Janice Turner Salmon

Category: Wellbeing

  • Self Love

    Self-care is not a luxury, it is a necessity. It needs carving into the everyday. As ritual becomes daily practice we see that we are worthy, and we have needs to be met within the day as much as any other person around us. One question I ask is, what have I done of service today? And what have I done for myself? If the scales here are not so balanced then it is time for some self-care. I love to go for a walk by myself in nature. I notice that I walk mindfully when I walk alone. I walk slower and take in my environment. I hear, I see and I witness far more when I walk on my own. But are we ever alone? By that I mean to walking and witnessing animism in the everyday. This is to be in reverence that “Animism (from Latin: anima, ‘breath, spirit, life‘)[1][2] is the belief that objects, places, and creatures all possess a distinct spiritual essence.[3][4][5][6] Potentially, animism perceives all things—animals, plants, rocks, rivers, weather systems, human handiwork, and perhaps even words—as animated and alive” (Wikipedia). Taking this view into account the things we self create, the small craft projects crystal bead bracelets that make me go into that no-mind space, are those distinctly spiritual act of communion with the self and the world round us. From the herbal teas we make, ceremonially, to a ritual of washing my feet, a daily cleansing ritual, aromatherapy oils and the best homemade foot cream.

    So what are your self care rituals? What makes you feel cared for? What small acts of love do you gift to yourself?

    When we talk about self-care and conception this is where a full spectrum of physical health, as well as emotion, environmental and intentional routines are put into the daily care.

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  • Conception of Guidance

    Conception of Guidance

    In the free dictionary the word Conceive means to“ form a mental image of something “. We must conceive of a multitude of things in a lifetime. We conceive ideas, plans, and processes. We also conceive all our thoughts and emotions. And so this leads me to consider that I have conceive myself to be anxious. This is a prospect I am learning to come to terms with. If allowing myself to feel anxious, when I am not in any imminent danger, I am robbing myself of inner peace? Could I be feeling free of anxiety? I have been on a spiritual journey since childhood. I grew up in fields and amongst the tress in a small rural area. I was aware of the spirit of the land and nature from a young age. A counsellor once called me a feral child having had no adult influential learning to model discernment for boundaries. Maybe she was right, but in recent times I have come to the realisation that boundaries are not always cultivated by adults around us in our informative years. Then there is the spiritual path, the awareness of the otherly, the unseen, the imaginal, that can actually provide a level of awareness of boundaries.

    My perspective is that we all have a Guardian, a spiritual guide and when we allow, really surrender and allow the connection then the guidance is quite profound and present in the everyday. Many shamanic teachers describe an awareness within dimensions of the underworld, the middle-world and the upper-world. The middle-world being the here and now. Whether we identify with a physical knowing, a third eye inner vision of knowing or a deep listening to higher knowing, this is the guidance of the Guardian or Guide. When we have deep faith in this connection and relationship that is when the boundaries of the unseen can come to give discernment and assistance in this middle-world. Many spiritual paths have this unseen understanding, whether we call it the Nous like the Teachings of Mary Magdalene, the Spirit Guide, or the Guardian, the names are not so important as the faith that we are not navigating life here alone without inner perspective.

    When I take this unseen into the feelings of the anxiousness and stress it brings in some calmness. This is where I can join mindfulness meditation and guidance. This is my perspective of allowing in some self awareness of the present and also connect to what is available for my inner knowing and a calmer way of navigating the here and now. A practice of mindfulness is exactly that for me, practice. It needs to be practices not just as a mediation but throughout the day of being mindful and not skipping and leaping ahead to the chaotic thoughts of the steps ahead, the to-do-list getting out of control or the diary full of overwhelming actions if clumped together. Mindfulness has been a way first to recover and establish some sense of calm. Making time and space for myself is difficult and don’t get me wrong there are days when life gets busy. A practice of meditation is a routine, as necessary as brushing my teeth, to cultivate a living “Way” of being in meditation and prayer, lets not leave that out either. For me prayer has come after years of meditation, the hearing of my body, my spirit, I completely forgot about the asking part of spirituality. It is hard to conceive a spiritual based life practice without acknowledging prayer. After all if all I do is listening and not talking, I am hardly going to have my needs met! I don’t mean that by asking I am going to get something but in relationship to spirit and the Guardian I mentioned, if all I do is listen then I am on the outside of this relationship to myself.

    Whether you agree or not to the concept of a spiritual life, in the believe of spirit, living energy, consider yourself as spiritual being for a second. If all we do is listen , we do not have a two way conversation, we are only present half the time. For me the act of both listening and speak had come at a cost. I was always the keen helper, I am a nurse by trade. It was in my coding to be the willing helper, but after my stress and anxiety lessons I now develop and grow my own voice within my Way of Being. My stress is lessened when I am seen, heard and witnessed. By this exchange of inter-communication with myself with others if feels there is more of a balance in communication. We all have stresses and for me some of the stresses are from giving and not receiving from myself. Sometimes I do tasks that I just don’t feel up to doing, for others and for myself. So when this happens my self talk has to ask directly, “what is it you really want to do?” establishing some positive self talk can negotiate some boundaries and solutions for myself.

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  • Everyday Pilgrimage

    Everyday is a pilgrimage

    Every moment is a different space of Belonging

    Standing in your world is changing

    Over time Love is felt and Love is missing

    Within the Heart it remains

    To be Held

    Beyond this lifetime it is a knowing, a beholding

    Pull your feet into the space

    Of where you are Now

    She speaks Channeled by Janice Turner Salmon

  • Menstrual Cycles

    I have cycled for 35 years. What else in life do we repeat this many times? It is still a topic of conversation not mentioned so much. Compare it to films, food or work. This repetitive experience doesn’t get much air time does it!

    We are all aware of the stories of red tents and lodges within our ancestral history. Women gathered, they talked, they shared, they would bleed and be supported . And I imagine they laughed and they cried…..together. These are now just that, stories, the inter-generational support, the experience and wisdom from Grandmothers is no longer passed down. Our ancestral roots and rituals of women gathering as family, community and tribe are lost.

    What does this silence repeat to our younger generations? What does the silence do to our bodies? What patterns get repeated?

    How would visibility around menstruation change the nature of womanhood? Imagine a culture of cycle awareness and respect for women in their bleed time. It would possible look something like this, flexibility in the workplace and receiving space to nurture your body and emotions as you bleed. Imagine a generation of elder women supporting you and answering all your questions about your bleed.

    So my question is, how does our next generation benefit from our silence?

  • White Light

    Our Holy Ones of the
    White Light. I bathe in your surrounding Light
    For my inner health and healing.
    I acknowledge your Divine Presence
    In this time of Now
    And the time to come.
    Gather with me and
    I am truly blessed for your
    Loving Presence
    In Grace and Love
    I thank thee All

  • The Forest…..storytelling in a modern world

     

    This is a repost of a blog from a while back….now the story continues. I have finished  the journey, a metaphor and metaphysical story……so far. Please check back next week for part two….

    Thank you for stopping by..

    jungleLoneliness is an interesting feeling. Out here I never felt so alone. I followed the river and the water mesmerised my vision as if it was being siphoned into a spiralling hole underneath my gaze. My feet sunk into the dark wet mud. The cold covered the skin like small cuts of a knife into the flesh and the colour of my skin was no more than of bone. The iced feeling chilled every part of me. Legs to torso, to jaw to scalp, all rattling like an old escalator, but going nowhere.

    The rain bulleted from the darkest of skies. It filtered through branches, leaves exponentially poured onto my shoulder then stopped, wittingly collecting again awaiting to restart. My hair was heavy, eyes cloudy, as my forehead drained upon my face and my chin streamed a river of water onto my chest. I posed with knees together, fists together but no warmth exulted from this angle of arms into breast. Here in the mud, the moment, I was frozen.

    My clothes tightly wrapped around legs and arms as the cold cloth stained into my body unmoveable. The fall sustained further back had splattered earth to my hands and face that bit into flesh. The shoes lay somewhere cemented into the ground on the path, so bare feet chilled into bone, to marrow.

    I couldn’t hear birds call, or traffic nearby nor human – animal movements due to hissing of the rain. Foolish to venture these muddy paths of riveted blackness, stoops and drains like treacle. No saviour will come this way, I and only I can make my way out of this dissented climate. I have been here too long. A lift of foot, a step, a bleeding pained first step is required just one, just rise and step away.

  • Winter Sun

  • Haibun: Night Time

    As the end of the day
    merges into night
    the clock pushes
    the minutes into hours
    turning over to the next day
    What will tomorrow bring?
    that will be told tomorrow
    As time shrinks to midnight
    I am grateful for all that is
    All that has been told

    Day merges to night
    Turning over through midnight
    As moments unfold

    For #NaPoWriMo

    This is a haibun, a combination of prose poem and haiku.

  • NaPoWriMo Day One: Salome

    Salome
    Swaying softly
    So say Narcissus
    Salome

    For NaPoWriMo

  • WordPress Weekly Discover Challenge: Snapshots – Nightmare Nightclub

    Nightmare….stranded. This is just great. The surge of anger at herself fuzzed the situation and the previous few hour’s alcohol wasn’t helping. She still had her house key so the only thing bothering her now was getting from A to B. There was only one thing for it just start walking. It was 1am. The nightclub had started emptying and she couldn’t see any of her friends even now as the lights started to flicker on for chucking out.

    Outside was a chaotic gathering of party goers and taxis, she had to leave. She walked in the direction of her clumsy compass. She got to the end of the road and recognised some buildings, great right turn. She was consoled by the well-lit direct route ahead. She looked up for a moment, this is familiar, then fear hit her feet. This was the area of the city where she had worked in a medical centre as a student, the red light district with all the stories she had been told during her placement. Including this renowned location as one of the most dangerous streets in the country. Over the road out of the corner of her eye were a huddle of figures, she dared not turn her head, she walk faster. She now hoped to God she was invisible. She saw the medical centre in the distance that meant the end of the road. Now just a short walk up hill through the well-known street gang area. Great. She hadn’t thought this through, but what other choice did she have.

    Footsteps now pattered behind her, louder, thundering. She turned sharply, stumbling due to the pace her feet had been panicking. Approaching was the man she had spoken to for part of the night at the bar. Nice bloke, no cheesy wanker but a boy from the same small town background, finding himself in an edgy club that seemed too much like a movie set and borderline illegal.

    “I shouted you, but hell you can walk. I saw you leave and thought what is she doing? Mad cow.”

    “I lost my purse in there” she explained.

    “Pocketed I bet. I was gonna offer you a lift in our taxi then you strutted off.”

    “Can we walk?”

    As they walked, they talked and realised they were both talking ten to the dozen. Adrenaline no doubt. They seemed to have reached to her front door without realising how far they had come.

    “I’m here”

    They stopped. Silent for a time, just breathing. The alcohol fueled confidence had dispersed and they hesitated as to what to do next.

    “That must have been one of the craziest things I’ve ever done” he said.

    “What you? You’re in the Army! In the Gulf! Walking home is crazy?”

    “We’re well kitted out”

    They laughed.

    Hell he wasn’t wrong. That must have been one of the most dangerous,  idiotic things, to risk your life getting home from a nightclub. Another awkward moment, then they were distracted by a bus passing at the top of the street. Night buses that stopped round the corner at the hospital gates, he pointed and ran in that direction waving as he went. No number, no call me, nothing exchanged. She half expected a knock at the door some weeks later and they would have laughed at the crazy girl that walks so fast her feet don’t touch the floor!

    Years later she tells this story to a friend. The friend asks,”was he in white, no name given, and vanished faster than you blink?” She looks puzzled. The friend explains that she believes we are sent earth angels in dangerous times to keep us safe. You know, the guy was dressed completely in white.

    (For the WP Weekly Discover Challenge: Snapshots)