those who howl find their tribe…

i see you dancing in your own divinity

the words.
they don’t fill the space here in my heart that i hold for you.
and they don’t need to.

last night i met you.
you, my new tribe of women, the new circle.
meeting you was more like remembering you.

did you hear the howl i howled outloud in my studio for you?
i howled for all the women who were searching for their circle.
i think that howl may have been for me too,
because in your presence
i feel the flight of birds.

in each of you, i see a goddess.
stronger than ever before i see venus, athena, maat,
goddesses i do not know the name of yet,
but in this life they are yours.

as i smudged each of you, in my turquoise skirt, holding my smoking sage, i felt like a goddess sister deborah in the temple; but this time i was a sister in the temple of debra.

i thought of you all day today.
it surprises me ~ and it doesn’t surprise me.

in the hugs, i found the question:
how is it i know you?
but the answer is not simple.
i only know that i do. and that i have before.

i can only explain that we are all droplets of the ocean,
and as i deepen my understanding of this,
i find others who reflect me.
who feel like home.

i am in awe of each of you:
your beauty
your sharing
your big beautiful hearts
your BRAVEry
your opening

i witness the miracles of souls opening
and feel deeply blessed.

blessed be,

Dearest Sone, Spider Spiral Woman

sonya, red spider spiral woman

Thank you for this weekend. I miss you already.

I loved it all. The little moments and the big.

Sitting around the table, sharing by the light of the never ending triple candle.

Showing you our favourite bookstore. You, me and Chris all sitting on that wooden bench, delighting in the books around us.

All of us getting the hankering for ice cream at once.

That beautiful golden labrador who loved us just as much as we loved him.

spirit arms

I love that I found that feather, stuck it in my hair, and promptly named myself Brave Eagle for the weekend. I love that Chris became Buff the Buffalo. That it was only feasible to give Charlie the totem name of Penguin. And that you decided to name yourself the first animal that presented itself to you…
and that we were standing outside the asian grocery store, and you exclaimed:
hey look! a redback spider! oh….. hang on…
and we laughed.
we went home and drew our totems on each other’s arms in silver eyeshadow, and there they remain. Buff, Brave Eagle and Red Spider Spiral Woman.
i love that you honoured your name, just as it found you.

i love that feathers became an indelible part of our weekend journey. that everywhere we went, we found them, and tucked them into our hair. they became a part of our altar, our hair styles, and the way we danced through life.

sone and penguin laughing…

I love that you love my dog. And I love that he loves you so very much.
{What is it with you too? It is a past life connection indeed…}

i love that i said:
let’s play goddess dress ups
and you said:
i wish we were friends when we were five. you would have been a great friend when i was five.
funny, coz i think the same about you.
and i pulled out every piece of goddess wear i owned on to the couch, and we played dress ups.
i “did your hair” like i did my sisters.
we put on delicious makeup and bindis, collected a bundle of shawls and cameras,
and walked down my street like it was the most natural thing on earth:
just two goddesses, going on a picnic.
little girls on bikes stared.
we sashayed our hips, let the breeze ripple our hair and float our dresses.
just two goddesses, going on a picnic.
we spoke of our intentions for our goddess photo shoot.
i want to show my soul.
and there on a beautiful green field filled with tiny flowers and tiny bees,
we took photos of each other with an old camera. one that makes that satisfying clicking sound and asks for film.

afterwards, we just lay there in the grass. smiling and sharing and feeling like two earth mamas. the hours trickled by. it was dreamlike and goddesslike and all things i want in a connection.

we watched the sky for a while,
then we rolled onto our bellies and watched the bees.
the wind blew over us, and we were cocooned there, on mother gaia’s bosom, connected to every single thing on this earth.

when we got up to leave, we took this photo ~ and i think it says everything.
i felt so deeply in myself. i felt like we were speaking out of spirit. we were radiant again. we were reminded of our own magnificence.

remember how we giggled as we walked back to the house, and we both said how we hoped that the mushroom pate would be cooked by the time we got home? and as we walked up the stairs, the smell of mushrooms reached us, and I ran into the house to find my lover cooking it for us? that was magic. we can create exactly what we want sone spider woman… just weave our webs of intention, and watch it all happen.

remember how we played SARK’s Creative dream game…
and all these things came spilling out of us ~ truth, hopes, fears,
and REALisations that fell out of our mouths before we could scoop them back up and pretend like they didn’t happen. truths about procrastination and holding back and resistance to napping and ignoring our bodies.

and those two crystals… the sweet scented candles… the books in brown bags…

the bushwalk in the wetlands. afterwards, walking up to hanging rock, where we first met, you as my goddess of honour at my inner marriage ceremony. this time we were with chris. we went and sat on the rock again, looking out over the green valley, hearing the sounds of birds and trees and nothing else.
and when we looked back behind us, we saw chris sitting on another rock, his eyes closed, his head to one side, a peaceful smile upon his face. we ask later if he was nature dreaming. he replied: i was just listening… drinking it all in…

pancake breakfast.

chilled chrysanthemum tea.

mushroom pate and halva overdose.

waking up each morning and going into your room, to plop on your bed and start our morning that way. chatting and charlie.

I want you to know that I honoured our commitment to listen to our bodies more. Not just push through the tiredness in search of being more productive. This afternoon, I napped with him for the first time in a long time. It was a ginormous, gentle nap, and it was splendid.

my dear friend,
i believe in you.
thank you for being you.
thank you for the million magical moments.
i will carry these in my heart and spirit always.

love you,
brave eagle


tree at namadgi national park from last weekend’s walk…

for months now, i have skitting around my intention for the busi-ness of creating. perhaps it has been something i have not wanted to look at all my life. i didn’t allow myself the possibility of being an artist or writer after school – i did finance; studied at university doing economics and all manner of things for a while; became a public servant. but this life, this passion, this yearning called creativity followed me. it asked for my attention. it called me.

i stopped studying a year ago because i felt a deep need to leave space in my life for something to grow. i wasn’t sure WHAT wanted to grow, but only that i needed to honour space to grow in my life. and i did, and the seeds that had been nourished in my earth for years blossomed. blossomed more wildly than i had imagined.

i began working part time three months ago, and started reading “the seed handbook.”
i started doing all the exercises in it in my new blue busi-ness book, but came to a screeching halt when i got to the intentions section.

i participated in creative dream teams, and felt great big bounds of movement there. i said outloud: i really need to write to write my intentions for my busi-ness. it seemed like something to big to mount. i wondered what was stopping me.

i know now.

i realised today that the idea of having a creative business came with a degree of guilt or selfishness. i wondered exactly why i should expect to be abundant or rewarded doing something that i loved. i did not know how to resolve my spiritual yearnings with my creative desires to be successful. i couldn’t figure out the economics of how i could illuminate my own life and others and earn a living at it. it seemed selfish to put a price on my gifts that i wished to share. there seemed to be some underlying issue of: WHY should i earn money from this?

the understanding is slowly coming together in glowing moments. the insights come and leave again. i know it will come in the fullness of time. i need not push to understand the great mystery.

i can begin to write my intention today. i can begin to see just how spirituality, creativity and busi-ness can be interwoven authentically.

to be radiant in this world. to make a living at being the very best me i can be. it seems so…. natural. to create a living by LIVING.

more will come later… more insight, a fuller insight into just how inherently important it is for each and every soul to do what they love, and share their light with the world.

for now, i set my intentions, watch and muse.
i write letters in the candlelight. wrap my fingers around the arms of the man i love, and see how his sky eyes look into me. curl into bed with a book. let the rainbows pour from my fingers. go to bed feeling like a vessel that has fulfilled its daily potential, and is now empty, ready to be replenised by deep sleep and lyrical dreams.

and tomorrow, a goddess arrives. a blissful weekend saunters ahead, filled with sweet laughter, delicious vegetarian food, deep connecting, creation sharing…

splendid sharings:::
~ swirly girl’s stirrings
~ bohemian girl’s millionaire spirit
~ quantum awareness

the gush post…

speak with passion and others can
feel the power of your words.
stop making sense and
start making love.
sometimes i think speaking and dancing
were separated at birth
and are longing to find each other again.
~ ben lee

This week I have been blown over, again and again by Ben Lee.

First by his music – his latest album “Awake is the new Sleep” {cover above}.
Love soaked, aware, joyful music. Conscious. A collection of love songs to the universe.

Then by his words – through his blog.
Love soaked, aware, joyful words. His conscious journey.
His time in India with Amma. Falling in love with the world and with himself.

It is so beautiful to see someone outside of us doing this. Speaking this and living this.

Can I gush anymore?

“woke up this morning
i suddenly realized
were all in this together
i started smiling
cos you were smiling
and were all in this together
im made of atoms
youre made of atoms
and were all in this together
and long division
just doesnt matter
cos were all in this together”
~ All in this together, Ben Lee

other things i can gush over this week:
:: japanese fashion illustration:: thich nhat hanh’s “peace in every step”
:: india arie
:: sacred earth designs
:: posters from 1920s paris
:: wild earth art
:: watercolour paper
:: my gorgeous goddess sister sonya coming to stay for the weekend
:: nancy faulkner art
:: rainbows spilling on paper
:: josephine wall desktop wallpapers
:: the man i love and his blue sky eyes…

equinity and divinity

me and jeremiah, dec 05

the sound of a fiddle starts up…
and somewhere in the space between the music beginning and a song starting,
i get lost in the past. i find myself on the back of a horse, riding the dusty trails behind cattle on our farm near Bowen. i think i was 10.
the moments merge and fuse so closely together, it seems only a heart beat away that i was there. or maybe the two co-exist together now. that consciousness meets this consciousness.

i was a cowgirl when i was a kid. the smell of horses is still my favourite scent in the world. my little sister and i both have a peculiar obsession with the scent of our saddle shed – leather and oils; dust and years.
she and i would make up our own radio station as we rode along towards the cattle, singing songs, making announcements. SisterFM.

those were the days i remember in books:
the green wind
my story
famous five
i would stay up to the early hours of the morning reading obsessively.
the bookworm cowgirl.

i am a long way from home and the horses.
the books still remain, and somehow the dusty trails, the plod of cattle and the sway of horses has become embedded in me. the moments meld and interweave.
i am living the dream she dreamed of on that horse.
she is living the memory i dream of now.

“Spirituality is the sacred center out of which all life comes, including Mondays and Tuesdays and rainy Saturday afternoons in all their mundane and glorious detail… The spiritual journey is the soul’s life commingling with ordinary life.”

~ Christina Baldwin