I pray to the Grandmothers, the Mothers The Sisters and Daughters I pray to the Changemakers, the Songmakers, And the Homemakers I pray to the Winds of Movement The Rivers of Guardians The Earth Lovers And the Fire Warriors I pray for Change
I thank you all for a spirited year of connection, joy, laughter, grief, tears and sounding our voices in release and keening.
I pray for love, more connection to you all in joy and heart blooming inspiration.
I pray that next year I will be gatherings with you, to sing, voice, touch your hand in mine as your spirit has touched my heart this year.
I thank the Grandmothers and the Grandfathers, our ancestors, the ancient ones the wise and the well for pulling us together. I thank the great mysteries of the those that guide me, my angel guardians, my spirit guides for bringing me into circle and session with beautiful souls and those that have pure hearts. I thank the greatness for new friendships, for long held loving relationships, for family and community that have held us as we have experienced challenges and expressed our emotions in safe communion.
I am grateful for All this and so much more. I am grateful to the All and the Only, to the consciousness of oneness and my grateful heart sends out so much love to yours for now in this present moment, I am Truly Blessed.
There is time for everything and everything has its time…..
Into this place I send my soul song streaming and the elements return the sound into my own. I am here without time and in no place. I have space between the particles of my being and my bones.
Can you feel it, this shift in spirit? I see our forms as energy all thinking, dreaming, perceiving, doing, projecting. I see all those projections as cords, the unaware.
Within my own space, what am I projecting, what have I perceived?
Much of this is not my own, so who am I? I see my form, looking back at me and what do I see?
The perceptions of myself have dropped away, who am I Now? In this moment, there is just my form looking back at me, this is ending, dying, birthing….this is New.
What if my thoughts on land energy clearing are not on point? What if there is a fault in my thinking? What if some places have energy clearing all adhered to through spirit?
You see certain places have an energy keeper the “Spirit of Place”. This is spirit that is a guardian, to be Keeper of the Land Place and Space. Maybe we should be calling upon “Spirit of Place” before we enter into any rituals or ceremony, out of good intention, but maybe we ask first?! Maybe this way we get connected, reconnected to that Keeper.
My thoughts recently have been that we have a duty to clear spaces on the land, our natural spaces, our sacred spaces so that energies are not held on the land, and yes, we are talking land trauma here. But what if this is not always necessary? What if rituals and ceremony, specially in sacred ancient sites is already taken care of by the other realms, the unseen.
I recognise that some places have that “feeling” right? This makes me think that land is like clearing any space. You know when a room it just needs a clearing of energy, that dense feeling after a tense meeting or a building after a trauma event, so why is an outside space any different! Do we have a responsibility to take care of the energies in just the same way? And on that note, do we recognise that the same respect for energy to flow is also a clearing we need to respect within ourselves, the body. After all a spirit resides within us too, we are the Keeper of our body.
So my point here is do we seek consent? Do we ask for consent and listen, inwardly and outwardly? We may just connect to the Spirit of Place if we do.
Last month I took up a FaceBook challenge, a Quest. The idea was to create a journey with a bag of tools and set off to embrace a sacred space. I found myself under the large spruce tree in my garden, on the bench, in the shade. A favourite summer spot, this time with my bag of tools. The idea of this Quest was to carve some self-care time and to re-evaluate how time is spent in everyday existence. What we do, what we love, what we have forgotten. What is joy? What is self-love? And fun when we put it into alone time.
I found myself sat in front with a sketch pad and pencils. As I sat each day I just allowed, I fell into this silent space and surrendered to the pencil and paper. I was completely immersed in a dimension of calm. I was captivated by the subtle hues, the absence of thought and the silence.
What I set out to do was find a direction, a journey, a quest. What I found was the pause button, to still life in chaos and hit mute. A state of polarities appeared. The chaos of challenges in life and a sense of stillness. The state of polarities attracting for the higher perspective. I didn’t find this great journey or adventure in the planning but what I did find was an inner state …. the eye within the storm….
Or the profound words “what you are seeking is already looking” (St. Francis) now I understand…..seeking calm amid the storm ….. A state of being. The eye within the eye……
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.
Medicinalmeadows 