Tag Archives: divine feminine

Following the unseen river

The sense of all these voices being tuned-in and innately guided towards an unrehearsed harmony that perfectly blended all the various pitches, the personal notes into one unified sound was quite palpable and, as it hit the ceiling, this magnified one-sound seemed to rain down on us and feed back into us all as pure energy…It seemed like I had followed an invisible flow to be here this night. I had been part of a river of great healing flowing freely, had witnessed something incredible, taken part in it, knew for certain something quite wonderful was well underway…. Continue reading

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Returning to source: a symbolic journey

To get to where I really wanted to be (which was the twin stone circles of Nant Tawr) there were obstacles…so many watery obstacles…I had never before experienced water as such a direct obstacle before and no choice to embark on the journey anyway; and what a gift it turned out to be…the natural landscape incorporated into the very ritual of reaching the place I was headed for. Like the double helix twists, turns and crossing points of my very own life experience across multi-lifetimes, I was both “already there” and “heading back there” in every moment of this scramble across rivers and steep banks…getting nearer and then further away…choosing it, aiming straight, losing sight of it again, finding it precarious, hard, painful even…then getting back on track, dumping any unhelpful baggage I realised I had accumulated, knowing when to laugh along with myself, remembering this “place” once again like a heart-song calling me, sighing with the exhilaration of being back there and the joy of realising I knew the feeling of it like an old friend as soon as I got even close. These experiences were looping and relooping around me like the very water I was crossing until I got the rhythm of how it happened, keeps happening, had been happening since the very beginning of human “time”, like a familiar series of intricate dance steps (yes, I was being shown my very own dance moves by these audacious strips of water). I was being taken through all the old manoeuvres, humiliations, lost-confidence hiccoughs and sticking points of my life until I got to recognise them for what they were and was, instead, able to concentrate on that other feeling of reunion and return…of being up there on the other bank in the sunshine, high and dry…over and above that old feeling of separation from what I wanted, scratching my head at so many seeming-obstacles spread out all before me. By the time I had crossed my final hurdle, with a broad grin on my face, numb feet and slightly soggy trousers, I was really getting it…because that something that was drawing me closer was so palpable to me that the exhilaration of the experience was everything and was carrying me forwards across endless golden meadow. Continue reading

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Go into the garden

Through our very actions, our softly treading footsteps into the secret part of the garden, we demonstrate how its not always about having to be in the heart’s racing pulse of everything that seems to going on at such speed and with such drama all around us that we feel, constantly, like we might be left behind. Rather, we go where the little girl inside us leads for she still remembers the way there, knows where the white rose always blooms. This is sacred knowledge and it is coming back into the broader consciousness, led by those who already feel it; by the heart. Continue reading

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In search of waterfalls

Something called me back to the Brecon Beacons and Wye Valley this year and I responded to it like a knee-jerk impulse (since we hardly needed yet another trip this busy year…), booking it almost before I had time to … Continue reading

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Making friends with pink

All my life, if offered a choice of something in a selection of colours, I would quickly exclude the pink from the running…like it simply wasn’t a choice; not for me. Too girlie, to stereotype, so many unfortunate connotations attached … Continue reading

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Painting backgrounds – a weekend of art films

For two hours, or thereabouts, on Saturday I was held utterly absorbed by a film and, straight afterwards, held interested enough to avidly cross-reference what I had just seen with some reading until bedtime. The film was called ‘Effie Gray’ … Continue reading

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