Monthly Archives: April 2006

alone but all together.

by Leonie Dawson on April 20, 2006

amarlia reminds me of a deity sometimes…

funny i look outside the window, and i see rain, but there is none
and somehow i know that there is a part of me in london, typing as we speak, she is looking out into the london rain, experiencing all of this and more. i wonder who she is, is her name leonie also, was she born the same way as me, does she watch the sunset light unfold out onto the street too. what is her story, who does she love, does she write, does she ponder, does she know?

i feel like wanting to be compassionate, because that’s me out there, that’s me in that woman in london, that’s me in sydney, that’s me in tokyo and some province in china.
somehow all the unique borders of me fade, and it’s not all about being leonie, it’s just all about experiencing this. it’s all about the seamless soul that knows no face, that holds tight to no situations or circumstance. she just IS.

i wonder… how i am all one, we are all one, navigating this world, experiencing all experiences.

i send a heart call to you. i see how we are deepening in this together. how we are waking slowly, stretching our limbs gently, and opening our eyes to a new world, a new life, everyday. do you remember me? i think i remember you. and i think i remember where we may have come from, where we might be returning, what we might be doing here.


the freedom of forgiving.

2 commentsby Leonie Dawson on April 18, 2006 ·

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last night at womens circle i was handed the talking stick. i usually KNOW what i will say. i have it all in my head, ready to be said in a pretty way. this time, for the first time, i didn’t. i had no pre ordained river of thoughts. i just sat for a moment in silence. i didn’t know what words were in me. i heard the pitter patter of rain falling on the roof. the drops before the rain.

i said:
i feel like something really big is about to happen.
i sat with that stick until the flood of words and forgiveness came.

like the drops before the rain.

…i am learning FORGIVENESS.
my friend donna asked me what easter was to me.
i hadn’t thought about it. i wasn’t the christian type. so i asked her what it meant to her, and she said:
and it sounded so enticing, that forgiveness thing, that i drank it in. it walked around inside me. it began to seep into old wounds, and new ones too.

i am learning to forgive my friends. even if i think they aren’t doing their path “right”. even if they might screw up. the right path and the screwups – these are only my own perception. here’s a thought – even though it doesn’t make sense to me, maybe they are doing exactly what they need to do.
i am learning to forgive my lover for the past. and i am learning forgiveness for the things i have built up inside my head. i am learning forgiveness of the rough patches of sea our relationSHIP sailed through.
and the big one – the forgiveness tree of all forgiveness acorns – i am learning to forgive myself. i can be so CRITICAL of myself in the past – who i was when i was a child, a teen, a young woman – even me ten minutes ago. sometimes i beat myself up – WHY didn’t i know things then? WHY didn’t i do things differently? sometimes i feel NAUSEOUS about the past and nothing having it “all together” back then. it only feels *safe* in the present and in the future – not in the past. i love myself, but i am learning to love myself unconditionally. without conditions. i am knowing that whatever i did, wherever i was, i was and am doing the VERY best i can and could do. and that i’ve never done anything wrong.
there is something very healing in this. so much hope and love and forgiveness.
it feels freeing.

i have never done anything wrong.

i have always done the very best i could. and it was perfectly what i wanted for this journey of mine.

i sat with that stick for a while longer. the words sung in the air. we all breathed together.
i passed my stick on, to my womansister. she shared a story of new friends and eagles. of a woman making a decision, and knowing that no.matter.what, it was all perfect. there were no wrong choices. knowing that it would be perfect either way.

what a relief to hear these words.

and so the talking stick moved on. releasing truths with us, into the night.

this morning there is clay stains on my hand from the sculptures of mothers we made together, drinking in chai, eating french bread and eggplant dip, laughing deeply, speaking softly into the gentle darkness that held us, as tenderly as a mother would her child.


i set these words free,
like a small bird in flight across an autumn sky,
or a lone orange leaf twirling.


goddess marika of the radiance

by Leonie Dawson on April 14, 2006

dearest rikki, marika,
woman of the mermaid hair,
the avalon grace,
the ethereal air.

your warm smile, hands, embrace, words.

i shared these pictures with my spirit*mentor.
she drew a finger softly over your face and said:
this woman has known sadness, but she also knows joy.

and you do. you beautiful, beautiful woman.

i wish for you to see yourself as we see you,
as the great goddess sees you and loves you.

you are a treasure to know.

as we sat beneath the tree, i asked you what you wanted from the photos.
you spoke in the gentle voice of yours, with the familiar smile not far behind:

i want to have photos of me i like.
oh, and i like ethereal.

you made me giggle.
and then you made me gasp.
as i saw you behind the lens, i began seeing you as being the epitome of that.

you were gweneviere, you were princess and priestess,
you were long ago and in the moment.
your eyes saw celtic lands i did not see.
mists rolled through.
i do not know if you knew, but i kept breaking into smiles, gasping as you BECAME you.

it was a miracle indeed.

thank you for revealing, showing, baring your ethereal you~ness with the world.

in love,