it.  The world needs all of our talent and light.

 When you ignore your pain you ultimately ignore and reject yourself.  You can always have a wonderful mother, even if your mother is not here physically or emotionally.  Mothering yourself means that you can go out into the world with a sense of power and awe because you know you are there for yourself and that there are no more apologies for the very woman you are becoming. Sufficiently mothered children never apologise for who they are. They celebrate and shine without shame or guilt. The world needs your goddess given talents, your earthly gifts and your cosmic infused light.  You owe it to the world to shine as bright as you can.

The Art of Listening.


I entered the threshold of this brand new year and felt it bash me over the head with a mighty dose of grief, anger, frustration and sadness.  I was caught off guard, but as is the way with emotions they are not polite or concerned about whether we are ready for them. And so I allowed them to stretch out and take up space within me. 

I am still feeling the pinpricks of the ‘mother wound’ etching tiny holes into my emotional panorama. At times it left me feeling hopeless, grief-stricken and bone-weary.  Most of us struggle or have struggled with the ‘mother wound’ which I’d like to talk about more fully in my next post.  But for the time being I’d like to express how that has manifested in my interactions with other females.

Late last year I had been thinking so much about the historical, emotional and spiritual evolution of women.  I was so empowered and proud that women everywhere were speaking up about their subsequent mistreatment and what an amazing thing this was to witness.  It got me thinking about equality and more pertinently equality in our own personal lives. Are our relationships equal?  Is there an equal amount of reciprocity?  Do we have the right to ask for more for ourselves?   Equality always starts within.

There is an extraordinarily gifted healer I work with regularly and on our last session he proclaimed to me that I didn’t have the right friends in my life and that it was 80% about them and 20% about me. I actually laughed out loud like he was relaying to me a funny Greek Tragedy but then I remembered that I was the main actor!  ‘Hmm’, he said, ‘but that will change, it’s related to your mother, they will leave and the right ones will come’.  He said it all so matter of fact. Bish, bash, bosh! His words have reverberated sonically around my head for the last eight months.

Of course it’s not funny at all, it’s actually one of the last remaining ‘wounds’ I’ve yet to successfully heal fully. But for the most part he was right and it’s always been that way for me, ever since I can remember and of course the core of this issue relates directly back to my mother. I’ve always felt like a starved, anorexic woman when it comes to reciprocation of support. Apart from with my partner I’ve never really been allowed to fully take up space in interactions on an on-going basis.  Since my early adolescence I always did the running in friendships.  It became exhausting always chasing people, always having to make the effort, always being the one to do all the legwork.  Always hoping that if they hadn’t heard from me in a while that they would be the ones to check in to see how I was but they never did. It seemed like I was on a marathon hoping I would win the race but I never did.

The constant effort on my part was disabling and I was left to wonder ‘what was I doing wrong?’  Of course I now know that I didn’t do anything wrong but I did have a pattern set up within me that I was to consistently be abandoned and disregarded by other females and so it continued, always making the effort for people’s Birthdays and at Christmas and special events and when it came to me – the broken promises, the disappointments – I was always lucky if anyone remembered or even bothered with my birthday, let alone any other significant times.  And this has more or less continued in varying shapes and forms. 

The open page for me is the one space I can be myself, where I am not interrupted or someone is not immediately bashing me over the head with their own story before I’ve even got two sentences out.  A lot of people become writers to inspire and inform others but also as a way to allow themselves to be heard.  To allow themselves to take up space that might not be available for them in their lives or in the world at large.

It has always felt like my whole life was shaped to just be an open space for others to drop into whenever it suited them – or whenever they needed something from me.  And when I did state my need for equal rights, for some degree of equality, the amount of times I’ve been called over-sensitive, insecure or “too much” are too numerous to mention.  It was as if I existed for them but that I was also non-existent with no right to my own needs.  It always felt as if they resented that I was asking them to step up, trying to make me feel guilty or wrong that goddess forbid I was I asking that they be there for me when I needed it. But that was okay because they got what they wanted and I was left to wander around my own emotional attic cutting myself on every sharp object within reach.

So of course over the years this translated within me that perhaps they were right that I had no right to having my own needs met. That I should just get on with it and be grateful for any scraps and so I swallowed this truth for years. Even though I spent years listening to their needs and listening endlessly to their insecurities and over-sensitivity. I remember a friend years ago bemoaning to me for about 20 minutes how sad and upsetting it made her when friends forgot or made little or no effort for her birthday and on and on she went and I wholeheartedly agreed with her.  This would have all been fine and dandy, were it not for the fact that this friend in question could never ever remember my birthday. The irony!  I think at the time I was too shocked at her complete lack of awareness to even muster anything in retort. 

Birthdays are always an emotional time for me – not in a negative way – but it’s a time when I can stare myself square in the face and say “Wow you made it, you are still here what a gift that is”. I want to proclaim it loudly to the people in my life.  Most people love being made a fuss of on their birthdays, and even the ones who say they hate their birthday – which is usually their fear of getting older – secretly love being acknowledged.  After all it’s a celebration of life, of our lives.  For me, most people don’t get what it’s taken for me to get here.  I was a mistake, created from a disastrous, abusive, dismissive relationship.  I was not supposed to be here, I wasn’t wanted.  I almost died when I was born.  I was choking to death.  I also had two dislocated hips a result of the aggressive use of forceps which damaged both my hips and gave me severe dents in my skull.  So had it not of been for my grandmother (who had the wherewithal to firstly notice that something was wrong and then secondly to proceed to stretch, yank and adjust my hips back into place with an intuitive precision) I would have been disabled, because not one of the hospital staff noticed my predicament.  I then spent most of my life trying to run from trauma by drinking, taking more drugs and mixtures of drugs than anyone I knew and stretching the boundaries of life and death constantly.  I surmised that I would never make it to 30. I didn’t want to.  I flirted with death for most of my life, actively pursuing it and even making attempts to nudge it along.  But thankfully I am still here and for that I want to celebrate and feel that people in my life should want to do that with me. I’m in their lives because I had the courage of a warrior to meet the face of death and decide to choose life. I always feel upset when people don’t get that, instead only choosing to see the things I can do for them to enhance their lives.

I’ve met some amazing people over the years but I’ve never really had amazing friendships, not ones that were consistent anyway. Ultimately though I believe it’s the energies running within me that are spiraling out like a giant photocopier giving me the mirror of what I believe I deserve, which obviously has been ‘not very much at all’.  I often feel the constant craving for more depth and sustenance and I realise for some that’s just not possible.  They haven’t scoured the depths of their own being.  I know people are just doing the best they can with the given circumstances. People can only give to you to the degree that their own hearts are open. But does that mean we shouldn’t evaluate the quality and equality in our interactions?  To love ourselves enough to know we deserve to be valued and honoured as an important part of someone’s life. 

How many of us are going through the motions in relationships, friendships, interactions, feeling disappointed, frustrated and empty? I’ve had these conversations many times with friends and associates in my life and each person will relay to me stories, instances and ongoing circumstances where they themselves feel let down or frustrated with other peoples lack of thoughtfulness or lack of acknowledgment.  So I know it’s affecting many of us. There is this disconnect all around us when our natural proclivity is to connect.

So why do we put up with it? As women we have been drip-fed to just allow scraps. Women have swallowed this for years, just accept the crud and crumbs in life, be grateful for any small thing you can get. It’s unrealistic to expect more.   And yes there is a lot to be said about gratitude but what happens when you actually realise that you deserve a lot more than you are getting? 

It all boils down to believing we deserve it.

My mother has disregarded, ignored and scorned my feelings, thoughts and emotional depths for the entirety of our relationship, constantly attempting to make me feel guilty for being ‘a feeling being’.  So it’s no wonder I could never believe that other women would honour and value me. So I took matters into my own hands, learning to honour and value myself and as it stands today I’m at the juncture of acceptance and non-acceptance. I can accept when people are genuinely trying their best but I don’t need to accept when people are selfish or just take me for granted.  The marker for me is how I feel after spending time with someone. Do I constantly feel drained?  Or even if I have only got to reveal 20% of me, am I okay with that?  Sometimes I am and sometimes I’m not. It depends on who the person is.

I hear you but are you listening?

How many faux friendships are people having in the modern world?  Social media can be a minefield of pretentiousness and superficiality. We actually forget what real relationships look and feel like.  How many of us are pretending to ourselves that people care for us, yet we bemoan constantly about others not being there for us – yet still we tell ourselves it’s better than nothing.  Rather than having no one we would rather have anyone.  Even if that anyone is as emotionally available as a dishrag!  Women have been doing this for years in their romantic relationships and it’s the exactly the same with friendships.

I’ve always said the greatest gift anyone can ever give me is to listen – I mean really listen – not this pretend listening, where they just hear your words and then rush onto the next subject immediately after or bring it back around to themselves in some form.  My mother always spoiled me with physical gifts in an attempt to control me and buy my love.  She was always generous with money and present buying but I would have swapped all those gifts in a heartbeat for her to just simply listen to me, to give me space to talk and breathe and reflect back to me. This is worth all the money and presents in the world.

Sometimes in our modern world, listening feels like a dying art form.  Modern day communication is about short, snappy sharing – you share, I share and then we move on.  This is not listening – you might have heard the words but hearing and listening are two completely different things.  Listening requires space.  It requires that there is an open door to walk through and amble around and stretch the edges of who you think you are to meet the edges of who you know you can be.

It’s not very popular this kind of listening, because it takes skill – a considerable amount of skill. And it requires us to learn this. Most people haven’t the time or the inclination for this. But if it’s deeply sustaining and nurturing relationships – romantically or friendship wise – we seek then we must all put the time in.

When another is talking are you running a commentary in your own head about what you want to say to fix them?  Even if it’s done with a kind heart of wanting to help the other person it’s not really listening, it’s hearing them but you have covered over the nuances without realising. In a way it’s still about them and not about you. I personally don’t want solutions or fixing unless I have directly asked for someone’s opinion. Or are you thinking about what you want to say, or about your own experiences or story, whilst the other person is talking?  If you want to learn to really listen then the nuances are in the spaces between words, the energy behind the words, the body language, the tone of the words.  Can you be fully present with the other person?  Can you relax into the energy that the other person is emitting, even if it’s uncomfortable for you?  Or are you on a sprint to the finish line?

In a modern world where everyone is jostling to be heard and acknowledged, it’s usually Bam! Bam! Bam! from one story to another without any space in between.  No time to draw breath, no time to digest what the other is saying and another underrated skill of listening is reflecting back to someone pertinent moments that you witnessed, about them and not what it brings up for you. Let it be about them, time can always be created for saying what their words brought up for you, or any shared experiences. We can have a similar issue but no two people will feel exactly the same.   Reflecting back to someone is one of the most powerful and important parts of communication.  Sometimes even just a simple “I really hear you” said with love, can make all the difference.  I often feel people are bewildered, flustered or uneasy when I tell them my back story – where appropriate – or I talk about some of the ways I am healing myself. I think they misinterpret that I am looking for sympathy or a “good for you” pat on the back.  I’m not looking for either of these, but yes I am looking to be seen and witnessed. I can sense the discomfort which then in turn makes me feel uncomfortable and then immediately it’s about the other person again. I think so many people haven’t dealt with their own pain, they are so busy pushing it away or pushing it down into the depths of the basement that to hear or really listen to anothers pain is a source of anxiety or discomfort for them.

I feel like in way I was forced to learn to listen, I didn’t have a choice.  However, it did always come naturally to me but it wasn’t always welcome.  Others constantly told me things – long, long stories about themselves and their lives and I could always sense the gaps between and around the words that they spoke.  If their words interacted with their heart energy and sensing whether they were speaking from the heart or the head.  Most of the time people never really say what they mean.  They will tell you about a story or an experience and within the jumble of words they are really screaming “I am fucking hurt do you hear me?” Why don’t we all just say that? We need to own our pain before we can let it go, instead of relaying a story and then ending it with “but it’s all good” or some other pointless act of disregard. Because how can it all be good? If so, you wouldn’t be taking the time to tell me this.

For me, meditation and silence are very beneficial but I can also find myself and my way out of any perceived maze I’m in through talking. By just being allowed to talk without any interruptions. Because I am a loquacious person by nature but often forced to just be a pair of ears or use my voice to comment only on the concerns of others, I feel my voice has been silenced over the years.  It has never been allowed its full extension.  I have felt that my own physical voice has been papered over and when I do use it it’s usually to offer someone guidance, support, or nuggets of wisdom. It’s often only fully let out of its cage when I am with my partner, he is utterly magical in his commitment to allow me to ‘be heard’ and for my voice to be witnessed. He will let me meander, roam and often ramble away until I find that piece of white gold I am looking for.  It’s always like a healing experience to be allowed space to roam in. I have had so many ‘Aha!’ moments in this open space, so many discoveries about who I am in this golden silence that he provides.  Sometimes I’ve talked in circles and been blundering through sentences, but then the energy shifted and I knew exactly what I needed to do, everything suddenly became crystal clear. The open space was my guide.

It takes long hours of listening and sometimes years of listening to really ‘understand’ and ‘get someone’. People think they know you when in actual fact they don’t, their opinion is based on their perception of you which is understandable when so much remains unsaid, when people rush on with the urgency of one story after another without any bus stops in between and then what usually happens is the words eventually slam into one another causing a head-on collision.  Getting to know someone is a delicate dance of unraveling.  It takes time, effort and commitment and often with a truck load of tea and cake involved!

Hearing and listening have become my most over-used muscles.  If I were a body builder I would have rock hard biceps with severe lactic acid build-up and be incapable of lifting another weight ever!  And sometimes even with the best will in the world I think “Oh god, here we go again, another listening session where I will have to listen more than I talk”. I leave the so called ‘therapy session’ and whilst they are flying I’m left feeling drained and exhausted. I don’t want to do that anymore.  I am a person who has so much to say and not just by simply reciprocating on someone else’s issue. I am tired of living a muted life.  It’s just too much to bear any longer. I need to express myself – it’s a pre-requisite.

I also acknowledge that perhaps others might find it hard to give to me because they think I don’t need anything or that I’m a one-woman show. I’m not.  But I am an only child, forced to be a loner for endless years who had to deal with everything herself. I never had the luxury of support, so often I don’t let others in, not because I don’t want to but because it’s my default setting, or I doubt they can really listen to me or the pain I share.  That, coupled with being knocked sideways over and over again by the weight of others expectations and the intensity of their problems, makes me feel that I’m probably not as effusive about any struggles vocally as I would like to be. I’ve been burned so many times when I’ve revealed aspects of myself and my life only to be disregarded or abandoned. I tend to shut down when I know there is not the space for me to be heard, when there is not the equality I seek. Sometimes I need coaxing out of that space, that I need to know it’s safe to reveal and obviously that requires awareness on the other persons part. I always deeply appreciate when people try to get to know me and try to give me what I need. This always means a lot to me.

I often find it interesting that if I’m angry or in a bad mood or I have some issue I’m dealing with friends will avoid me like the plague instead of doing what I would do and say “Are you ok, you don’t seem to be yourself today, what’s up?”   Sometimes I need to be drawn out with questions.  I really love people I know to genuinely ask me questions – questions about my life and myself. It doesn’t even have to be that deep – sometimes even the basics will suffice as long as it’s natural and not forced.  I’ve always taken an interest in the details of other people’s lives but it’s not always been reciprocated.  Maybe people feel it’s prying, but if you are asking them questions surely it should be an open invitation that they can do the same to you? It seems obvious to me.

I’ve always found that people have a vested interest in me continually being a beacon of light, or an inspiration to them.  But if I’m not my absolute best self then it’s of no interest to them – they feed off the light I offer like vampires and if my light is lying in the shade for that day then my role is defunct, they don’t want to hear if I’m having a bad day or I’m going through something.  But I don’t have to engage in that energy any longer. 

I have decided this year to give myself the equality I seek. Every day without fail, especially the times when I feel lonely or abandoned, I try to check in immediately, offering myself kind words and affirming to my inner child that I hear her, that I’m listening to her and that I will never abandon her like my mother has done to me.  I tell her over and over again that I will never leave her and I will always support her.  Forming a relationship with this vulnerable part is so important.  It’s the groundwork for healing the ‘mother wound’.

My wild woman within no longer has any interest in being ‘perpetually domesticated’ or being seen as the sweet, good girl anymore. Or being seen as the gentle healer.  I have gentleness but I also have fire, a mountain of volcanic fire that I would like to use to cut through bullshit and fakeness, to use to create the life I want and impact the world for the greater good.  I’ve spent my whole life doing things I don’t want to do, for others who don’t give me the appreciation or reciprocation I deserve.  It’s just not something I am prepared to do anymore. I am tired to the bone.

Maybe people will think I’ve become hard or call me harsh but that’s okay, I don’t need to please anymore. I am sure in time I will find balance in my sweetness and my fierceness.  Why can’t I be fiercely sweet? My free time is the most precious, abundant commodity I have, I want to use it wisely and only with people and experiences that I have 50-50 equality with – not an 80-20 discrepancy. If I want to support someone I will, but only because it comes from a full heart. This is something I think every over-giver must learn. Giving because we feel we have to is a no-win situation for anyone involved. Don’t let anyone make you feel bad or guilty for wanting more and for not having the energy to tolerate lack of depth or fakeness any longer. Part of healing the mother wound for many women is no longer feeling guilt for wanting more in their lives and refusing to stay small in order to be loved and accepted.

Giving back to myself is the only way I know I can create the energy of abundance in my own life that I feel I deserve. I need to take up space in my own world first and then it will follow through to everything else.  This ‘mother-wound’ will fully close in time and it’s usually when one has completely let go of needing something that it’s then free to enter our lives in a beautiful, unbroken line of energy. Any wound we still have is an opportunity to heal to become whole again and ultimately this is a gift.

So whether this healer was a 100% correct and people will leave my life for new ones to enter, or whether he was incorrect – I’m ready either way. I have so much to give, and to give to the right people in my personal life is an honour and a blessing.  I have so much I want to offer the world but it always has to start in our own circles before we can have the sustainability to give consistently in the outer world.  We need those allies, those friends and especially those sisters that we find and gather around us who know our strengths and our weaknesses and love us anyway, providing a safe haven where we can grow and flourish from.  I wish that for all of us, not just myself.

 Equality begins within before it can spread throughout the world.  Check me out on Instagram.

On the Brow of a New Beginning.

As I prepare to celebrate Saturnalia and its many delights, the yearly life review continues. I am filled to the brim with gratitude for the year that is preparing to retire.  I have become lighter in body and mind.  I have unburdened myself from many of the elements and people that gave very little to me yet expected the world in return. I love myself enough now to have boundaries, to say the internal and external No and also to state the clear Yes.  I know exactly what hinders me and what enhances me, both within myself and outside of myself.  I don’t care much at all about being liked and in certain circumstances I don’t care at all.  I only care about what allows me to thrive and creating that in my life.

I am deeply grateful to anyone who has read my blog, my writing and my instagram posts over this last year.  Expressing myself out in the world has been such a big celebration for me.  People have been telling me for years that I should ‘out’ some of my wisdom. I never felt ready until this last little while. And even though I started this blog as a way to reach and connect with more women this hasn’t happened in the ways I had hoped – yet!  I still believe it will on some level and perhaps not in the ways I expected.  Even if you read my blog and didn’t like or understand it I still honour that you showed up and you took the time.  That you were curious and open enough to peer in and it’s absolutely okay if you didn’t like what you saw.  We are all unique and each person must find what works for them.  In writing this blog I wanted to share some of my struggles, some of my triumphs and to share that I wholeheartedly believe that we are all in this together.  I am for all women who are opening their hearts, wanting to not merely survive but to thrive in a world that is often not supportive of that.

I am so happy and grateful to the people who have enjoyed my apothecary creations and keep coming back for more.  Thank you so much.

I am also deeply grateful for those in my life who have supported and encouraged my writing and especially my two beautiful friends, Tallulah and Jade who have both taken the time and commented consistently on my blog and the content of my posts over and over again. It means such a lot to me that they have supported me like this.  I began this blog not just to express myself but for us women to create a dialogue, to create discussion to meet around the cyber campfire and share, not just moan about how terrible life is but to objectively share our difficulties, our abundance and our gains.  To see where we have been and where we now want to go in our lives. 

There have also been those people in my life that have not even bothered to read or support my writing and my exploration into the big cyber world. And even to those people I am deeply grateful because I have finally decided I deserve more than just the crumbs in friendships and this is not something I am prepared to allow anymore. It’s been a huge learning process for me.  If you aren’t interested in my creativity then you are not interested in me, simple as that.  My creativity is who I am, or at least a very large part of who I am. One does not separate the other.

I have also received on several occasions the comments from people I know that state: “It’s very long or it’s very wordy”.  As if I should somehow rectify this immediately so to accommodate them and the world of any verbose tendencies. I happen to love the English language and as a child I was continuously undermined, criticised and bullied for being wordy: “Oooh, swallowed a dictionary have we?” Well yes perhaps, but maybe you should swallow one too and then we could converse!  I shut off this side of myself for many years – unless with people I knew very well – almost ashamed of my ability to be effusive and boundless with my words.  At the end of the day its all about expression, language is a beautiful form of expression and I’m not about to go around shouting whatever colloquialism is being bandied around at this current time just to be accepted.  I love the nuances of language. Language nurtures me and allows me to find understanding and voice the plentiful ways of my emotions, thoughts and feelings. 

I read a thing recently about how to be a successful blogger that said: “Simplify your language, you don’t want to alienate people with big words!” And my response to this is that amazingly there are many, many intelligent people who love language and if they don’t know a word – just like when I don’t know a word – they will go straight to the cyber dictionary and find out. Not all people are stupid or lazy, contrary to popular belief!  Many of us just want to express ourselves.  I often have to smile wryly to myself – especially as these are often the people who take up so much space with their own looping dramatic stories that there is little room for me.  I’m sure it would be more convenient for them if I made myself smaller to accommodate them or the world at large, make myself more amenable, and pour all of my vastness into a sound bite, a short, snappy phrase or a meme.

Not a chance in hell! I refuse point blank. I’ve clawed myself up from beneath the soil to stand on this earth, from a place that dictated that I stay quiet and pretend to be powerless. So I am not about to make any apologies for any lengthy posts or writing I might share.  I’m done apologising for who I am.  I’m taking up space here and now on this page and I celebrate that. I have given myself permission to be seen and heard. If you don’t like it I honour you, it is absolutely your choice and there are millions of other articles and writers that you could tap into.  I genuinely hope you find what resonates with you.  We are all on our journey.

So for the time being I am staying firmly put until such a time I decide I don’t want to do it any more.  This last year has been a wonderful irrigation process, it was occasionally messy and I was drenched with my shit, other people’s shit and wading through the sewer was not an environment I was that enamoured with.  But it needed to be done and I did it. And I came out clearer and, after I hosed myself down, a lot cleaner!

There is so much creativity, ideas and intentions percolating within me that might not spring to the surface until after the winter and I am fine with that.  I will make sure these dreams, ideas and intentions are tended to, fed and watered and nurtured with mineral rich creative soil. 

I have been immersing myself in the quantum field.  I believe we and everything in the universe are linked at a subatomic (quantum) level so we have access to any state or healing we desire.  This is now being explored scientifically but it’s something healers, visionaries and gurus have known for millennia.  I have been working on creating my life at a subatomic level, changing the energy in my cells through visualisation and through working with the universal love in the quantum field.  It’s very exciting and as I continue to study science I learn to bridge the gap between science and spirituality from a broader perspective.  I also think in the next year or two I might be ready to resume my healing practice.  I gave up being a traditional healer due to the fact I was operating from a ‘wounded healer’ energy as I had not given back to myself.  I had not filled myself up first, so I was continually operating from a deficit, a place of lack where I became more and more depleted. I know that there will always be people drawn to me for the healing space I create from my own filled heart without me even being always consciously aware of it.  But having stronger and more robust boundaries is always what is needed to be able to give more effectively and not become chronically depleted over and over again. I have written a whole book about my experience of this, that in the next year I would like to get out there through my own website, along with three other books I have written. Will keep you posted!

I cannot help but be a healer. It’s not something I have any control over, despite trying to shut it down within myself many, many times.  All throughout my life people have always told me things, whether I wanted them to or not – often complete strangers that generally want to share with me intimate details that they don’t share or haven’t shared with other people. They see in me a space to be held and seen.  And whilst this is a beautiful gift to offer others it can often be draining.  I saw being a healer as a blessing and a curse at times.  And whilst I am not an endless tap and I don’t want to get into patterns where people consistently offload without space or awareness for it to be reciprocated, part of my journey in this lifetime and particularly this year is that I AM a healer – it’s a simple as that – even if I don’t choose to charge for my services, it is reflected back to me day in and day out.  I cannot not be one, so I may as well embrace it but in a more empowered way, on my own terms. 

As this is the season of goodwill don’t forget about yourself!  What about goodwill to oneself?

If you are like me you love giving presents, spreading love and joy, giving hugs or whatever it might be. But don’t forget about yourself.  What goodwill would you give yourself that you would be willing to receive?  There are many things or elements we often know we want to let go.  But what element would you really like to bring into your life?

For me in 2018 I would like to continue deepening my experience of embodiment, of allowing my sensual and sexual self its deepest expression, allowing my creativity to continue to burst forth in ways that are congruent and joyful to me.  I will continue to develop and explore the quantum field perhaps even finding ways that I can pass onto others.  I will continue to learn and grow from love.  Allowing more and more downloads of light and love to enter my system and my physical and etheric body.  I don’t want to operate from that old paradigm that I am broken and need fixing.  I am not broken and never was! Yes there was a schism that needed to be bridged but even if we feel separate from life and it feels irrevocable, we are not.  We have to be willing to apply ourselves, to do the digging and sifting and then life has all kinds of rewards waiting for us.  And how about we give ourselves a reward, not just a new dress or physical item but an elemental item?  Something that will help us grow, something that is sustainable?  How about we give ourselves the freedom to say no, to say yes, to say I don’t know and do what we feel called to do. That’s a start.

The New Year is calling us.  What element do you want to bring into your life in this coming year?

The Inclination of Germination

As another year prepares to rest its head on its final pillow, as usual I find myself drawn inwards.  My thoughts are surveying the year I have just experienced, personally, professionally and globally.  For so many of us the year has brought much growth. Sometimes we have been pulled kicking and screaming into the waves of change and sometimes it has sashayed gracefully into our lives because of the work beneath the ground we have engaged in.

Women everywhere are gathering strength, bulldozing the barricades of what is expected of us, forming a conclave where the sheer will of refusing to be immured for a moment longer has created a clear and inescapable dialogue of what will be not be tolerated, in the name of work or personal lives.  Women all around our mighty planet are discussing the right for boundaries, safe spaces and the need to be seen for our intelligence, talents, skills and knowledge – not just a walking vagina or a space that men can thrust their unresolved ego desires into.  

We need to support anyone who has the courage to tell their story in a world that has taught us women to be small, feeble and play ‘nice’.  It’s time to stop playing ‘nice’.  Nice had almost pummeled us to the ground. Being ‘the good girl’ has distracted us from our power source – our vast hearts, minds and spirits.  We have had to learn endurance – our history has sold us no other path.   And we have learned much from the women who have gone before us and now it’s time to be a direct light for the women who will come after us.

On a personal note, 2017 has been an incredible period of germination and flowering.  I was forced to face and sit with many elemental forces within and around me.  Sitting with physical pain for six months taught me more about myself than I could have ever imagined.  It taught me that my brain, my body and my life had been programmed to just accept that pain was what I was born with and I must endure it.

Physical pain has been a constant since I was born. Being abused from an early age and the consequences of being hospitalized from the resultant physical harm and then developing earth-shattering migraines at three years old was a programming that had been hardwired into my body, brain and cells.  The script was: “Oh pain is your familiar, get used to it, that’s all you deserve”.  And whilst we will experience both physical and emotional pain over and over again in our lives to whatever degree, it isn’t my lot in life.  It’s just a belief that was held in submarine territory in my cells, strangling them to death. When physical pain happens to children from such a young age with no capacity to reconcile it we are left to formulate our own conclusions – which invariably translate as “I am being punished, I deserve this, I am bad”. 

Sometimes we have to give ourselves permission to allow pleasure and joy into our lives because it’s not as rooted for us as it might be for some others.  It doesn’t matter how much as an adult we believe in peace, joy, pleasure and fun.  If that trauma and those stories are still padlocked into the tissues and cells of our body, we need to find the key that will lessen and eventually disintegrate its grip.

What I have realised more and more is that whilst sharing our stories, going into the pain and becoming embodied are the core work of our growth as human beings.  As Einstein said: “No problem can be solved as the same level of consciousness that created it”. This is a mantra that has followed me around for thirty years, this is the reason I sought to learn more and more about spiritual practices.  As a young child I could see clearly into the insides of people, I could see and feel their pain as if it were my own.  I saw flashes of what happened to them in my own mind’s eye.  I could see deeply into their hearts and even when specifics and details of their lives were witnessed by my healing heart, without words ever being spoken, I knew that inside we are all very similar.  The minutiae might change from person to person – the dark gravel of the stories – but the core remains the same for all of us.  We seek love, the love of ourselves, the love of another, the love of the universe, to give and receive in equal measures. 

Love is a universal force. It is a healing force.  And it is there for us all.  If only we will take up this torch.  It probably won’t just land in our laps, we will often have to go out into the spiritual or emotional arctic circles to find what we are looking for.  Sometimes we have to go out into the cold to find the warmth again.  We have to love ourselves enough to want to express the unique blueprint of our existence in this lifetime – to express our uniqueness.  We might all require the same or similar elements in life but the way we express that might be different and that’s the beauty of allowing our uniqueness to be seen and witnessed.  We were meant to shine, even if our family and life patterns contradict that.

So when we are faced with pain of any sort we have to find the level above it.  It doesn’t matter what you call it: God, spirit, love, universe, joy, peace, happiness, flow or ease.  When we clear away our patterns, our programming and our pain, then we must fill that deep empty ravine with something else.  Nature abhors a vacuum and if we are not careful then we keep on clearing and digging and shifting and if we don’t refill then we often end up replacing one set of problems for another.  Or there may be an empty hole where our past might have gone but we are still just a free space where anything can drop its load into, whether that be a person or an energy.  We have to have the awareness of what we would like to fill that space with. 

Love has always been the guiding light for me, the force of my life.  My heart was born open – there was always a sweetness and a delight that drew many to want to take from that.  And like many of us, I snapped it shut through years of unbearable pain. But still it never fled – it stayed right there with me, showing me and guiding me from beyond its crucible.  It was a source of unbreakable strength, even through the years when I wished my life would end it never deserted me. It still allowed me to feel the universal joy that was my divine right, even if it were only for moments here and there.  Still it never gave up on me, the flame beneath the surface, never allowing me to give up, showing me time and time again I was loved and supported, even if I didn’t always feel it.

I am so thankful for that.  There is so much pressure in our world to be successful.  But how do we define true success?  It’s not how much money we have, what house we have, or how many followers we have on social media, or how popular we are.  These are not the things we will be concerned about on our death beds.  Its how much love we have in our hearts.  How many people die of heart attacks year on year?  The statistics grow bigger every year.  Their own hearts attack them because they have lived a life without self-love, without deep connection to others or to the ineffable force beyond words.  I am deeply successful not because I put myself out into the world but because literally every day that I wake up I have love in my heart.  Even when I am ill or grumpy, love might not be bobbing around on the surface but be sure it will not be far away, holding me, encompassing me, teaching me more and more about myself and about life.  That to me is true success.  That is what I will think about when I am nearing my transition from this life to the next that above all I loved and I was loved.  How do you define success?

The Colours of Dreams.

I have just returned from a holiday on a rugged, powerful volcanic island.  Being immersed in the heat and the fecundity of nature and more importantly being ‘in the light’ and in the florescence of the sun has had a profound effect on me on many levels. I felt like it penetrated my soul deeply.  But with that comes the release of the sediment, the turbulence surges to the surface.

Even though the many volcanoes on the island are inactive, the power generated from them was an elegantly subtle force yet directly fueled with potentiality. The landscape was a mixture of blacks, browns and yellows, all crowned with a hypnotic aquamarine sea. It was ragged and roughhewn – I found it captivating and mesmerising.  Early on in my stay I received a very profound insight, very pertinent to my current circumstances. After that I became absorbed in the holiday spirit of sensory pleasure, eating, swimming, letting the sun kiss my skin, exploring the terrain, resting and enjoying every aspect of life away from home.

The street where our hotel resided was called ‘Minerva’.  Minerva is a Goddess archetype that has been a symbol of my creativity and forward motion for almost 25 years.  I once had a music band that I named after her as well as a publisher many moons ago that was interested in publishing my poetry which was also called Minerva.  So it felt like synchronicity, unbeknown to us until we got there, that our hotel was positioned on Calle Minerva.

Minerva is the Goddess of poetry, medicine, wisdom, strategic warfare and the crafts.  I felt her presence – her whispers to me were bold to begin with and then softer yet still nudging my consciousness with her sharp fingers.

One of the insights that slid up from the crust of my consciousness was that I had swallowed my fire – to be a nice person I had figuratively swallowed my own fire.  The tectonic plates of my own soul shifted in alignment. They merged in agreement. Electricity was created and I could no longer ignore the charged particles around me igniting in the air.

Being in the luminosity of light highlighted to me in volcanic proportions exactly what greyness still pervaded my life. And more importantly what grey souls pollute my life with their fear of moving forward and their fear of looking at themselves, yet all the while pouring every ounce of that fear and ignorance all over me and anyone else in a two meter radius.

I work around a lot of addiction and there is a darkness to that that seeps in and takes a foothold, clinging on insidiously to those in its wake.  The good girl part of me spouts words around the dirty canvas around her about “acceptance, tolerance, compassion”.  But to step out from that situation for a time, I realised that I am fuming in the most elemental sense that my own volcanic nature is smoking and raging and the lid has been pushed down, so it’s all become stuck in my body. I have been taught that to be a good girl – a decent person – I must ‘enable’ other people’s bad behaviour because “Oh well, they can’t help it”.  So I must tread on eggshells so as not to antagonise those mistreating themselves and those around them because that’s what nice people do! 

Well, I’ve done that. I’ve done the tolerance, the compassion, the pushing down my own needs, the acquiescing, the supporting, even the moaning and the speaking out and still I am fed the message that I must take on extra because the people around me haven’t got the courage to take responsibility for their total disregard of their own lives, for the fact that they have let the darkness swallow them up and that they are extinguishing their own light on a day by day basis. 

Many years ago I was a Buddhist actively following their teachings and even though I am no longer one, there is one teaching that stuck with me, which is that ‘Saying no is often one of the most compassionate things we can do’.  They explained that saying yes to others bad behaviour is not helping them, it is enabling them to carry on hurting themselves and hurting others. How is that compassion? That is not true compassion.  We are fed and forced to swallow so many false beliefs about what compassion is, what support is, what tolerance is. Maybe that’s all part of it, a strategy to stop us from really stepping into our own power by plucking at the well-defined heart strings of us more sensitive souls.  So we cover that up behind layers of cement in order to function in a demanding world.

So my adventure to a volcanic island became the focal point of just that, exactly what I have put a lid on in my own life.  All of the life force that is simmering underneath the surface, smoking and puffing away that desperately needs an outlet. The fire in me is tired of being stymied.  It wants the full range of its movement.  It no longer wants to be confined inside me.

How do we swallow our fire?

There are many ways we allow our fire to be submerged.  Physically we often do it with junk food or drink. We can even do it with good food, simply swallowing too much for our stomachs to cope with. This is very taxing for our bodies, our livers and our energy.  It literally dampens our fire.  We can do it with addiction – all kinds of addiction from smoking, taking drugs to drinking excessive alcohol pushes down our fire into the furthest corners of our being until we become numb and our hearts closed. Emotionally we can do it with being around people constantly immersed in drama, who have a myriad of issues in their lives that they refuse to deal with or try to change, who consistently moan about their lives bringing those around them down to their level of misery.  We can court drama ourselves, or constantly having to or choosing to care for others that leaves little or no time to care for ourselves.  Spiritually we can do it by ignoring our dreams, discounting or overlooking the nudges we get, the frustrations that build into atomic levels, not allowing our creative or sexual natures to flourish and expand.

Being away from my routine for nearly two weeks allowed me a space to be just myself that I have not had in a considerable time – no one required supporting, or being tolerated, in fact no one required anything from me.  There was absolutely nothing for me to do but be my absolute self.  I was free from the responsibility of constantly pouring my energy into ungrateful people and situations. That felt so liberating. Sometimes it feels like being at war, having to constantly protect oneself or deflect others inappropriate or mindless energy.  It’s interesting that Minerva is also the Goddess of warfare.  One can be at war without even realising it!  It takes a lot of energy to be in protection mode.  Cell Biologist Dr Bruce Lipton says in his book ‘The Biology Of Belief’, that a cell cannot be in both protection mode and growth mode.  So it translates that as human beings made of millions of cells, when we are in protection mode we are not growing or moving forward because we cannot be in both states at the same time.  If we are in protection mode a part of us is closed down, it is not open to growth or expansion.

I once had a profound dream that has stayed with me ever since: I was flying, I often fly, and I flew over a body of water with a tiny island in the centre.  There were three or four people who were on the island and they were safe there and yet they decided to wade into the water.  In the dream I didn’t want to help them because I was free, I was in my element, I was on my own expedition to wherever I wanted to go.  Yet it became increasingly clear that these few people were in trouble.  I didn’t want to but I flew down to assist them and they were too heavy to fly with so my foot and leg became submerged in the water.  Soon after my lower leg became septic with a wound that would not heal, it just kept bleeding and bleeding and I knew I would eventually die. 

As soon as awoke I didn’t need any translation, any explanation as to what this meant to me.  I instantly knew this was about my lifelong predilection of over-giving.  If I had ignored them and simply flown over – they actually would have figured out themselves that they were safe on the island. I would have been able to really spread my wings and carry on flying, I would not have become submerged, septic and overburdened.  The problem is not helping others – the problem is doing it because we feel we have to, because we had swallowed the guilt pill, whether that comes from deep inside ourselves or others. 

How much do we tolerate in our life in the name of being a good person?  How much do we ‘settle’?  How much do we diminish our own light because we are afraid to be daring, brave and move away from the situations, people and things that do not support our growth?   All because we have been fed hyberbolic statements and beliefs about what we must be to be viewed as a good person.

Well, fuck that!   I know I am a decent person and that I have a huge heart, I am kind and supportive and I have compassion and tolerance.  How do I know that is true? Because first and foremost I am learning to be those things for myself.  If by being compassionate I am compromising my own mental health, physical health or anything else then that is not true compassion, it’s someone else’s version of it.  And why should I dedicate any time or energy to supporting others who don’t want to help themselves?  What a waste of energy.  If you want to extinguish your own light then that’s up to you, I am only responsible for myself. How many times have we helped others when we didn’t have the energy to and we ended up sick, or with a bad back or an ailment?  It is clear I need to employ Minerva strategies to forge a plan to move on from the ledge of this volcano out into the world.

We need our fire.  When we swallow our fire to be a ‘nice person’ or become what others demand us to be we are betraying ourselves.  We are not supporting ourselves.  Our fire is the alchemy underneath the flame.  The flame is responsible for our creative nature, our sacred feminine, our sacred sexuality, our power as women and human beings to move mountains and shift the minutiae of our lives.  Shoving down my fiery nature because others needs are more important than mine is not being compassionate or supportive to myself.  And it has to stop.  But only I can stop it – by saying No!  It doesn’t have to be dramatic but it does have to be a definite internal no.  Others around me don’t have to know that I’m saying no, but they will feel me disengaging from them and their drama on energetic levels and if that makes them angry or changes their attitude towards me, then so be it. I will never be able to achieve my own dreams if I am entangled by the lower energies of others.

Being around this greyness has infiltrated my own dreams about my future. What we see around us tends to be what we end up believing about life and what we deserve.  If there is pain and misery all around us, we tend to believe this is how it will always be.  That life will always be difficult and foreboding. I have already left behind a life of darkness and trauma, yet here I am still allowing myself to be immersed in the drama of others, often swallowing my own life force or being told to swallow it to be accepted.  I have all the help and support in the world for those who are brave enough to face themselves and face their own crap but my patience has finally become worn out from those who choose to stay bound by their own traumas and projections.  

The dreams I have for my own life need to be activated in technicolour.  And just like Minerva’s whispers, strategies have to be put in place to achieve the life that is beckoning me.  What we ‘see’ around us has a direct effect on our consciousness.  Allowing oneself to fully believe in the power of the light to lift us up and keep our batteries powered has become increasingly important to me.  It is said “that which we are waiting for is also waiting for us”.  I want to walk towards those dreams with a full heart, not enervated and dwindling, with a bleeding leg from expending all of my energy on others. Sometimes we have to leave people to fend for themselves, that we must metaphorically fly over them, lest not be submerged and wounded from attending to others needs.  Even though as women we have had it drilled into us that we are made to care for others – and it’s true we are very good at this and it is important but there is more to us than being a care-giver or tolerating the intolerable.  It feels like we have built our ‘support muscle’ up to the exclusion of all else, to the exclusion of our other dreams, of stepping into our power, of creating a better life for ourselves based on the integrity of who we really are.  We are so much more than what society would have us believe about our skills and strengths.  If you have a dream it’s worth honouring.  If you have a dream to be more than the small threshold of your life – that is worth honouring.

  What colour are your dreams?  Check out some of my pictures on Instagram!

Rise Pele Rise

Women are rising up.  The critical point is here.  We are joining together at the foot of the volcano and shouting: “Me too!” We are supporting one another, sharing our stories of abuse, mistreatment and invasion around the public campfire.  The molten lava is flowing and we are no longer going to be submerged, breathless and speechless, into the abyss.  Our voices are being heard – our pain and struggles have a platform to breathe.  We are not going to go quietly into a corner any longer. Our fire is spitting out and it cannot be ignored. We no longer need to struggle with this alone. 

This is not a man versus woman thing, or an excuse to hate men.   There are many decent men with beautiful intentions and hearts to match that want equality and who want the abuse and violation against women to stop.  Men that want to use their finely honed and healed masculine protective skills to support women to rise up, encouraging them to break free from the subjugation that has etched our past.  We can do it together, all of us.  I have never believed feminism means excluding men. I don’t believe any doctrine, movement, philosophy or otherwise whose premise is based on exclusion can ever create lasting change.  There are many men raising their awareness to include questions such as:

 “How can we help?”

 “What can we do better?”

 “How can we learn from this?” 

Creating a dialogue like this is healing in itself and I am deeply grateful to these men and their inherent sense of responsibility.

Unfortunately there are many men like the disgraced film mogul Harvey Weinstein in our world.  And as abhorrent as his behaviours have been for the many women that have been subjected to the invasion of their precious womanhood at his disgusting hands, something beautiful has emerged, something solid and cohesive.  The volcano erupted all over our social and emotional structures and we can now begin to build anew. Justice is demanded.  Being made accountable for ones actions is compulsory.  We will not be immured for a moment longer.  A shift is occurring.  And whilst there are still many millions of women in the world who are or have been forced to acquiesce much of their freedom and power to a cause, patriarchy or a setting that does not honour or acknowledge them, (and indeed inflicts violence, torture and invasion on them daily), my hope is that with this rising a new morphic field will be created that will gather energy and speed to create in time valuable support for all these women still on the firing line of the unhealed masculine. 

It is so important to voice our stories.  Our stories are the energy behind the flame.  If we are not allowed to voice our stories then the anger of the subculture implodes in upon us, creating lasting damage.  It is equally important not to define oneself as a victim. We are not our stories, yet if we ignore our stories we never really break free from our limitations – they just remain in a private security system that can never breach the walls.  A victim is a disempowered state of being.  One can still have been victimized yet become powerful and activated.  But we can only heal by voicing the unspoken, even if it is just to one person of our choice, or a group of close friends.  The pervasive shame that women feel about being violated is so destructive.  We blame ourselves, even if not on a conscious level but on subconscious levels it really hits into the decaying pages of our historical library that speak of annihilation and heinous torture and invasion for just being women, for just being the beautifully fecund, wild instinctual creatures that we are.  Is it any wonder women feel a sense of guilt as if it might somehow have been their fault because ‘we are too much’?  This is a scenario that is commonplace and we have been programmed to believe we have to swallow it and just get on with it. 

In certain facets of the world wide spiritual community there is also often a shame attached to voicing one’s stories. Replace that thought with a positive one, so we are told. Goddess forbid we voice anything less than attractive, pretty or fluffy.  So many of us who have taken the luxury yacht into the waters of The Law Of Attraction often find out that it doesn’t work or that it is a lackadaisical process that requires much more energy and time than we have available to us.


Only about 7% of communication is done through actual words, the rest is through body language and other unconscious modes of programming.  It is what is held within that is running our lives.  Our subconscious mind is a million times more powerful than our conscious mind. 95-99% of our lives are run by our subconscious.  That is why I believe affirmations and manifesting techniques can have limited success rates for so many people.  Our subconscious beliefs are either working for or against us, our subconscious mind supercedes conscious control.  If our subconscious programming is not set to ‘success mode’ then most of what we do will have a limited effect or change in our lives.  The subconscious mind is also always on, communicating and creating our lives when we are busy doing something else.  I have also found that in my experience those who advocate the ‘only positive thoughts and statements’ school of self-growth are often very stuck in their lives, fundamentally afraid of their own emotions and still thrashing around in endless mud, with the same money, self-worth and creative issues as everyone else.  If it works for you then great, I am genuinely happy for you, there are many ways up the mountain and what works for me might not work for you.  And I am not advocating we all walk around in endless doom so as ‘to be real’, spouting lack at every corner of our existence.

What I am advocating is that we share our stories and struggles around the metaphorical campfires just as many native tribes would have done.  Often when things are voiced then we can go about the business of delving into the energy behind it, of releasing it from a cellular level and a soul level so that we can truly heal. Words alone do not heal.  But by exposing our truths we can start the process of putting it to its resting place on a personal level.  And even if we do not want to keep talking and sharing our past traumatic experiences, we can stand as a beacon of light and power to enable others to share and create a support system for those still struggling with the damning effects of abuse and violation.  We really are all in it together, the quicker we realise this, the more space in our society will be created for structures that enhance us instead of diminish us.  I urge you to share your most pertinent wounds and pain and allow others to really see you. It is not a weakness to admit you have suffered or are still suffering. It is a strength to realise that you hold the entire spectrum of experiences in your heart and you choose only what will influence you in the future.  Granted, not everyone will want to listen but there are many of us out there who will acknowledge and honour where you have been and remind you of the power available to you to transmute the past and the endless possibilities that the future could hold for you. 

The Goddess Pele is both the destroyer and the creator.  She is responsible for creating an awakening in us on a personal level and a more global level.  Sometimes things have to hit rock bottom for us to change, for us to expand, to stand up and say “Enough!” or to join together and say “Me too!”  Honour your Me Too, and always know you are not alone. The Us Too can create lasting change in our feminine landscape. This is how we awaken.  We awaken by refusing to stay asleep, we ignite and kindle by refusing to stay silent about discrimination and disproportion of our gender. 

There are many amazing, brave, steadfast, intelligent women who have gone before us who have spoken out about injustice and abuse and we can stand on their shoulders and let those learning to speak stand on our shoulders in an unbroken line of sisterhood.

Awaken the courage, strength and truth inside us like the bubbling, core of the volcano.  As painful as it is sometimes things need to be destroyed to be created afresh.

Rise Pele Rise!  Check me out on Instagram!


The Body Mingles With The Cosmos

There are many rivers that twist and turn within the estuary of becoming a fully embodied woman.  It is in increments that we heal and become whole.  Sometimes we feel the obvious progress and other times we feel thwarted and stuck.  But one thing is clear: we can never do it without coming back into the body, without feeling connection and love for our own bodies. Not the faux kind of love however, where you proclaim you like the way you look or that you love your body but your behaviour or demeanor says the polar opposite.   

Of course there are many days that we feel so drained or burned out that we don’t have enough energy to even blink, never mind participate in self-care or an ‘embodiment’ practice.  I would say these are the days and times that we need it more than anything, to restructure those neural pathways that have up until now led us to believe that we can just abandon ourselves and our needs just like we feel the world, or others in our world have done to us.  We need to rewire those pathways, where we know that we can be there for ourselves every single day and especially more so when we feel exhausted, lonely or we feel unsupported.  We can learn to embrace ourselves and form an unwaveringly firm foundation with exactly what we need.

I believe the first layer of learning to love ourselves is by coming back into the body.  This sounds easy, but for most of us it is jarringly complex.

What are embodiment practices?

A beautiful way back into our bodies is just to move the body, to stand up and gently sway. To circle your hips, sway your arms with small gentle movements, to feel your body undulate, to feel the joy She feels to just be in the flow, to be given permission to move. Allow the body to convey to you how She wants to move. Movement is the language of the body.  Listen to your body, engage your senses, what do you feel, see, smell and hear?  It doesn’t have to take long and it doesn’t have to be complicated, just gently moving or shaking your body all over and then more vigorously if you feel able to, can have profound effects on how we feel. It can also disengage the fight or flight reflex thus interrupting the stress loop. We tend to over-think self-love and self-care believing that it has to take up all of our energy and time or that it will be very complicated.  It feels a little like being a human snow-globe, the sediments inside having settled causing pain, low energy, anger and grief. Then, by shaking it all up, everything comes alive again. Our cells enliven, we become vibrant again, we drop back into the body and out of our heads and we can move through our feelings without the mind holding on and creating more dramatic scenarios carved by our ego that speak of eternal lack and everything that’s missing from our lives.   

You can also hold one hand over your heart and the other over your womb space and just spend time listening. What is present?  What needs to be addressed? Asking questions such as: What do you need today? What can I do for you? How can I love and appreciate you more?  How can I bring presence and joy into my world today, even if it’s just for a few moments? Breathe into your heart and then feel that energy flowing down into your womb space and pelvis, feel the energy spreading throughout with every in-breath and out-breath, breathe from your womb space, infusing her with love and gratitude for the ways in which she serves you.  In many cultures our creativity is linked to our second chakra, which is located just underneath the bellybutton, the space that births human babies and human projects.  When our creativity is blocked, more often our physical reproductive organs are also not functioning optimally either.  In Tantric philosophy, the womb and cervix are directly linked to the heart.  When our hearts are blocked then more often than not our reproductive organs will be blocked or malfunctioning too, and a whole host of hormonal issues will ensue.  As we open our hearts this has an effect on our womanly organs and our hormonal balance.  Our bodies are apt to give us bold messages in the form of physical pain, discomfort and anxiety so it takes time and patience to really listen to the subtle whispers of the wisdom of our body – She will not be rushed.  But with practice we begin to discern the messages from Her and the ones from our minds or egos. We have to open our hearts to ourselves first.

Moving meditations, or empowered dance sessions, can be a really beautiful way to honour our bodies and begin to build and activate our senses. How often have we partaken in exercise regimes or yoga classes, all the time parading around our minds, grilling ourselves about how we look, or being preoccupied with getting the right moves or steps down pat?  Embodiment is the complete opposite to this. We sense into our bodies to feel where we are holding grief, tension, anger or fear and when we find it we simply allow it to be there, bringing our full presence to it and then accepting it. This is real love. The love of the Self. This is what gentle allowing is, when we can just let our emotions flow, without making them concrete, without making them so overly significant that we become completely inflexible. Our heads will tell us: “Oh you feel like this because so and so did this to you, or so and so left me blah blah blah”. And whilst this is the mechanism of the Mind – to hold on – this is not how the body operates.  The body doesn’t want to hold onto the constructs of the mind, that torture us daily about what we should have in our lives and what a failure we are because we haven’t.  The body just wants and needs to flow, to release in its own way.  If we cannot feel comfortable with moving our bodies then our hearts also have a difficult time remaining open.  Even if you are disabled or have been injured and could only move the end of your finger, or raise your eyebrow, then bringing as much consciousness and presence as you can into that one part would in time have deep lasting effects on how you felt about yourself and your body, no matter how limited it was considered by the rest of the world.

I have talked about embodied self-massage and anointing the body with luxurious oils and unguents in previous posts so I don’t want to repeat myself but the body loves to be touched with presence and love, rather than just slapping our body or face cream on with little mindfulness or presence.  Our bodies love us to really honour it, to honour our faces, our skin and the entire length and breadth of our glorious bodies.  It doesn’t have to take a long time, even just a few minutes of conscious massage can be a wonderful revivifying practice and can help to ground us back into our bodies.


How much gratitude are you willing to have for your body right now?

Our bodies hate it when we judge it, when we tell it it’s not slim or sexy or rounded enough.  Or it’s too old, creaky, saggy or wrinkled.  When we believe we should just cover it up in a black sack so we don’t have to look at it and others don’t have to look at it.  The body loses power and strength when it is ferociously judged. Even so called innocuous statements we tell ourselves about looking tired or that our hair looks shit are registered as an attack.  Everything that is not love the body registers as a blockade to its capacity to flow. The body loves it when we are grateful.  When we can allow gratitude for every single amazing thing it does.  Because for many of us women we can walk, bend, dance, run, jump, produce eggs and birth babies. We can also connect with another body of our choice, and allow our body to give us immense pleasure and joy. Equally importantly, it accompanies us all throughout our journey on this earth, if we are able to connect with it.  Do we ever take time to really feel gratitude for what it does for us?  Gratitude allows us to receive.  Our body wants us to receive it.  To allow it to be the fully sensual being it is. 

Thank your body daily.  Thank it for exactly the way it is now.  If we want to change our bodies then we must first be grateful for it in the here and now.  Our bodies are actually very adaptable to change and working together as a team, we can change it to reflect how we want it look, without pummeling it to the ground with 3hr workouts and plates of lettuce.  But first we must listen to what it needs from us.  It will tell us readily if only we take the time to listen.

Being in ‘right relationship’ with the physical body is the first point on our journey to wholeness.  And the She requires us to be in presence with her daily, not just once in a while, but to show up regularly with our metaphorical lycra poised and ready for action.  She also requires to be fed and watered not by the substances we have forced upon Her but what she is actually whispering to us to feed Her.  How many times have we forced a diet or regime onto our bodies, a raw diet, a vegan diet, a paleo diet, an exclusion diet, without even a conversation within to ask Her what it is she wants to eat or drink? What will make Her thrive?  What will make and keep her balanced and in optimal health? What will help her live a long healthy, vibrant life?  Have we ever even tuned into Her to ask before we took our armfuls of supplements because We believed it would make us well?  For the most part it didn’t. In our learned arrogance to command dominion over our bodies we have forfeited the deep, abiding wisdom within our bodies.  Our bodies can never lie, if they are not happy, they will constantly relay this to us over and over again in the hope we will listen. I know I have enforced diets and regimes many, many times on my poor body and suffered the dire consequences of further imbalance and diminished energy because I thought I was knowledgeable about what I should be filling Her with.  I loaded Her with the best superfoods and super this and super that and none of it made Her happy – in fact most of it made Her sick.  Even if we have intolerances and can’t eat this or that, we can still check in and ask questions: What would it take to heal this?  Sometimes the body might want to go on a cleanse for a short while to rebalance but unless we ask we cannot assume that we know best or that anyone else knows best about our bodies. These are subtle forms of abuse that we do daily to our bodies because we believe we are clever and that we can command the body to do whatever we want it to do.  To be an empowered and embodied woman we must begin to learn to listen to the messages She is trying to communicate to us through our senses, emotions, or through any pains or niggles we have.   There is so much pleasure within our bodies just awaiting us to activate it.  And what if instead of pursuing the loops of endless chatter in our heads that speaks to us in anxious monotones about inexorable lack and disappointment, we got up and moved our bodies and dropped back into our feet, our hands, our pelvises and legs?  It would make the body happy and therefore at least some of our tension would melt.

Ask your body what exercise She wants to do.  You might find it changes from day to day.  Some days She might want to really ramp it up and other days She might prefer a more gentle form.  If you force exercise or an intense workout repeatedly onto your body without checking in first, She will eventually revolt in some way. You may get sick, you may get an injury, you might become plagued with low energy.

There are a lot of meditation practices that I call ‘masculine led’ because they teach us to leave the body, leave the mind, and that we have to transcend the physical to get to the divine.  I believe the opposite is true – that it’s through the body, the sensuality of our bodies, that is the bridge to the divine. This, I believe, is the path of the divine feminine. The divine is abstract,  ‘the out there’ is incomprehensible, it is ineffable.  But through the ‘in there’ we can began to slow down, to mute some of the mortal chaos we endure as part of our daily lives that tell us we must be this and we must be that. We can feel the divinity of our own bodies.  We have to tear down the mental scaffolding that we have erected that keep us from being in the body.  We are not meant to be disconnected from our bodies.  We are meant to luxuriate in the way the sun caresses our skin, the way the water dances off our bodies in the shower, the way our feet feel in our shoes or on the bare earth, the way our spine feels when we bend, the subtle sound our bodies make when they are in motion.  There are so many beautiful pleasures we miss out on when we are not in our bodies. 

We are hardwired for pleasure and joy.  We are sensual beings.  Being a vibrant woman, switched on and turned on to life itself is our birthright. We are not meant to be dull, tired, with our soul bloated from the excess of pain just sitting beneath the surface of our inner lake.  Dragging our bodies around from one situation or pursuit to another without any presence can increase our anxiety levels and chip away at our low self-worth.

Whenever I meditate or dance or move I allow myself to come back into the body – I feel my spine, my skull and everything in between. This is my entry point to my connection with divinity. I don’t follow anything that requires me to leave my body consistently. The body is our anchor. Our roots go deep into the earth through our core and deep into the cosmos through our crown chakra.  We are the cosmos and the cosmos is within us.  Our body mingles with the cosmos in every single moment. Enjoy being here and now in this amazing body – it is your divine birthright. (check me out on instagram)!

Unruly Spirit


As a teenager and in my early twenties I was the archetypal ‘wild child’.  Rebellion was my only true friend and we clung onto one another for dear life. I was a defiant, mutinous individual who was angry at the world and herself and there was no way I was ever going to take the advice of another, whether it was right or wrong.

I remember in one of my many office jobs, my manager was perpetually wringing his hands in mild desperation at my ungovernable ways. I just couldn’t help it and more importantly didn’t want to. He used to say: “I was the most unmanageable person he had ever managed!” He meant it as a compliment because I challenged him in a good way and he often had no idea what to do with me or how to handle me.  I was never a rude, aggressive or a thoughtless employee – I was a great team player and being kind and respectful is important to me – but yes I do find it difficult with imposed rules, especially if I see no sense or benefit in them.  I was and always have danced to the beat of my own drum.  Being an ‘only child’ meant it was a lone path that was formed in my honour and one that I didn’t question. I trundled along it with gusto, happy to be master of my own destiny.

Rebellion is often romanticized to the point of exhaustion. And sometimes we believe that it is relegated to the few artistic individuals who have forged their own path out in the world amassing wonderful success and notoriety but that it’s not for the ‘normal folk’. We will just vicariously live through others fancy footwork and hopefully just gaze wistfully at the trail they have left behind.  We often wish we could be braver and bolder in our lives to break out of that self-imposed casing.  Society tries to make us all the same so that it can govern us, manipulate and enforce the views of the few in power onto the perceptive vision of the ungovernable among us. Little do they know we don’t acquiesce easily.

There is a dark and a light side to rebellion.  To a Rebel any form of restriction can feel hellishly like being plunged into a straitjacket.  Even things that we know are good for us can feel imposed, like life is pinching off our life force at the source.  There is often a huge gulf between discipline and rebellion.  It’s either one or the other.  But really is it that simple.  Can’t we be both?  Can’t we be disciplined and rebellious?  I’ve never understood why we can’t straddle both polarities.  Why are people so desperate to put us on an index card and file us away?  Why can’t we be a polite rebel?  Or a kind-hearted raging Rock chick, or a glamorous spiritual healer with a penchant for pink stripper shoes!  There are so many possibilities and variations.  We are so much more than others would have us believe.

We all have a collection of different parts or characters within us that are waiting for the right music to bust out their moves and express themselves.

Like many of us, throughout my whole life people have tried to define me, to put me in a box and shut the lid tight.  Any contradictions were met with hostility or blinkered disregard, or sharp and stony envy.  The amount of times I’ve heard the phrase: “Well that’s not very spiritual”.  As if I should be levitating out of my stripper shoes, fingers positioned in a mudra, sipping fermented yaks milk, whilst reciting Rumi on a loop.  It’s so amusing and also irritating to have such a slim set of parameters set by others about how or how not we should be.

And also this can automatically trigger the Rebel. We have the ‘middle finger’ constantly poised in our mind’s eye at such damnable limitations!  What an offence to the very fabric of our existence – we think.  And the rebel goes “oh who gives a fuck anyway, they are the limited ones”.  Of course the ego often loves the rebel because the rebel is often tainted with a history of alienation, innate disappointment in others and abandonment issues. The rebel has perpetually been misunderstood and thrown brutally against the margins of society.   It can be a messy default setting that sets us further apart from life and others.  This is not a life enhancing form of rebellion, doing things because we feel unconnected to ourselves or others.  I know I spent a large proportion of my life feeling misunderstood and on the sidelines of life, operating from a deviant perception of the world around me.  The beliefs that taught me that I was not acceptable or that I was too much for the world I lived in. This is not an enriching set of guidelines to outline our character by, or paint our lives with.

How do we make a conscious Rebel?  Or make the Rebel conscious?  Make her mindful and thoughtful – yet thought provoking – and above all how do we make her work for us?  We were all born equal but not all of us are on an equal footing, due to lack of consciousness, muddled belief and thinking systems, unprocessed and unresolved past matters that still run riot in our mental corridors. I believe to make anything work for us it must come out of the cellar and stand on the same flooring as us.  We have to be conscious and aware of its motives and the plan it has for us.  And the two must coalesce.

How do we step out of the confined margins inked by others?  It’s not about achieving some desired external greatness but about achieving some desired internal greatness because that’s available to all of us, no matter who we are, where we’ve been and where we come from.

If there are situations or things we need to do that we are not doing, for example giving up bad habits, or staying in situations that are one dimensional and that are not life enhancing or self-love promoting, then our inner rebel is self-sabotaging us or she’s gone deep undercover and we might need to become a detective to smoke her out.

Sometimes we have to go into the muddy waters and bring her up from the depths.  And sometimes we have to dampen her fierce, biting diatribes that urge us to leave others behind and stomp off into the sunset, smarting and alone.  We have to know when and where she will be best suited.  If we let her the Rebel is intensely and exquisitely loyal, she will stand by us no matter what.  She will raise the dead if we will only let her.  She will forge ahead even when we are reluctant, fearful or doubtful.  Being a rebel doesn’t mean we will be devoid of fear, but that we can use that fear as fodder to propel us where we need to go.  That little bit of extra Duracell fuel to keep all the plates spinning and the markers of our life wider and more expansive.

The world needs rebels.  We need the right mix of rebels.  The conscious Rebels have a finely tuned bullshit detector, they know where to put their energy and that not every situation or person is worth investing their time and energy into. They are discerning, wildly instinctual and they guard their creativity with the fervour of a rabid dog.  The conscious Rebel has high standards and puts every heart cell into their soul art.  Conscious Rebels bulldoze through boundaries and overcoming personal limitations is paramount to achieving forward movement.  Everyone can embody the Rebels energy to use as we see fit and that is in congruence with our values and beliefs.  It need not be dramatic and explosive – it can be a slight and subtle shift towards wholeness.  Even small moments of choosing not to allow others to define us or diminish us can bring a surge of power in our lives.  It’s often the small details that slowly build into a bigger pool of dominion.

The Rebel likes to say no but what some don’t realise is that she also likes to say yes.  She likes to engage with life, to be present and vital, keeping her reserves fully polished, at the starting block for when we might need to sprint, the added stamina to pursue a goal without flagging or giving up.  She also likes to have fun, to dance in life’s rhythm but with her own notes and orchestral arrangement.  She is also kind, thoughtful and yes, even polite.  A rebel can have manners too – she doesn’t have to club people over the head with her views and opinions, or only maybe once in a while!!  She can talk with confidence on what she believes in and if others don’t believe the same it does not threaten her own sense of value.

I love my rebel and I wouldn’t be without her but sometimes I need to keep her in check. The Rebel needs a certain amount of order, even if she hates it. I can’t achieve anything in a maelstrom of chaos.  The trick is to work together in synchronicity, neither one dominates the other. I realise when she is acting up that I need to take time to understand her motives and what she needs from me.  What will keep her happy and therefore keep me happy.  Sometimes the inner rebel is beyond tired, she just wants to kick back her heels and sit on her bum and recharge and when I let her she will often tell me how much she needed that and then she’s off into the next realm of personal revolution that is cultivating inside me.

Sometimes the rebellious spirit does have to stand alone, tending to the gravitational pulls inside of her but she is not lonely, this is just what needs to be done.  The work is done alone and we can re-group with others to share around the metaphorical campfire our stories about overcoming our struggles, understanding ourselves and opening our hearts. 

Osho once said that creativity is the greatest rebellion in history.  So I urge you to stoke those creative fires and keep a light under those dreams.  The ones that speak of a desire to make the world a better place, to spread light into every corner and especially where it is needed most.  Our world needs conscious rebels of all kinds, shapes, colours and sounds.  Don’t mute the Rebel, she has some interesting truths to tell you if you are brave enough to listen without judgment and then follow through with her precise wisdom.  Feed her, water her, keep her warm and above all keep her curious, we don’t stay curious by doing the same things over and over, we stay curious by leaving our comfort zones and setting the world alight with our creative fires.  Even if people don’t like us or what we do, they don’t get to define us. It’s our choice.  We get to decide who we want to be and what we want to bring to the world, no matter how small we feel our contributions might be.

 We were all born original so don’t let society turn us into a photocopy.




I don’t know about you but I am an engineer.  If you think about it we are all in the building trade.  I believe we are all architects of our own reality.

Even if we don’t realise it we are all in a never ending process of tearing down decrepit, crumbling belief systems and then attempting to design the layout of our new life. The relevant details that will keep everything upright – strong foundations, secure walls, and durable fixtures and fittings.  We attempt to construct with precision the layout of the desired penthouse in the hotel of our lives.  The brass buttons of what we believe will assuage all the murkiness, the heavy handed uncertainty and the sombre fears that run our lives.

I’ve been digging and constructing all year, tearing down plaster and interior wallpaper and graffiti written by others who barely know me.  Walls that were falling down by themselves anyway that then needed just one last push – and whoosh – down they came, crashing to oblivion.  I really put my back into it, digging through the dust and rubble.  I had become so tired and defaced from hiding behind layers of brick and mortar.  It was a very cramped space to reside in!

For the most part it’s been a rousing experience that has animated my soul because it was long overdue. My emergence into a place where my words, images, thoughts and desires are seen by many has been liberating.  I finally gave myself permission to be seen and the years of feeling gagged and invisible under the duvet of my archaic chapters has come to an end.

I think we all want to be the constructor of our own personal world that will then confluence with the wider world and to offset all of that with a degree of allowing oneself to be ‘engineered’ by life itself.  To flow with the stream that carries us forward to higher states of being.

However, one thing I have noticed lurking in the corners and nestled neatly under the surface of my consciousness, is an anxious steam cloud, puffing away on its own. It’s not as innocuous as it seems. The more I plough my creative furrows the more it actualizes itself. It’s a low moan, a croak in the voice that sometimes is barely audible to my ears, a sound that remains as an afterthought of my personality.  It seeks hidey holes and to cower behind my legs like a lost child, but it is not lost it is skilful and competent. 

I never thought I was an overtly anxious person apart from perhaps in new situations – like everyone I can be shyer than I actually I am.  But to discover the revelations that I harbour an anxiety that is like a perennial weed was interesting.  The more I snooped around under the covers, the more I could smell it, taste it and hear its bottom-most tones. I sniff the tightness in my body, the grasping and craving, the automatic treadmill programmed to say “in perpetuity”. 

What an intriguing concept to unearth, that this thing called ‘anxiety’ was trying to out maneuver me.  Once I had properly introduced myself it was now easy to taste its many flavours and predilections, brewing under the apparent outward coverings. I knew its concoctions, the plans to chip away at my energy, my worth and my hope.

It has to be monitored like an unruly vagrant with a propensity for piracy.  What I have realised is that when I really put myself first and when I priortise my own self-care regime, then the mutters of distrust slink away, disrupting its power at the nub.  I believe all anxiety is a belief that life will not be kind to us, the mistrust and disbelief in the benevolence of the universe.  And this will not be remedied in a single sitting.

I personally don’t believe that any of us come into the world with an inherent trust in themselves or of life or of the vast universe we reside in.  For most of us we must chip away at all the mistrustful monsters in the cellar of our consciousness until we find enough spiritual amino acids to build that muscle that will hold us above the waterline with one bulging bicep. 

I find all the possibilities and avenues I could march down in my day overwhelming.  The dialogue that storms across my mind like a crazed sprinter that shrieks about all of the pursuits I could do.  But what shall I do?  Shall I write, make things, paint, work on myself, alchemise with my oils, post on social media? Can I fit it all in?  And on and on the list goes. And sometimes I’ve ended up frittering my time away because I couldn’t make a decision or I would force myself down a creative corridor that was blocked off because it was being renovated and the rooms needed airing.

I know this might sound banal – “Oh who cares that she doesn’t know what juicy creative pursuit to embark on” – this not a first world problem! But actually it is widespread. This inner chaos and lack of focus pervades many professionals and creatives alike and it is insidious enough that if not checked and brought to the surface it grinds happily away at our precious life force, draining all future hope of peace and flow in our personal worlds and beyond.

And of course there is a dark side to it – like many of us my anxiety comes from a tormented and challenging past. An anxiety that goes back to a time when we perhaps couldn’t trust that we would ever make it out of the strife in one piece or if the continuous bleakness would subside and we would ever see the sun again.  Our safety parameters were shot to shit and unless we have that order in our lives then our fight or flight goes haywire, trampling all over our nervous system in a misguided attempt to keep us safe.

Anxiety doesn’t believe we can ever trust life. Its job is to keep us separate from life. It is not a villain but its behaviour can sometimes be unscrupulous, ruthlessly pursuing us until we press the light of our foresight into its forehead.  Even if we have done masses of work on ourselves and transcended much darkness, there are still nooks and crannies that it can slide into and fester, suckling at our reserves.  Until we expose it to the most revealing light of all – the light of day.  Until we explain to it that we have a choice in how we deal with its insistence.  That when attend to our own needs first it does not have such a bold grip on us, it might still be there but it’s often not so disabling. It requires constant awareness and vigilance.  If not it will creep out of trapdoors and elevators when we least expect it.

I think almost all human beings – bar a select few spiritual gurus – are walking around in varying states of anxiety.  The whole planet is anxious.

Am I good enough?  Am I enough for the people in my life?  Will I get what I want? What will my future be like? Will I ever be happy or free or peaceful? Will I be able to leave this intolerable situation and if I do what will happen to me? Will I survive?  What will happen to our world? Will we blow ourselves up?  If I walk down the street or sit on the tube tomorrow am I going to be safe?

All of this foreboding is broadcast out in waves on the fins of sub-atomic particles.  It spirals all around us, forming the mechanics of the very world we live in – and the surge of impaired consciousness that blows through our world creates a fog in our lives, generating more and more anxiety. It is like exhaust fumes that blast into our environment with their life-decreasing chemicals – we are all affected by it but we often don’t notice it because it’s always been there but we don’t realise that it’s slowly killing us.   

Unfortunately most of us feel we can’t control the pervasive destruction going on around the planet as we speak.  But we can interrupt that old paradigm that tells us it’s all fruitless and we are going to be obliterated anyway so why bother? 

I find that if I immerse myself in my self-care routine first before I embark on anything – whether it’s personal or professional – it creates an opening for myself, a channel that can re-circulate a repository of space within and around me to use as I see fit.  If I meditate, stretch or exercise, dance, use my jade egg, go for a walk in nature or whatever silent pursuit I have the time for then I return renewed, focused and seemingly able to achieve more in a short space of time than needling and pressurizing myself to create.  It also takes my mind off the hammering, anecdotal tales of the threat of world destruction that heightens everyday due to the propensity of certain world leaders to forcibly exhale atomic power into the belly of Mother Earth.

I think doing simple things like attending to the body, eating well, using natural extracts, practising yoga and more importantly giving ourselves the space to be silent – to just lie on the earth and stare at the sky with the abandon of a child, day dreaming about riding the clouds to a magical world – creates a flexibility and a space that might build and house trust over time. None of us know how long we will grace this earth so might as well find as much peace and joy in any moment we can find. 

The issue with anxiety is that it seems to really get off on us feeling confined and hemmed in.  When our minds are crowded into a small margin with no gap to stretch our psyche, our headspace becomes locked in a loop of future based interrogation.  We poke and prod our thought processes to the point of near collapse as we cross-examine ourselves, demanding that an accordant result be made available.  We take this exam time and time again until our heads literally explode.  The solid weight of the perceived ‘bleak diagnosis’ plays on the screen of our minds to remind us that there is plenty to be anxious about.  Anxiety rubs its hands in mirth at the prospect of a lifetimes worth of employment where we cannot evade its heavy taxes. For most of us the future seems like a tightrope from one skyscraper to another that we will never walk softly or lightly across.  For me the only way I can feel good about the future is by not projecting myself into it.  When I do, the unease can leave me prostrate and worn out from all the machinations of my mind.

I want to be free of the Future by living in this moment I have now, here with you, on this page.  It’s the only thing I know for sure I really have.  Sometimes I have to stop and take a breath, ground myself and carry on.  The forces in our world seem intent to bombard me with their voluminous agenda.  Sometimes it’s all any of us can do but just stop, breathe and reboot.  We have to disengage with all that noise, all that senseless chatter that goes on, in our own heads and on mobile phones across the globe!   We talk incessantly about mostly the wrong things, or the things that actually don’t mean that much to us.

I was creatively blocked for years, I didn’t write or dance, or paint or make things.  It was like a desolation of the soul and I couldn’t bare it at times, I felt like a ghost rider endlessly bobbing around on the saddle but with nowhere to go.  I was disconnected from that illusive force, the effusion that creates worlds, planets and creative projects.  It was a lonely existence.  Fortunately now the creative muse is with me most days, not because I’m special and it graces me a visit but because I’m tenacious and I stalked it and then did the necessary furniture arranging to allow it in.

I have learnt to construct a contract of non-negotiables, things that make me, my body or my life enhanced in some way.  Pursuits that bring me back to myself, that encourage me to be more connected.  These might be different for each of us, but when I can do the aforementioned self-care rituals, I fare much better and given time there is every reason to believe that I will actually flourish. As I build my trust sinew up brick by brick.

We all want certainties in life.  Unfortunately certainties in an uncertain world seem highly improbable but we can choose where we put our energy, into whom and what. We must never forget that cultivating our own power by attending to ourselves and becoming present, energized and raring to go will create a ripple out in the world, an energy that cannot be destroyed, even by the exterminators.

Anxiety has a lot to teach us about trust, if only we will listen. Anxiety need not be our sworn enemy – instead it’s a reminder that we need to attend to ourselves, to grow our trust from a seedling into a steady, formidable force of power.  If enough people begin to empower their lives by caring enough about themselves to really follow through with what their heart, body and soul are crying out for, how much might we surge forward leaving anxiety and self-doubt crumbling into a pile of dust?  How much more activated might we each become? How much might we begin to learn to trust one another? How much more inclusive, tolerant and open might we become towards one another? 

I believe it is only by loving, caring and accepting the Self that we can then accept another person or groups of people.  And also on the flipside just think what we would no longer tolerate from our fellow human beings under the guise of greed, religion, atheism or whatever hyperbole causes others to disregard our right to live on this earth unencumbered by disease, destruction and persecution.  Everything starts with us and ends with us.  We are the engineers of our life. What do you want to build?