love sonnet to you

it feels fragile there,
on a leaf,
waiting for your wings to dry.
it feels fragile being outside of the boxes of mind.
it feels fragile leaving the tightly woven cocoon.

i feel it too.

each of us taking courageous leaps of faith,
leaving behind the dark warmth of cocooning,
to find the light.

each of us on our little leaves,
buffeted by the wind,
concentrating so hard on:
hold on hold on hold on.
each of us feeling
alone and small
and a teensy bit broken.

i feel it too.

but what happens if we stop looking at our grasping feet?
what happens if the butterfly looks around?

it will see that its shaking leaf is attached to a twig.
that twig forms part of a tree.
and that tree – that whole damn tree is covered with leaves.
and on each trembling leaf is a butterfly.

imagine that.
a whole tree of butterflies around you.
all feeling a little bit courageous,
a little bit unsure,
and a little bit just like you.

just waiting to take flight.

a whole tree of butterflies.


my tribe

Something magical happens when women circle. We share our stories – the stories of hope, suffering, change, transformation, pain, joy… and in these stories we begin to see ourselves. Each woman becomes a muse, an archetype, sharing the ancient tales of life.

We experience fear, and find the feet to move through it. We experience anger, and are allowed it. Our hearts break and mend. Our spirits begin to soar. Our faces are reflected in the warm light of those circling us. They know my stories, just as I know theirs. The joys are doubled. We become witnesses to the bounds, stumblings and leaps of the human soul.

Yes, there is deep relief to be found there, in the arms of a womens circle. We become our truest, rawest, most divine, human selves. We are no one’s lover, mother, boss, wife in those hours there. We are only ourselves.

This ancient rite of circling… of story sharing… of women raising light and seeing herself in every other…

Divinely protected, and always connected.


a hundred wishes swaying in the wind…

my feet are covered in earth.

when i walk, i feel deeply connected, energetic roots through my mind down through my curved belly, strong legs, wide feet.

i feel at peace.

for lunch, some friends and i had a picnic of vegetarian burritos in the enchanted forest of the park.

afterwards, we lay back, watched the streaming light through the leaves.

i felt deeply happy.

i felt in myself.

there was great bliss to be found there:

lying in the earth, gazing up at the trees and the sky,
being so aware and honouring the beauty that surrounds us
in each sway of the branch, each leaf falling to earth, each shimmering mosaic of green in each tree.

i felt real there…
digging my bare feet into the soil,
just witnessing these miracles unfolding….

what to speak about…

Image hosting by Photobucket
photo of me, by debRA…
this is what it feels like to be me lately…

do i speak of my light sensitivity?
the last few afternoons have been painful to be driven home in – the golden yellow light of sunset seems to strike me right in the mind… so painful i’ve had to curl up in the passenger seat, hands over face until we pulled up into the sweet relief in the shadow of the mountain by our house…

and then i read this morning of the pineal gland which registers light… and sits behind the third eye.

at women’s circle on monday, deb led us through a powerful and beautiful chakra meditation, i really FELT my third eye radiating and twirling and open.

open third eye… extra light sensitivity… to me, they seem intertwined.

if anyone has any ideas on how to be slightly less sensitive to light, but still be wonderfully in feeling with their third eye chakra, i am all ears. or eyes.


Light can be gentle, dangerous, dreamlike, bare, living, dead, misty, clear, hot, dark, violet, springlike, falling, straight, sensual, limited, poisonous, calm and soft.
~ Sven Nykvist

did you hear…

breathe ~ geishaman goddess
acrylic, dried rose petals, mixed media on canvas

did you hear it last night?
the unmistakable sound of laughter, reverence, connections, silence?

last night…
in the gloaming loaming of full moon
my women’s circle circled once more…

we shared and we meditated
and we heard the stories of the ancients,
the triple goddess,
and i learned of my chakras and
felt the twisting lily roots of the third eye
twirling majestically in my forehead.

i softly howled at the moon
and juliana said to me:
she who cannot howl cannot find her own tribe.

i wonder if you heard us
speaking of you under the full moon last night
we were standing on the street after
in the darkness, in the luminous glowing of distant streetlight
and a full bellied moon

i said:
i really believe in her you know.
the kernel of the goddess that hears me when I speak.
in you. in every woman.

and so on, and so forth, we spoke of you,
with love and reference and knowing and belief and tender care…

i really believe in each of you.

{P.S. If you’re:
1. In Canberra
2. A woman
3. Interested in joining the women’s circle
email me}