Passion

I am a heart that lives outside of it’s own ribs

Easy to squeeze and soft to touch

Thumping continuously

Loudly for all to hear

Easy to prick and to bleed

I wonder who would want to….

There is a constant stream from those who do

And yet…thump thump thump it goes

People stare at it as if it is strange

But I cherish it and it’s strangeness

You can see the capillaries and the veins and watch it as it beats

I love this

And the ability to live exposed and uncaged

Hiding nothing

Beating without any blocks or embolisms

To live unguarded

Unfettered

Unhindered

Passionately and unfiltered

Screaming away from all expectations

Throwing them off because other peoples shame, is not my own

My passions are mine

There is no apology required from me for loving and feeling and expressing

I am not sorry for any passions I have….for that is my essence.

That is me.

Precious

I carry your words with me forever

Locked into my heart

Seared into it

As I saw you open the lid of yours

For the first time

……the last time

I could not help myself but inhale the essence of it deeply, ravenously

It is a scent I will never forget

It is a light so soft and gentle and true

If I could bathe in it

I would bathe in it forever

Bare skinned

Naked so I could feel it everywhere on me

I am greedy for it

Insatiable and thirsty for it

But I thank my stars and all of the heavenly hosts

That they allowed me to see it even once

To hear it’s perfection and to have my own heart attempt to escape it’s cage to join it forever

I will hold that moment as a treasure

The one thing that filled me to overflowing like none has ever done before

Say the word, and I will give you the key to unlock the cages that hold mine.

The Arrival

I am standing to attention

When the bugle called me to the marching grounds

I ran as fast as I could

As the Captain stands and blows the whistle

Men, this is not a drill

rat tatta tat tat tat

The assembly move in unison ducking and looking to the sky

To Armes men to Armes!” Screams the Captain

The enemy had arrived

Even the papers hadn’t predicted

As revenge from a bullying nation strikes hard upon the peaceful abundant nation for standing it’s ground against them.

The bullies escalate as a challenge with intent to force compliance

There is no way to avoid a Tsunami of enemies when they declare war upon you.

Judgement arrives whether we incite it or not

As nations are pulled apart

and innocent people are caught upon it’s deathly wave

Daniel and Mary (maybe the beginning of a novel?)

Mary.

She walked along the river that night. A tinder box in her pocket, carrying it close and checking it often. Waiting for the darkest hour, the thickest of night, when stars were being snuffed and the mist lay heavily all around and drips echoed loudly upon the mossy stone.

It was the hour that moss and stone conversed, their words heavy and thick and slow. The moss was soft and welcoming, their secrets as heavy as the burdened leaves that bowed under the burden of their wintery loads. The drops falling like small boulders, just before the dawn. This was the time that she had waited for. She pulled her shawl closer around her shoulders. A fleeting thought imagined and wished it was his arms instead.

Her boots fell heavily upon the damp leaves. They made little sound apart from the occasional thud, snapping of a twig or squelching of mud. She pulled her hat tightly over her frozen ears. If only she could hide her thoughts as easily as she could hide her ears, she thought to herself with a little annoyance. Her mind circled endlessly with memories that drove her boots steadily on. They seemed more assured than she was, as they trampled the damp squelching leaves. Her boots held a simple continuous rhythm that quickly aligned with the words in her mind…

Faith

Love

Trust

Faith

Love

Trust

She found herself repeating those words over and over again. What else could a poor girl do? She felt for the tinder box again. The callous cold metal was slowly warming against her heart as she pressed it closer, “Around the river bend, up Minors Hill. Climb up the old quarry.” He had said that day. She had been sure to repeat it over and over again, terrified she would forget it. Her breath became increasingly heavy as she traversed up the steep rocky side of the quarry. She could feel her nails tearing on the granite as she climbed steadily upwards. Heat, cold and burning fingers equally paining with her lungs and limbs, as she carefully balanced herself over short gravely trails and slippery boulders. “Not much of a trail.” She said out loud with a smile and a hint of sarcasm to herself. She could see why the cottage had been abandoned, The track was anything but simple. But she had set her course, and nothing could turn her from it. After what felt like hours…. the cottage and the wood pile, that he had so carefully described, appeared suddenly before her. It was as if it had been expecting her. Her eyes fastened to it immediately as she picked up speed – excitement and determination helping her forget the stinging and the burning aches as she ran toward it. She checked to see if the pile was damp, the surface layer was wet, but beneath it lay the perfect stack of dry aged timber and kindling. You were ready even then, she thought to herself in amazement. With shaking cold burning fingers she removed the top layer of damp useless timber, then removed the tinder box from her chest, began striking the flint. It caught on the third strike, as she delicately blew on it, as if it were hot soup, the thought of soup was torturous and she immediately focused on the task ahead in order to ignore the painful hunger. The flames grew steadily and she thanked the gods that no wind blew this morn. She nursed the flame carefully in the still wet blackness. Maybe the gods are with me after all…she whispered to herself. Soon the flames were licking the wood crackling and sending sparks into the air. She found an empty crate that lay recklessly about and sat down between the flames and the worn old cottage. It seemed to stare at her with its gaping windows, like a blind old widow. She pretended not to notice it, Ghosts shall surely arise from it if I pay it attention, she thought to herself.. The mist started to glow around the bonfire, like one of the new iridescent electric light globes she had seen recently in the shop window. She sat quietly making a fast and desperate prayer. Now all there was to do was wait and hope and pray.

Wait

Hope

Pray.

Dancing Shoes

Feeling fuller than ever before

“At last!” she groans ..with a cheeky smile

I have drunk on the wine from the only cup I had ever desired

She drank thirstly

She was surprised at how satisfied she finally felt

It was the only thing she had ever wanted

Weights immediately lifted from her

And she remembers the visions from before

Yes

She dances with maidens until the dawn

Her Empire is readying itself for abundance

Famine has been vanquished

The rains have come

And all are released to thrive and create and grow

Although She see’s the horizon, she knows it is endless

Her feet cannot help themselves but kick upwards and her body move with joy.

She is ready.

She has been freed.

Perfectionism (a personal note)

Today I had to concede my issue with my own perfectionism and it’s root cause.

The root cause of my perfectionism is fear.

Fear of humiliation.

Fear of rejection

Fear of abandonment

Any kind of mistake or error made by myself, immediately has filled me with these overwhelming feelings

I immediately check, recheck my actions and previously my immediate response was always worse case scenario- upset, despair, anxiety, depression, shame, guilt and even self harm.

This has been highlighted for me just recently

I understand why I have this response. I understand that I have had inner child wounding. I understand where it comes from, how it occurred etc.

However, sometimes until we are triggered again- sometimes it is hard to know whether we have truly healed from these types of wounds, and what further healing needs to occur.

So thank you Spirit, here I go again, triggered (If I ever hash tagged….eye roll, groan, why me, when does it end, Spiritual Awakening=healing, so over it, better in the long run, faith- it will all make sense soon, please don’t let it carry on this badly next year, no excuses left, all my faults and wounds revealed, it really does help, still sux though)

What I just learnt was that I am still deep in perfectionism. I have healed parts of it, but there have been parts that have not healed. It has created a dissonance within me. I am no longer self harming in regards to being confronted with my own errors. However, I am still behaving in some ways, where I am defensive, guarded and fearful of being seen as imperfect. I am scared of criticism. I have visions of mass rejection and humiliation, that immediately spring to my mind. It occurred to me that I have never accepted that error and imperfection is a natural/ normal part of being human. When one is a perfectionist, error feels 100x worse because the fall from grace feels greater, you feel the disappointment of the people around you, and the question of loss of reputation equates to disaster. Shame is quick to follow. The other response I have also had, on the flip side, is overreactions to other peoples mistakes, condemnation, judgement, self righteousness, rejection. In other words projection onto others. This feels worse to me, understanding that, I am treating others this way, because that is how I feel. I am again called to heal my childhood wounds. Learn to accept and love myself as I am. Accept my imperfections, so that I can accept imperfections in others. Love myself so I can also love others.

As I talk about love over and over again, I am again convicted about my own words and actions towards others. Everything I write about on this platform, are all messages for me just as it is for you. Spirit speaks through me, but nothing is held from me in regards to responsibility in heeding those messages.

Owning my imperfections enables easier transparency for those around me and enables generalised increased openness and therefore reduction of stress for me.

I didn’t realise how by owning my imperfections, that I am also able to be more relatable to others.

Mistakes are normal

Mistakes are how we learn

Mistakes are ok

Consequences are inevitable….no matter what

Keep on the healing journey friends.

Love xxx

Death of the Ego

I stand on a mountain with my chest puffed out

I stand as a heroine

as a Queen and an untouchable thing

I hold my nose in the air as I smell the stench of other peoples offenses

fearing them

avoiding them

refusing to even look at them

…..even hating them

I hold my nose assuming the stench is from everybody else

until a spotlight is held upon the mountain from which I stand

suddenly I see the refuse of my own waste

My own colossal mountain of rubbish that came from me…was made by me.

The Spot light which at first I enjoyed in my pride

I now wish I could run from, because it reveals my shame to all!

The Spotlight has become the murderer of my pride

But oh how it has enlightened me to feel compassion

and again I stand here shaking my head at my own error and arrogance and ask you for your forgiveness.

Spirit….I wish there was another way.

The Strength and the Knowing

Holding a hand up in a fist

Kneeling as a knight before an enemy

Defiance

Loyalty

Determination

Bowing of the head and closing of the eyes

Sweat dripping down the brow

As shoulders heave with every aching breath

The body is weak but the mind is strong

Holding vision with inner strength

A shaking fist is better than none at all

If that is all there is…

Then defiance and determination, shall lead an army through the growing darkness of the eve, into the light of a new and victorious dawn.

Listening And The Joy Of The Universe

I wrote earlier about towers and appreciating these powerful externally destructive situations or crazy new paths that appear out of no where and they feel like the worst case scenario. We are forced to walk down these paths, because it is literally a life and death situation.

We do not take these paths because we want to.

We feel overwhelmed, anxious, fearful at the thought of them.

We don’t like them because we can not see round the corner.

So the universe sends us these situations to show us that we must take them.

We are the fool standing on the precipice

We are at our most fearful when we look over the edge.

So the universe sends us angels that poke us with fiery blades that are far worse than jumping off.

But once we jump, we are forced to use our wings…the ones we didn’t know we had.

Suddenly we are enjoying the descent.

And as we look back at the cliff we see those angry angels who we feared so much – smiling and waving and cheering and laughing at our surprise and joy that we are discovering how incredible we are and how much fun it is to fly.

Friends I can’t see around the corner…..but I am listening….Universe I hear you!

I’m kinda excited….smiley face…I release control after purging myself of fears and ready myself for action.

Sometimes being thrown in the deep end, is the greatest way of showing ourselves who we really are and what we are really made of.

Thank you cheeky Universe

lol.