Consulting the Oracle

Image hosting by Photobucket

From journal page today:

I said out loud in my mind – why don’t they see me like others see me?
And a voice inside me answered:
Because they do not have the sight.

The voice was real, it was low and comforting, and rose from above my right shoulder.
So I asked:
Is everything okay?
She replied with certainty:
Everything is okay. It’s better than that. It is wonderfully, splendidly divine.


Just finished watching What the Bleep Do We Know? for the first time.
My mind is doing somersaults and cartwheels and long loving leaps into the arms of the mysterious, beautiful universe.

Change your mind and change your life.

And watch this movie if you haven’t already.

: Life is limitless :

love,
Leonie

“Is it possible that we’re so conditioned to our daily lives, so
conditioned to the way we create our lives, that we buy the idea
that we have no control at all?

We’ve been conditioned to believe that the external world is more
real than the internal world. This new model of science says just the opposite.

It says what’s happening within us will create what’s happening outside of us.”

~ Dr. Joseph Dispenza

Guest Poster: Adam

Image hosting by Photobucket

Adam is doing a special guest poster night tonight. I asked him to think of the most inspiring thing of his day to post. He wandered off to consider this, and started watching Buena Vista Social Club. Presently, he walks back into the Re-Creation Room, laughing hysterically with a bloodied tissue stuck up his nose.

“Okay Leonie, I’ve got what I want to post.

I said to Chris:
Oh man! I just picked my nose so hard it started bleeding.

And all he said was:
Oh, we have lots of tissues here you know.”

And whilst this isn’t particularly inspiring by Leonie standards, Adam thinks it is. And that’s all that really matters, doesn’t it?

“I feel we are all islands – in a common sea.”
~ Anne Morrow Lindbergh

the impossibles

Image hosting by Photobucket
tree on the quest

I take adam for a bikeride this morning, intending for it to be a fifteen minute cruise down to the little lake near our house. But we get there, and he is unimpressed.

Leeeeooooniiiiiieeeeeeeeee, I want to go to the big lake.

No way Adam, it’s 30 kms away.

I don’t care! We can do it! Let’s do it Leonie!

N O! There is no way I can do it!

YES! Just do it! We can do it!

I submit. I think to myself – what would spontaneous Leonie do?
“Fine. You crazy military freak.”

Image hosting by Photobucket

I felt like I was at boot camp. He’d keep insisting:

You can do it! You can do it!

So we rode. And we rode. And we rode.
And we rode further than I ever, ever, ever have before.

I keep thinking: there is no way I can do this.

But as the road unfolds, and the wheels swallow the metres,
a confidence in me grows. Maybe I can do this. Perhaps indeed. Yes I can!

At the half way point we turn back – not for me – but to Save Adam’s Ass.
We sit by the road for a little while and I think:
I never would have thought I could have come this far.
I thought it was impossible.

Image hosting by Photobucket

I calculated it when we straggled back home {Adam got a flat tire 500 metres from home!} – today we rode over 30 kilometres.

Here’s to the crazies, to the misfits, to the ones who seek outside the box.
To the ones who don’t take no for an answer.
and to all those who are doing the impossible things.

blessings,
leonie

on a warm sunday afternoon…

Image hosting by Photobucket

my american penpal adam is back visiting us again. the dog is overjoyed at the prospect of having another person to simultaneously annoy/amuse/leap all over.
we are lounging in our re~creation room. soft music, golden liquid, books, talking. we decide to learn all about norfolk island and pitcairn island on wikipedia.
later, we will eat pizza and camp out in the tv space to watch what the bleep do we know.
we will sail. we will paint. occasionally we will debate the finer points of when a skeptic meets a hippy.

it’s funny you know – having known adam for ten years, he is the second longest standing friend i have. and yet our friendship has been founded on the small things: the monthly emails, his thin papered letters in blue writing accompanied with his poems and writing and the passport sized school photo of him {of which i still see when i look at him}. we used to talk about school, muse on what we would do when we were old.

and here he is. on my red couch, looking over his benjamin franklin book, my lover on the beanbag, charlie running from one to the other, and licking from adam’s empty beer bottle.

it amuses me this.
this instant adulthood, and the friends that last.

Move your sofa

Image hosting by Photobucket

Change swills and swirls around us like a gentle hurricane,
taking away the deadwood and leaving us to create a new life.

Yesterday we took deep breaths, gripped each others hands and turned off our pay TV subscription. For too long, it has been a bad habit for us. It swallowed up hours of every day ~ hours where we could have been drawing, writing, playing music, learning, connecting, sharing with each other. We want to create our own lives – not just watch someone else’s rendition of it. TV has been our smoking – our stinky bad habit we didn’t want to acknowledge or let anyone else know about. The thing is – we aren’t tv kinda people. We weren’t as children and somewhere along the line we fell into it. No more.

We moved our house around dramatically to force us into our new lifestyle. Our tv is now in a shrug of the kitchen/dining area where it isn’t comfortable to watch. The lounge room has been changed into a dreamy recreation room with a couch, beanbag, purple bookcase, our two computers and chris’ menagerie of musical instruments: 2 acoustics, one electric guitar, a djembe drum, a chinese drum, a ukelele, a wooden recorder, a didjeridoo, an electric piano and a peruvian flute.

Last night was both wonderful and a little bit scary. We sat facing each other: what to do now?
It makes me feel both sad, and hysterically amused at the fact that we have the room of our dreams, and are trying to figure out how to use it.

So we filled the bookcase with Chris’ CDs. I laughed as we walked out of our room to see the tv in the corner, blank and without attention: ha ha! We BANISHED YOU! I taunt. We held hands as we crept into the hallway to bring armloads of books from the studio into our new room. We listened to albums the whole way through. I beat madly on the djembe to a Ben Harper song, and danced to Yothu Yindi. We rescued old drawing manuals and sketched for a little while. And then I read outloud, with Chris’ arms around my neck. I turned to this page in the amazing Transitions: Prayers and Declarations for a Changing Life book by Julia Cameron:

‘Move your sofa and change your life!’
– Karen Kingston
When we change our living space, we change our lives…
Today I seek a spiritual alignment in my domestic space. I discard all that distracts me.
Today, I put my life in order. I emphasise serenity and beauty in my surroundings. I allow increased cleanliness to prioritise my thinking. I create an environment that knows my highest goals and aspirations.”

What a serendipitously, sublime and spot-on affirmation to turn to.

And the flowers? What of the pink lilies adorning my house?
The wonderful book Living Out Loud by Keri Smith inspired me to buy a bunch of flowers – for the very first time for myself. There is a calendar in the book to fill in – and one of the activities for the month is Buy Yourself Flowers day. I am so deeply appreciative of me for taking the leaps and moving the sofa that I chose pink lilies.

I know it will take some time to adjust to this new tv-less, book-filled and lily-filled life of ours. There is joy, breathlessness and a tiny piece of fear in these large steps – the ones when you first take the leap and wonder if your wings will take flight.