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REFLECTIONS...
Desert Lessons (from 10 days of walking barefoot and silent through the Sahara desert)
Walking barefoot and silent through the Sahara desert, time’s restrictive cages quickly dissolve. What emerges are vast open spaces through which the rhythms of life dance and play.
Sunrises welcome the day, tracing an arc from softness to ferocity until sunsets welcome a blanket of stars. Moonrises illuminate the dead of night. Everything cycles through changing faces of aliveness.
The earth, too, pulses with this silent aliveness, offering endless diversity amidst seeming sameness. Bare feet feel the shifting textures and temperatures, from the hot, fine sand of sunlit dunes to the cool and damp of those in shadow. And then the sand itself morphs into paper thin rolls which crunch underfoot, or wide cracked slabs which are cool and smooth to the touch.
Our bodies move through cycles in the desert too, adopting a rhythm of heartbeat and footfall in togetherness and community, a caravan of relaxing minds, expanding hearts, and bodies that are here, here and always here, amidst the stillness and change.
Life in the desert sings its songs loudly into the silence. Every bush, plant and animal stands out in its vitality and tenacity, offering its gifts to something else. One plant’s small round leaves are filled so roundly with pockets of water that it seems to celebrate its miracle with shiny joyous bunches, which the camels gratefully receive. Another’s pungent leaves and yellow flowers are punctured with holes from the meals of the iridescent green caterpillars which leave long thin lines in the sand. There are footprints too of the desert fox, who reveals its long ears and white tail to a lucky few. Our 5am departure morning is blessed by the presence of Arabian wolves.
So there is life everywhere in the stillness and timelessness of this vast space. Ever more precious in its scarcity, because each being can really be seen as the miracle it is. Nothing is taken for granted. Nothing is overlooked as insignificant or unimportant. This is life moving through the vastness.
And so too was our small caravan of 20 humans and 6 camels: life moving through the vastness. It was far from easy, but life is far from easy. A gastric virus came with us, emerging into our delicate bubble and moving stealthily and inevitably to inform each journey in its own unique way. Alongside the arcing of the sun and moon, were cycles of vomiting, diarrhoea, muscle aches and fever. For some, brief and intense. For others, extended and recurring. Meanwhile, the desert held us, like we had never been held before. The sands enfolded us, the night skies embraced us, the sweetness of community, both human and camel, encircled us. And most of all, we were held in the embrace of timelessness. There was always only this, here, now. And this here now can always be met with love.
The journey home was another great teacher. The first leg from the desert to Marrakech, tossed about in a bus snaking through the Atlas mountains, reminded me how normal it has become to assault and overload our senses. Like eating a meal without having tasted, digested and assimilated the last. The second leg, through layers of deadening tarmac, airport concourses and train tunnels, reminded me quite how far we have removed ourselves from what brings us alive, all in the name of comfort and ease.
Yet coming home to my family and the depth of love I feel here reminds me that this aliveness is a choice, too. I was met this morning in the frosty garden, by a squirrel standing on its hind legs at my feet, comically holding a Rich Tea biscuit in its mouth. As if to say, “Look at me here! Just as amazing as a Fennec fox!” And he is, of course, just as amazing. As is the texture of grass coated in frost, the sharp air in my nostrils, the thin sun slanting through wintry trees.
So I arrive back full of apparent contradiction: depleted and rejuvenated; deconstructed and reformed; uncertain and clear; broken and open; quiet and playful. There’s a freedom in contradiction too.
I am learning, through these journeys, that the vastness is here all around and within us, wherever we are. Whatever the conditions. That was the gift of both desert and illness. Take beauty and invite challenge in! Take challenge and remember beauty is here! The gift was to receive the vastness of the desert as my teacher, and also to receive the joys and sorrows of life as my classroom. The invitation continues to be: can you learn to meet life with love?
Of course, it was so much harder to remain spacious, soft and loving when my stomach was cramping while we travelled into the noise of the world. I had to cry on a shoulder along the way, reach for healing yoga and Ayurveda on my return, walk barefoot into the garden to receive from an English squirrel. We need whatever precious jewels return us into the arms of vastness, especially when life appears to close in around us. For me, these jewels are yoga, meditation, nature and community, but for you, it may be anything which helps you remember that you truly belong here.
Because wherever we are, however self-sufficient or insufficient we believe ourselves to be, each of us belongs to a caravan of life moving through a vastness framed by the rhythmic rocking motions of change.
It’s beautiful, nourishing and life-affirming to surrender into the arms of this truth. To be held by the vastness, to marvel at the wonder of change and beauty, to receive the blessings and teachings of life.
And it’s beautiful, nourishing and life-affirming to learn to meet life with love.
If you feel called to the desert, I wholeheartedly recommend meeting Her in silence and wonder. I travelled with Dharma Nature, with guided meditations and dharma teachings offered by the wonderful Denis Robberechts. And watch this space… a seed is growing to invite a group of you to join me in the desert too, one day.
Love's Fullness
What is love anyway?
All I know is that it is so much deeper and wider than the shallow and narrow ways we have chosen to define and confine it.
If love were an ocean, then romantic love would be no more than a current or wave in its vast expanse. Oceanic love is not a transaction: it’s the fabric of life, the essence of all things. Its movements are mysterious, yet intimately felt and known. Its power is radical. Within the embrace of its luminous warmth, miracles happen. Wounds mend and dissolve, contractions unravel and release, limiting beliefs and behaviours relax.
This much I know: love heals, transforms and liberates.
I recently returned from offering a silent yoga, meditation and embodied dharma retreat in France, and though we anchored and relaxed the mind, stabilised and lengthened the body, opened and softened the heart - what we really did was learn to love and be loved.
Because when the mind is soft and present, it’s more able to perceive the body with kindness. And when the body is strong and supple, it’s more able to offer a safe home to the heart. And when the heart relaxes its armouring, it’s more able to love what is here (however beautiful or painful), and be loved just because it’s here (however imperfect and awkward).
The aliveness of the natural world holds us on this journey, alongside practices which cultivate loving presence and the incredible bond which grows through silence. Together we reweave a web of love. The messages I received after the retreat all spoke about a sense of coming home to this web. As one person wrote:
The feeling of being held in love has remained, and it is transformative. It's as if you taught what I had been looking for but hadn't quite realised - I love Dharma teachings but until now have often felt a lack of emphasis on love at the core of the teaching. My experience at the Moulin has completely changed that. Your beautifully chosen words, your calm generous presence and your focus on embodied experience helped me to feel alive and connected to a loving web of life that I sensed as a child but had lost.
Let her words land in you:
We are alive and connected to a loving web of life.
We know this, but we forget.
When we remember, we are more able to relax into love’s fullness, even when life is painful and challenging.
When we forget, we are more likely to suffer, even when life is sweet and gentle.
The journey of remembering happens through the heart, not the mind. Though we train the mind to rest and attend here with curiosity and care, we do this so that we can feel the heart of this moment, which is love. We infuse this moment with love and experience it held in love, so that we can respond to life from love’s fierce, wise, compassionate grace.
We don’t meditate to become good meditators. We meditate to feel, receive and live in love.
If the Pali word sati were translated not as mindfulness but as lovefulness, how would that change our relationship to meditation, I wonder? Would we still practise as if we were observing this moment - as if separate from it? Would it still be lovefulness even when applied to accumulating wealth regardless of impact (Goldman Sachs and others offer mindfulness programmes to their traders) or squeezing the trigger of a rifle (UK and US armies use mindfulness to prepare soldiers for combat)?
Whereas mindfulness can be excised from its relational, devotional context to be implemented devoid of an ethical framework, love cannot be separated from the field of curiosity, care, tenderness, kindness, wonder, awe, compassion and delight which evokes its presence within us, and our presence within it.
Let’s practice lovefulness.
Let’s participate in - and rest within - love’s fullness.
A Little Story (about the biggest thing of all: change)
She was sitting in her favourite chair on the porch watching the clouds stretch, morph and reform as they journeyed through a wide open sky, her mottled hands and dark eyes wrinkled and soft with life, when the little one streaked by and fell into her lap, a crumpled heap of lengthening limbs.
She was the youngest daughter of her youngest daughter, the last of her grandchildren and the one closest to her heart, having given up the idea that anything was more important than holding this budding life by the time she arrived.
‘I hate my life!’, the girl raged, ‘I hate myself! I hate the world!’
She rested a hand on the back of her granddaughter's heart and gave her time, while through her hands, through her lap, through her breath, the space filled with love and tears began to flow.
‘I miss who I used to be’, the girl said between sobs, ‘I miss that girl who knew who she was. I don’t know who I am and I don’t want to go back but I don’t want to be here either!’
The grandmother’s heart swelled in knowing, remembering herself at thirteen as well. Remembering herself again at 28 when her first child was born and she walked the streets as if without skin, as brand new to the world as the baby against her breast. Remembering herself at 53, when everything she thought she had come to know about who she was, all the reference points she had carefully collated, no longer fit and fell away. And now, at 82, facing the greatest frontier of all, naked in the face of its vastness.
‘Look at those clouds’, she said to her granddaughter, ‘I wonder how it feels to be them, right now?’
The little one turned her head to the side on her grandmother’s lap, and they watched in silence as a rabbit stretched into a hippo, pausing only moments before morphing into a dragon. Change, so much change, skidding across that vast open sky. And a constancy too, with her grandmother’s hand warm on her back, the rise and fall of her belly, the sky.
‘When the cosmos looks down at us, I think we look like those clouds too. Stretching and changing and dissolving back into sky. We try and hold on, because how else can we know if we’re doing ok? See that cloud - it just learnt how to be a good hippo, and then, without asking, it became a dragon!’
The girl laughed, a soft hiccuping laugh. ‘So how do I know if I’m ok, grandma?’
‘Ah well, yes. But what does it mean to be ok, my love? Maybe all your heart really longs to know is, am I safe and am I loved? Don’t you think?’
She nodded, biting her lip and reaching further onto her grandmother’s lap.
‘And there’s a whisper behind that longing too, my sweet. Because somewhere in your heart you remember that you are love, you know. Like the clouds remembering somewhere deep within that they are the sky: that they can let go being good rabbits or hippos or dragons!’
They watched the clouds disperse and reform. Cloud becoming sky. Sky becoming cloud.
She continued, gently rubbing her granddaughter’s heart. ‘You remember this, like a distant spark which won’t leave you. But then you doubt and run from it, searching everywhere else instead. And, oh my love, I know how that doubting and running hurts. It just hurts so, so much to leave ourselves like that.’
Something in the young girl released and crumbled, and ancient tears emerged from an unknown place inside. ‘I’m so scared, grandma. I just feel so scared and so sad.’
But the hand on her back remained as steady as the breathing which rose and fell from her grandmother’s belly against the back of her head. The breeze skudding the clouds rustled the leaves and the porch smelled of wood oil and damp. And at some point, in a moment beyond time, the girl realised fear and sadness had shifted and moved in their own ways, too.
And the two of them, young and old yet both ancient in some mysterious way, sat in the silence of togetherness, not knowing more than this, for now. But for now, this knowing, being enough.
Walking barefoot and silent through the Sahara desert, time’s restrictive cages quickly dissolve. What emerges are vast open spaces through which the rhythms of life dance and play.
Sunrises welcome the day, tracing an arc from softness to ferocity until sunsets welcome a blanket of stars. Moonrises illuminate the dead of night. Everything cycles through changing faces of aliveness.
The earth, too, pulses with this silent aliveness, offering endless diversity amidst seeming sameness. Bare feet feel the shifting textures and temperatures, from the hot, fine sand of sunlit dunes to the cool and damp of those in shadow. And then the sand itself morphs into paper thin rolls which crunch underfoot, or wide cracked slabs which are cool and smooth to the touch.
Our bodies move through cycles in the desert too, adopting a rhythm of heartbeat and footfall in togetherness and community, a caravan of relaxing minds, expanding hearts, and bodies that are here, here and always here, amidst the stillness and change.
Life in the desert sings its songs loudly into the silence. Every bush, plant and animal stands out in its vitality and tenacity, offering its gifts to something else. One plant’s small round leaves are filled so roundly with pockets of water that it seems to celebrate its miracle with shiny joyous bunches, which the camels gratefully receive. Another’s pungent leaves and yellow flowers are punctured with holes from the meals of the iridescent green caterpillars which leave long thin lines in the sand. There are footprints too of the desert fox, who reveals its long ears and white tail to a lucky few. Our 5am departure morning is blessed by the presence of Arabian wolves.
So there is life everywhere in the stillness and timelessness of this vast space. Ever more precious in its scarcity, because each being can really be seen as the miracle it is. Nothing is taken for granted. Nothing is overlooked as insignificant or unimportant. This is life moving through the vastness.
And so too was our small caravan of 20 humans and 6 camels: life moving through the vastness. It was far from easy, but life is far from easy. A gastric virus came with us, emerging into our delicate bubble and moving stealthily and inevitably to inform each journey in its own unique way. Alongside the arcing of the sun and moon, were cycles of vomiting, diarrhoea, muscle aches and fever. For some, brief and intense. For others, extended and recurring. Meanwhile, the desert held us, like we had never been held before. The sands enfolded us, the night skies embraced us, the sweetness of community, both human and camel, encircled us. And most of all, we were held in the embrace of timelessness. There was always only this, here, now. And this here now can always be met with love.
The journey home was another great teacher. The first leg from the desert to Marrakech, tossed about in a bus snaking through the Atlas mountains, reminded me how normal it has become to assault and overload our senses. Like eating a meal without having tasted, digested and assimilated the last. The second leg, through layers of deadening tarmac, airport concourses and train tunnels, reminded me quite how far we have removed ourselves from what brings us alive, all in the name of comfort and ease.
Yet coming home to my family and the depth of love I feel here reminds me that this aliveness is a choice, too. I was met this morning in the frosty garden, by a squirrel standing on its hind legs at my feet, comically holding a Rich Tea biscuit in its mouth. As if to say, “Look at me here! Just as amazing as a Fennec fox!” And he is, of course, just as amazing. As is the texture of grass coated in frost, the sharp air in my nostrils, the thin sun slanting through wintry trees.
So I arrive back full of apparent contradiction: depleted and rejuvenated; deconstructed and reformed; uncertain and clear; broken and open; quiet and playful. There’s a freedom in contradiction too.
I am learning, through these journeys, that the vastness is here all around and within us, wherever we are. Whatever the conditions. That was the gift of both desert and illness. Take beauty and invite challenge in! Take challenge and remember beauty is here! The gift was to receive the vastness of the desert as my teacher, and also to receive the joys and sorrows of life as my classroom. The invitation continues to be: can you learn to meet life with love?
Of course, it was so much harder to remain spacious, soft and loving when my stomach was cramping while we travelled into the noise of the world. I had to cry on a shoulder along the way, reach for healing yoga and Ayurveda on my return, walk barefoot into the garden to receive from an English squirrel. We need whatever precious jewels return us into the arms of vastness, especially when life appears to close in around us. For me, these jewels are yoga, meditation, nature and community, but for you, it may be anything which helps you remember that you truly belong here.
Because wherever we are, however self-sufficient or insufficient we believe ourselves to be, each of us belongs to a caravan of life moving through a vastness framed by the rhythmic rocking motions of change.
It’s beautiful, nourishing and life-affirming to surrender into the arms of this truth. To be held by the vastness, to marvel at the wonder of change and beauty, to receive the blessings and teachings of life.
And it’s beautiful, nourishing and life-affirming to learn to meet life with love.
If you feel called to the desert, I wholeheartedly recommend meeting Her in silence and wonder. I travelled with Dharma Nature, with guided meditations and dharma teachings offered by the wonderful Denis Robberechts. And watch this space… a seed is growing to invite a group of you to join me in the desert too, one day.
Love's Fullness
What is love anyway?
All I know is that it is so much deeper and wider than the shallow and narrow ways we have chosen to define and confine it.
If love were an ocean, then romantic love would be no more than a current or wave in its vast expanse. Oceanic love is not a transaction: it’s the fabric of life, the essence of all things. Its movements are mysterious, yet intimately felt and known. Its power is radical. Within the embrace of its luminous warmth, miracles happen. Wounds mend and dissolve, contractions unravel and release, limiting beliefs and behaviours relax.
This much I know: love heals, transforms and liberates.
I recently returned from offering a silent yoga, meditation and embodied dharma retreat in France, and though we anchored and relaxed the mind, stabilised and lengthened the body, opened and softened the heart - what we really did was learn to love and be loved.
Because when the mind is soft and present, it’s more able to perceive the body with kindness. And when the body is strong and supple, it’s more able to offer a safe home to the heart. And when the heart relaxes its armouring, it’s more able to love what is here (however beautiful or painful), and be loved just because it’s here (however imperfect and awkward).
The aliveness of the natural world holds us on this journey, alongside practices which cultivate loving presence and the incredible bond which grows through silence. Together we reweave a web of love. The messages I received after the retreat all spoke about a sense of coming home to this web. As one person wrote:
The feeling of being held in love has remained, and it is transformative. It's as if you taught what I had been looking for but hadn't quite realised - I love Dharma teachings but until now have often felt a lack of emphasis on love at the core of the teaching. My experience at the Moulin has completely changed that. Your beautifully chosen words, your calm generous presence and your focus on embodied experience helped me to feel alive and connected to a loving web of life that I sensed as a child but had lost.
Let her words land in you:
We are alive and connected to a loving web of life.
We know this, but we forget.
When we remember, we are more able to relax into love’s fullness, even when life is painful and challenging.
When we forget, we are more likely to suffer, even when life is sweet and gentle.
The journey of remembering happens through the heart, not the mind. Though we train the mind to rest and attend here with curiosity and care, we do this so that we can feel the heart of this moment, which is love. We infuse this moment with love and experience it held in love, so that we can respond to life from love’s fierce, wise, compassionate grace.
We don’t meditate to become good meditators. We meditate to feel, receive and live in love.
If the Pali word sati were translated not as mindfulness but as lovefulness, how would that change our relationship to meditation, I wonder? Would we still practise as if we were observing this moment - as if separate from it? Would it still be lovefulness even when applied to accumulating wealth regardless of impact (Goldman Sachs and others offer mindfulness programmes to their traders) or squeezing the trigger of a rifle (UK and US armies use mindfulness to prepare soldiers for combat)?
Whereas mindfulness can be excised from its relational, devotional context to be implemented devoid of an ethical framework, love cannot be separated from the field of curiosity, care, tenderness, kindness, wonder, awe, compassion and delight which evokes its presence within us, and our presence within it.
Let’s practice lovefulness.
Let’s participate in - and rest within - love’s fullness.
A Little Story (about the biggest thing of all: change)
She was sitting in her favourite chair on the porch watching the clouds stretch, morph and reform as they journeyed through a wide open sky, her mottled hands and dark eyes wrinkled and soft with life, when the little one streaked by and fell into her lap, a crumpled heap of lengthening limbs.
She was the youngest daughter of her youngest daughter, the last of her grandchildren and the one closest to her heart, having given up the idea that anything was more important than holding this budding life by the time she arrived.
‘I hate my life!’, the girl raged, ‘I hate myself! I hate the world!’
She rested a hand on the back of her granddaughter's heart and gave her time, while through her hands, through her lap, through her breath, the space filled with love and tears began to flow.
‘I miss who I used to be’, the girl said between sobs, ‘I miss that girl who knew who she was. I don’t know who I am and I don’t want to go back but I don’t want to be here either!’
The grandmother’s heart swelled in knowing, remembering herself at thirteen as well. Remembering herself again at 28 when her first child was born and she walked the streets as if without skin, as brand new to the world as the baby against her breast. Remembering herself at 53, when everything she thought she had come to know about who she was, all the reference points she had carefully collated, no longer fit and fell away. And now, at 82, facing the greatest frontier of all, naked in the face of its vastness.
‘Look at those clouds’, she said to her granddaughter, ‘I wonder how it feels to be them, right now?’
The little one turned her head to the side on her grandmother’s lap, and they watched in silence as a rabbit stretched into a hippo, pausing only moments before morphing into a dragon. Change, so much change, skidding across that vast open sky. And a constancy too, with her grandmother’s hand warm on her back, the rise and fall of her belly, the sky.
‘When the cosmos looks down at us, I think we look like those clouds too. Stretching and changing and dissolving back into sky. We try and hold on, because how else can we know if we’re doing ok? See that cloud - it just learnt how to be a good hippo, and then, without asking, it became a dragon!’
The girl laughed, a soft hiccuping laugh. ‘So how do I know if I’m ok, grandma?’
‘Ah well, yes. But what does it mean to be ok, my love? Maybe all your heart really longs to know is, am I safe and am I loved? Don’t you think?’
She nodded, biting her lip and reaching further onto her grandmother’s lap.
‘And there’s a whisper behind that longing too, my sweet. Because somewhere in your heart you remember that you are love, you know. Like the clouds remembering somewhere deep within that they are the sky: that they can let go being good rabbits or hippos or dragons!’
They watched the clouds disperse and reform. Cloud becoming sky. Sky becoming cloud.
She continued, gently rubbing her granddaughter’s heart. ‘You remember this, like a distant spark which won’t leave you. But then you doubt and run from it, searching everywhere else instead. And, oh my love, I know how that doubting and running hurts. It just hurts so, so much to leave ourselves like that.’
Something in the young girl released and crumbled, and ancient tears emerged from an unknown place inside. ‘I’m so scared, grandma. I just feel so scared and so sad.’
But the hand on her back remained as steady as the breathing which rose and fell from her grandmother’s belly against the back of her head. The breeze skudding the clouds rustled the leaves and the porch smelled of wood oil and damp. And at some point, in a moment beyond time, the girl realised fear and sadness had shifted and moved in their own ways, too.
And the two of them, young and old yet both ancient in some mysterious way, sat in the silence of togetherness, not knowing more than this, for now. But for now, this knowing, being enough.
Relaxing into Love
In this world of argument, so caught in the compulsions of demanding, defending and distracting, I find it helpful to remember two things.
That I can choose where to place my attention.
And that the way in which I attend, is also a choice.
Choosing where to place our attention doesn’t only apply to the outer world: to whom and what we listen to or read; to whether or not we curb the mind’s addictive search for stimuli. That’s important of course, but it’s also important to choose where to place our attention in our inner landscape. Do we get lost in our compulsive and often repetitive thoughts, for example? Are we equally aware of bodily sensations and emotions? And how does this impact our capacity to respond wisely?
The modern world is so dissociated from the body and emotions that we might not even realise there’s a distinction between attention and thinking. They might feel like one thing: where thinking goes, attention follows, looping through familiar (and often neurotic) pathways. And even when we are aware of the body and emotions, our relationship to them is often coloured by filters of judging, comparing and fixing.
This all leaves us reactive. Our attention follows habitual pathways of blame, shame, fussing and fixing, and our actions follow immediately behind. Which means we do what we’ve always done before, despite the suffering which has always ensued.
When something hurts, we attempt to hold on, defend, attack or distract, in the hope it will ease the pain we feel in body, mind or heart, but blind to the fact that these behaviours have only ever perpetuated suffering in the past.
Choosing where and how to place our attention is a stepping stone towards living in love, because when we meet what is here with love, we actually experience love, right here and now. The grief, fear or physical pain which may have overwhelmed or directed us moments ago will still be here, of course. But we no longer feel we’re fighting or drowning, so we no longer need to numb, distract or destroy.
When love is present, even as we struggle some part of us knows that it is home; some part of us feels that it is whole. And some part of us knows that this home and wholeness is shared by you too.
To experience love alongside pain means we widen our field of attention. This not only soothes and heals ourselves: it also allows us to respond to the complexity and contradiction of this world with less reactivity. We have access to more of ourselves: to intuition, imagination, the subtle signals of the body and the wisdom of the heart alongside our intellect. Which means we can respond with greater flexibility, kindness and energy. We are able to meet life with wisdom, compassion and delight: gifts more potent than cleverness alone.
I’ve been wondering about all this whilst walking through the house my Italian grandparents used to live in before they died. The house is being sold: someone else wants it to become their story now. But my own stories are woven into the fabric of my life.
I see myself, age 10, sitting high in the apricot tree, the indescribable happiness of eating soft ripe fruit directly from a tree warmed by the sun… age 17, walking through the garden with my grandmother, the sense of belonging to something sacred as she taught me about plants and flowers, her hands as soft and wrinkled as mine have now become… age 22, bringing my boyfriend to meet the family, tethered to my past whilst teetering on the edge of a future of my own… age 28, introducing my plump 3 month old baby, the swelling joy of his toothless smiles lighting up their faces… And then came so many summers with all the little ones together, cousins putting on plays, making treasure hunts, learning to swim. Bringing their own friends as they grew older, then bringing their partners. Cycles of life.
These memories bring tears, indignation even, when I believe something is being lost or taken from me. But when I release these stories of loss or abandonment, and embrace the grief itself with love, the memories are liberated into the pure joy that they are.
Of course, some part of me wants to be in that house forever. But it was love which filled it with so much colour. And it’s the wheel of change which makes love so colourful. How beautiful that the house will continue into countless more colourful stories.
This is a sobering reminder for me: that when I choose to invest in contracted stories, my heart closes in resentment and coldness. And when I choose to widen my attention to feel what hurts with love, my heart opens in appreciation and gratitude. The conditions remain the same, but my experience of them changes, and so does my response.
Widening our attention with curiosity and kindness shifts our perspective. We’re able to see things as they really are, from a place no longer caught up in the tension and drama of reactivity.
Whilst at my grandparents house I read Samantha Harvey’s beautiful novel “Orbital”, about astronauts orbiting the Earth in the international space station. ‘A hand-span away beyond a skin of metal the universe unfolds in simple eternities.’
Now, when I look up at the sky, I think of the 5 men and 2 women who, in this moment, are gazing back down at us from space. Witnessing the majesty of 16 sunrises and 16 sunsets while I move through the seeming solidity of this one arc of day into night. For them, a new day begins every 90 minutes. For them, new continents and seasons emerge and dissolve in the time it takes me to stumble through breakfast. They can’t see us, but they see the impacts of what we do playing out on the largest canvas there is.
It helps me remember that everything changes.
That nothing is separate.
And that what we do matters.
I wonder if we, too, could gaze down on this blue green pearl of feathered clouds and shimmering light as it turns through a blackness - so dense with a vibrant aliveness that no words can describe it - would we shake our heads and weep in horrified, compassionate disbelief at the way we tear each other apart at its surface? Or would we simply turn to each other speechless at the preciousness of our home and the life we all share, moving forward with tenderness, respect, responsibility and humility, in silent agreement that none of us are separate on this finely balanced ball of life spinning through space?
Everything changes, nothing is separate and what we do matters. But we don’t need to journey into space to remember this. Each time we choose to widen our attention and receive with love, we strengthen our capacity to let go into love, and respond from love as well.
This takes practice, of course. But just like those astronauts whose years and years of training allowed them to receive unimaginable beauty from a place just beyond the ever-turning curve of the Earth, with practice we, too, are able to receive this moment from a place vast with wonder and awe. Without travelling anywhere, we release, widen, and relax into love, right here.
Relaxing into love actually allows us to give ourselves back more fully. We offer our unique song to the one sound, our creative spark to the one brilliant light. We are able to listen to each other’s fears without needing to attack, defend or define. To share our gifts without needing to compete or compare.
Relaxing into love, we might even, one day, look around in gentle wonder and heartfelt kindness at the different ways we experience this one blue green pearl spinning through space… falling through space… caught only by the grace of the sun.
In this world of argument, so caught in the compulsions of demanding, defending and distracting, I find it helpful to remember two things.
That I can choose where to place my attention.
And that the way in which I attend, is also a choice.
Choosing where to place our attention doesn’t only apply to the outer world: to whom and what we listen to or read; to whether or not we curb the mind’s addictive search for stimuli. That’s important of course, but it’s also important to choose where to place our attention in our inner landscape. Do we get lost in our compulsive and often repetitive thoughts, for example? Are we equally aware of bodily sensations and emotions? And how does this impact our capacity to respond wisely?
The modern world is so dissociated from the body and emotions that we might not even realise there’s a distinction between attention and thinking. They might feel like one thing: where thinking goes, attention follows, looping through familiar (and often neurotic) pathways. And even when we are aware of the body and emotions, our relationship to them is often coloured by filters of judging, comparing and fixing.
This all leaves us reactive. Our attention follows habitual pathways of blame, shame, fussing and fixing, and our actions follow immediately behind. Which means we do what we’ve always done before, despite the suffering which has always ensued.
When something hurts, we attempt to hold on, defend, attack or distract, in the hope it will ease the pain we feel in body, mind or heart, but blind to the fact that these behaviours have only ever perpetuated suffering in the past.
Choosing where and how to place our attention is a stepping stone towards living in love, because when we meet what is here with love, we actually experience love, right here and now. The grief, fear or physical pain which may have overwhelmed or directed us moments ago will still be here, of course. But we no longer feel we’re fighting or drowning, so we no longer need to numb, distract or destroy.
When love is present, even as we struggle some part of us knows that it is home; some part of us feels that it is whole. And some part of us knows that this home and wholeness is shared by you too.
To experience love alongside pain means we widen our field of attention. This not only soothes and heals ourselves: it also allows us to respond to the complexity and contradiction of this world with less reactivity. We have access to more of ourselves: to intuition, imagination, the subtle signals of the body and the wisdom of the heart alongside our intellect. Which means we can respond with greater flexibility, kindness and energy. We are able to meet life with wisdom, compassion and delight: gifts more potent than cleverness alone.
I’ve been wondering about all this whilst walking through the house my Italian grandparents used to live in before they died. The house is being sold: someone else wants it to become their story now. But my own stories are woven into the fabric of my life.
I see myself, age 10, sitting high in the apricot tree, the indescribable happiness of eating soft ripe fruit directly from a tree warmed by the sun… age 17, walking through the garden with my grandmother, the sense of belonging to something sacred as she taught me about plants and flowers, her hands as soft and wrinkled as mine have now become… age 22, bringing my boyfriend to meet the family, tethered to my past whilst teetering on the edge of a future of my own… age 28, introducing my plump 3 month old baby, the swelling joy of his toothless smiles lighting up their faces… And then came so many summers with all the little ones together, cousins putting on plays, making treasure hunts, learning to swim. Bringing their own friends as they grew older, then bringing their partners. Cycles of life.
These memories bring tears, indignation even, when I believe something is being lost or taken from me. But when I release these stories of loss or abandonment, and embrace the grief itself with love, the memories are liberated into the pure joy that they are.
Of course, some part of me wants to be in that house forever. But it was love which filled it with so much colour. And it’s the wheel of change which makes love so colourful. How beautiful that the house will continue into countless more colourful stories.
This is a sobering reminder for me: that when I choose to invest in contracted stories, my heart closes in resentment and coldness. And when I choose to widen my attention to feel what hurts with love, my heart opens in appreciation and gratitude. The conditions remain the same, but my experience of them changes, and so does my response.
Widening our attention with curiosity and kindness shifts our perspective. We’re able to see things as they really are, from a place no longer caught up in the tension and drama of reactivity.
Whilst at my grandparents house I read Samantha Harvey’s beautiful novel “Orbital”, about astronauts orbiting the Earth in the international space station. ‘A hand-span away beyond a skin of metal the universe unfolds in simple eternities.’
Now, when I look up at the sky, I think of the 5 men and 2 women who, in this moment, are gazing back down at us from space. Witnessing the majesty of 16 sunrises and 16 sunsets while I move through the seeming solidity of this one arc of day into night. For them, a new day begins every 90 minutes. For them, new continents and seasons emerge and dissolve in the time it takes me to stumble through breakfast. They can’t see us, but they see the impacts of what we do playing out on the largest canvas there is.
It helps me remember that everything changes.
That nothing is separate.
And that what we do matters.
I wonder if we, too, could gaze down on this blue green pearl of feathered clouds and shimmering light as it turns through a blackness - so dense with a vibrant aliveness that no words can describe it - would we shake our heads and weep in horrified, compassionate disbelief at the way we tear each other apart at its surface? Or would we simply turn to each other speechless at the preciousness of our home and the life we all share, moving forward with tenderness, respect, responsibility and humility, in silent agreement that none of us are separate on this finely balanced ball of life spinning through space?
Everything changes, nothing is separate and what we do matters. But we don’t need to journey into space to remember this. Each time we choose to widen our attention and receive with love, we strengthen our capacity to let go into love, and respond from love as well.
This takes practice, of course. But just like those astronauts whose years and years of training allowed them to receive unimaginable beauty from a place just beyond the ever-turning curve of the Earth, with practice we, too, are able to receive this moment from a place vast with wonder and awe. Without travelling anywhere, we release, widen, and relax into love, right here.
Relaxing into love actually allows us to give ourselves back more fully. We offer our unique song to the one sound, our creative spark to the one brilliant light. We are able to listen to each other’s fears without needing to attack, defend or define. To share our gifts without needing to compete or compare.
Relaxing into love, we might even, one day, look around in gentle wonder and heartfelt kindness at the different ways we experience this one blue green pearl spinning through space… falling through space… caught only by the grace of the sun.
Refuge
In 1978, the Cambodian monk Maha Ghosananda led a ceremony for over ten thousand refugees from Pol Pot’s holocaust near the Thai-Cambodian border. He began by chanting the Buddhist refuge vows: finding safety, shelter and belonging in intrinsic awakeness (Buddha), in the teachings and practices which illuminate this awakeness (Dharma), and in the relationships with support our remembrance and return to this awakeness (Sangha).
The word which best describes the direct felt experience of awakeness, is love.
Maha Ghosananda sat in silence as these wholehearted aspirations to live in love permeated through everyone present, softening their hearts and opening their minds to a place familiar to them even in the midst their enormous pain and shattering trauma.
And then into that soft open space, he made his unique offering of service. In front of thousands of survivors of a genocide which had killed their children, spouses and parents, Maha Ghosananda began to repeat a verse from the Dhammapada, a sacred Buddhist scripture:
Na hi verena verani
sammantidha kudacanam
averena ca sammanti
esa dhammo sanantano.
Hatred never ceases by hatred, but by love alone is healed; this is an ancient and eternal law. Hatred never ceases by hatred, but by love alone is healed; this is an ancient and eternal law. Over and over again.
Through their tears, thousands of people who had been wounded, oppressed and lost all they loved, joined in the chant, over and over. Crying through chanting and chanting through crying, joining together in solidarity and sorrow. Joining together in love.
An ancient and eternal law isn’t created by someone (however enlightened) at a certain time (however long ago). It’s a law of nature, a law of the cosmos. The Buddha placed the cosmic law of love on the same level of irrefutable truth as the laws of impermanence and interconnection. Just as it is unshakeably true that everything changes and everything is influencing and being influenced by something else, it is unshakeably true that love is the only thing to heal hatred.
Love is what heals by responding in a myriad of creative, engaged and sometimes forceful ways. But love cannot be expressed until it is felt. And we cannot feel love for others without meeting the pain we feel with love, first. Without establishing a sense of refuge.
Refuge is not optional on a path of transformation, whether personal or global. Being of service asks us to enter the darkness of nuance and contradiction, to climb the tangled branches of truth before emerging into greater clarity. It asks us to rest in the discomfort of complexity without knowing the answer and without turning away - until we digest the widest perspective we are able to digest, and feel what needs to be felt.
Supporting ourselves and others with refuge doesn’t imply non-action. In fact it allows us to act more effectively. It invites us to prevent further harm and support those in need, whilst offering our own unique gifts back to this moment. We do what’s ours to do.
Maha Ghosananda’s chanting wasn’t the end to healing, of course. It was just the beginning of something which is still unfolding. He offered his drop into the ocean of transformation by realigning the hearts and minds of others towards love, so that they might be more able to do what was theirs to do in turn. Healing is as complex and layered as the distortions which created the trauma. Pol Pot wouldn’t have had traction in his country without the US bombing of Cambodia, which was intended as a display of strength to North Vietnam, which in turn was a power-play between superpowers.
To live in love, we must be willing to prevent further harm and care for those in need without believing the stories which attempt to simplify reality and solidify the enemy. And perhaps hardest of all, we must recognise that all of us are accountable. Because where does blame begin? These power games are at play all around the world, and the country I live in and the privileges I take for granted come from the blood of those games. Where are we complicit, even whilst pointing a finger at an enemy elsewhere to be destroyed so that we can continue to live with comfort and ease?
When we sit in the fire of complexity, it can be challenging not to become overwhelmed, of course. Not to fight, run away and freeze in the enormity of it all. This is why we need to re-establish a sense of refuge, again and again. If we are to continue to breathe and be willing to listen, speak, learn and grow, whilst doing what is ours to do, however large or small, we must have a safe place for this tender human heart to feel it all as well.
The noise of the mind longs to find some quiet, so that a wider and softer perspective can emerge. The disconnected, dull, defended, tense and collapsed body longs to return to its grounded, awake, open, relaxed and spacious state. The contracted heart longs to feel held in an embrace of sacredness, resting in mutual raw presence and exchange with each other, nature and spirit.
With a soft heart, open mind and enlivened body, we can then step forward to do what is ours to do. Our offerings are never enough, but together they grow into something so much bigger than each of us on our own. As the Buddha said:
Think not lightly of good, saying, "It will not come to me." Drop by drop is the water pot filled. Likewise, the wise man, gathering it little by little, fills himself with good.
Drop by drop we fill ourselves with good, and drop by drop we share that goodness everywhere all around. Drop by drop, we do what is ours to do. Refilling our hearts with refuge and emptying ourselves out in service, in readiness to receive and refill once again.
My service is the offering of refuge. I offer meditation, yoga and authentic connection (with nature, each other and spirit), so that we might relax the defensive, reactive survival strategies which attempt to keep us closed and hard in the face of life’s bruises.
It is a drop in the ocean of transformation. But I know with every fibre of my being that the fabric of that ocean is love, and that each of us - really each of us - are waves rising out of its vast expanse.
In 1978, the Cambodian monk Maha Ghosananda led a ceremony for over ten thousand refugees from Pol Pot’s holocaust near the Thai-Cambodian border. He began by chanting the Buddhist refuge vows: finding safety, shelter and belonging in intrinsic awakeness (Buddha), in the teachings and practices which illuminate this awakeness (Dharma), and in the relationships with support our remembrance and return to this awakeness (Sangha).
The word which best describes the direct felt experience of awakeness, is love.
Maha Ghosananda sat in silence as these wholehearted aspirations to live in love permeated through everyone present, softening their hearts and opening their minds to a place familiar to them even in the midst their enormous pain and shattering trauma.
And then into that soft open space, he made his unique offering of service. In front of thousands of survivors of a genocide which had killed their children, spouses and parents, Maha Ghosananda began to repeat a verse from the Dhammapada, a sacred Buddhist scripture:
Na hi verena verani
sammantidha kudacanam
averena ca sammanti
esa dhammo sanantano.
Hatred never ceases by hatred, but by love alone is healed; this is an ancient and eternal law. Hatred never ceases by hatred, but by love alone is healed; this is an ancient and eternal law. Over and over again.
Through their tears, thousands of people who had been wounded, oppressed and lost all they loved, joined in the chant, over and over. Crying through chanting and chanting through crying, joining together in solidarity and sorrow. Joining together in love.
An ancient and eternal law isn’t created by someone (however enlightened) at a certain time (however long ago). It’s a law of nature, a law of the cosmos. The Buddha placed the cosmic law of love on the same level of irrefutable truth as the laws of impermanence and interconnection. Just as it is unshakeably true that everything changes and everything is influencing and being influenced by something else, it is unshakeably true that love is the only thing to heal hatred.
Love is what heals by responding in a myriad of creative, engaged and sometimes forceful ways. But love cannot be expressed until it is felt. And we cannot feel love for others without meeting the pain we feel with love, first. Without establishing a sense of refuge.
Refuge is not optional on a path of transformation, whether personal or global. Being of service asks us to enter the darkness of nuance and contradiction, to climb the tangled branches of truth before emerging into greater clarity. It asks us to rest in the discomfort of complexity without knowing the answer and without turning away - until we digest the widest perspective we are able to digest, and feel what needs to be felt.
Supporting ourselves and others with refuge doesn’t imply non-action. In fact it allows us to act more effectively. It invites us to prevent further harm and support those in need, whilst offering our own unique gifts back to this moment. We do what’s ours to do.
Maha Ghosananda’s chanting wasn’t the end to healing, of course. It was just the beginning of something which is still unfolding. He offered his drop into the ocean of transformation by realigning the hearts and minds of others towards love, so that they might be more able to do what was theirs to do in turn. Healing is as complex and layered as the distortions which created the trauma. Pol Pot wouldn’t have had traction in his country without the US bombing of Cambodia, which was intended as a display of strength to North Vietnam, which in turn was a power-play between superpowers.
To live in love, we must be willing to prevent further harm and care for those in need without believing the stories which attempt to simplify reality and solidify the enemy. And perhaps hardest of all, we must recognise that all of us are accountable. Because where does blame begin? These power games are at play all around the world, and the country I live in and the privileges I take for granted come from the blood of those games. Where are we complicit, even whilst pointing a finger at an enemy elsewhere to be destroyed so that we can continue to live with comfort and ease?
When we sit in the fire of complexity, it can be challenging not to become overwhelmed, of course. Not to fight, run away and freeze in the enormity of it all. This is why we need to re-establish a sense of refuge, again and again. If we are to continue to breathe and be willing to listen, speak, learn and grow, whilst doing what is ours to do, however large or small, we must have a safe place for this tender human heart to feel it all as well.
The noise of the mind longs to find some quiet, so that a wider and softer perspective can emerge. The disconnected, dull, defended, tense and collapsed body longs to return to its grounded, awake, open, relaxed and spacious state. The contracted heart longs to feel held in an embrace of sacredness, resting in mutual raw presence and exchange with each other, nature and spirit.
With a soft heart, open mind and enlivened body, we can then step forward to do what is ours to do. Our offerings are never enough, but together they grow into something so much bigger than each of us on our own. As the Buddha said:
Think not lightly of good, saying, "It will not come to me." Drop by drop is the water pot filled. Likewise, the wise man, gathering it little by little, fills himself with good.
Drop by drop we fill ourselves with good, and drop by drop we share that goodness everywhere all around. Drop by drop, we do what is ours to do. Refilling our hearts with refuge and emptying ourselves out in service, in readiness to receive and refill once again.
My service is the offering of refuge. I offer meditation, yoga and authentic connection (with nature, each other and spirit), so that we might relax the defensive, reactive survival strategies which attempt to keep us closed and hard in the face of life’s bruises.
It is a drop in the ocean of transformation. But I know with every fibre of my being that the fabric of that ocean is love, and that each of us - really each of us - are waves rising out of its vast expanse.
Always Seeking, Always Searching
Ochwiay Biano, an elder and political leader of the Taos Pueblo in New Mexico, said this to Carl Jung of the settler colonialists:
“They are always seeking something. What are they seeking? The whites always want something. They are always uneasy and restless. We do not know what they want. We do not understand them. We think that they are mad."
I know this seeking and restlessness well. I see it both in myself and everywhere I look around me. In some ways it’s the bedrock of our culture, and though it results in expressions of great beauty and innovation, it also creates enormous suffering.
Always seeking something. What are we seeking?
We’re like waves, searching and searching for something called water. We get tossed about in the storms of our own creation, colliding with the floating flotsam of years of conditioning.
It’s a scary and unstable place to be, but rather than dissolving back into the ocean, we build ships of identity from the debris around us, believing they’ll keep us safe from the storms. And though these ships are absurdly limiting, they at least give us somewhere to hide, so we clamber aboard, squeezing our vastness to fit inside them. Yet soon, the ships seem more real than the ocean itself. It becomes unimaginable to live without them, so our attention turns instead to improving, displaying and defending their importance and worth.
The constant vigilance of this state leaves us exhausted and depleted. We struggle to hold on to all we think we need, to push away all we believe we dislike and are afraid of, and we endlessly search for distraction from the hollowness exposed in empty moments.
We are vast oceans, yet we have limited our sense of self to the surface waves of our mind. Limited ourselves still further by the reactivity and conditioning we cling to, and the masks we defend and display.
Uneasy. Restless. Perhaps even mad.
When Jung asked Ochwiay Biano why he thought the whites were mad, he replied, "They say they think with their heads."
Placing a hand on his heart, he said, "We think here."
What would that mean, to think with our hearts?
How might it feel to climb down from these carefully constructed ships of identity? To release the compulsion to surf waves of thought? To enter the ocean?
How might it feel to come into the body so fully that we once again feel the ground?
How might it feel to re-establish expansion and spaciousness where once was contraction and collapse?
What would happen if we allowed ourselves to breathe: slow, full and into the belly?
Would we begin to feel, perhaps?
What would happen if we really began to feel?
Sir Anthony Hopkins wrote:
“We live in a world where funerals are more important than the deceased, marriage is more important than love, looks are more important than the soul. We live in a packaging culture that despises content."
When did we become so afraid of our depths?
I am finding my practice and work turning back again and again towards liberating these deeper currents which move through us. Liberating the naturally fluid, flowing energies of emotions from the conditioned habit of suppressing them and the carefully developed compulsion to embellish them with story and content.
I am learning, and guiding others who wish to learn too, to embrace emotions here in the body instead, with so much love.
So they simply flow.
Because as we hold that flow with love, something grows in us too. Holding anxiety grows equanimity, and over time we come to discover love’s limitless freedom. Holding anger grows compassion, and liberates love’s graceful power. Holding grief grows courage, and leads us into love’s melting reverence. Holding fear grows trust, and reveals love’s gentle peace.
The wave, becoming still, sinks back into the ocean to remember that freedom, grace, reverence and peace are actually already here.
Who it always was. Who it already is. Who it will always be.
The restless searching, the cold-hearted seeking, soothed. Stilled. Finally home.
Becoming still, we come into the body. We breathe. We unhook from compulsive narratives and soften around congealed beliefs. We receive the support of wisdom, aliveness and beauty flowing towards, around and through us. And we feel, fully, with so much love.
Because we, too, can think with the heart.
And we, too, can respond to life from the heart.
It’s time.
Ochwiay Biano, an elder and political leader of the Taos Pueblo in New Mexico, said this to Carl Jung of the settler colonialists:
“They are always seeking something. What are they seeking? The whites always want something. They are always uneasy and restless. We do not know what they want. We do not understand them. We think that they are mad."
I know this seeking and restlessness well. I see it both in myself and everywhere I look around me. In some ways it’s the bedrock of our culture, and though it results in expressions of great beauty and innovation, it also creates enormous suffering.
Always seeking something. What are we seeking?
We’re like waves, searching and searching for something called water. We get tossed about in the storms of our own creation, colliding with the floating flotsam of years of conditioning.
It’s a scary and unstable place to be, but rather than dissolving back into the ocean, we build ships of identity from the debris around us, believing they’ll keep us safe from the storms. And though these ships are absurdly limiting, they at least give us somewhere to hide, so we clamber aboard, squeezing our vastness to fit inside them. Yet soon, the ships seem more real than the ocean itself. It becomes unimaginable to live without them, so our attention turns instead to improving, displaying and defending their importance and worth.
The constant vigilance of this state leaves us exhausted and depleted. We struggle to hold on to all we think we need, to push away all we believe we dislike and are afraid of, and we endlessly search for distraction from the hollowness exposed in empty moments.
We are vast oceans, yet we have limited our sense of self to the surface waves of our mind. Limited ourselves still further by the reactivity and conditioning we cling to, and the masks we defend and display.
Uneasy. Restless. Perhaps even mad.
When Jung asked Ochwiay Biano why he thought the whites were mad, he replied, "They say they think with their heads."
Placing a hand on his heart, he said, "We think here."
What would that mean, to think with our hearts?
How might it feel to climb down from these carefully constructed ships of identity? To release the compulsion to surf waves of thought? To enter the ocean?
How might it feel to come into the body so fully that we once again feel the ground?
How might it feel to re-establish expansion and spaciousness where once was contraction and collapse?
What would happen if we allowed ourselves to breathe: slow, full and into the belly?
Would we begin to feel, perhaps?
What would happen if we really began to feel?
Sir Anthony Hopkins wrote:
“We live in a world where funerals are more important than the deceased, marriage is more important than love, looks are more important than the soul. We live in a packaging culture that despises content."
When did we become so afraid of our depths?
I am finding my practice and work turning back again and again towards liberating these deeper currents which move through us. Liberating the naturally fluid, flowing energies of emotions from the conditioned habit of suppressing them and the carefully developed compulsion to embellish them with story and content.
I am learning, and guiding others who wish to learn too, to embrace emotions here in the body instead, with so much love.
So they simply flow.
Because as we hold that flow with love, something grows in us too. Holding anxiety grows equanimity, and over time we come to discover love’s limitless freedom. Holding anger grows compassion, and liberates love’s graceful power. Holding grief grows courage, and leads us into love’s melting reverence. Holding fear grows trust, and reveals love’s gentle peace.
The wave, becoming still, sinks back into the ocean to remember that freedom, grace, reverence and peace are actually already here.
Who it always was. Who it already is. Who it will always be.
The restless searching, the cold-hearted seeking, soothed. Stilled. Finally home.
Becoming still, we come into the body. We breathe. We unhook from compulsive narratives and soften around congealed beliefs. We receive the support of wisdom, aliveness and beauty flowing towards, around and through us. And we feel, fully, with so much love.
Because we, too, can think with the heart.
And we, too, can respond to life from the heart.
It’s time.
Limitless Undying Love
The Sanskrit and Pali words for suffering (dukkha) and ease (sukha) both share the same root (kha), meaning space.
Ease is the expansion of space, and suffering is the contraction or collapse of space. But both arise and dissolve within space itself. It is space which remains.
This matters because we tend to get lost in the movements of contraction and expansion. We miss the space because our attention gets entangled with the contents within it.
Without awareness of space, we often obsess over what we hate. We attempt to destroy, hide or distract from discomfort, even though it hurts still more to go to war. When we collapse into life’s inevitable contractions, we are no longer able to breathe inside them.
And without awareness of space, we also obsess over what we love. We attempt to consume, possess and hold onto things which dissolve regardless, like lamenting the passing of blossoms in Spring even as they explode into bloom. When we contract around life’s effortless expansion, it can no longer sing its song.
When instead we become curious about that which holds and infuses these joys and pains, we are able to experience the great mystery of space itself. Even though it can’t be defined, space is palpable. We can know it directly through the way it feels.
When the mystery of space is felt directly, we refer to it in reverence and wonder, using different words to describe the indescribable. One such word is simply Love.
“Limitless undying love which shines around me like a million suns, it calls me on and on across the universe” ~ John Lennon
And so this is the truth we keep forgetting: that everything we believe, think, feel and perceive arises from, is held within, and dissolves back into love. Each time we contract around an experience, whether pleasant or unpleasant, we collapse our capacity to feel the space of love.
In doing so, we feel separate from love. This is the crux of suffering, both our own, and the suffering we inflict on others. Nothing hurts more than feeling separate from love.
Perhaps all existential pain comes from this illusion of being separate and alone? The fear of being banished, of doing something wrong, of not being ok: all founded on the terrifying idea that it’s possible to be separated from love. Like the wave terrified of being not enough, forgetting it’s simply the cresting energy of a vast and benevolent ocean.
And all our violence towards each other comes from this same illusion. How else can we speak of enemies and the necessity to defend ourselves from their violence with still more violence, other than by separating waves from the ocean?
Love can be fierce, it’s true. It acts powerfully and decisively in defence of further harm when necessary. Sometimes it needs to shock us to wake us up. But love always curls back to wonder what caused this wave - that is you and yet also me - to contract in the first place? What was hurting? What was not yet understood? Where were we both contracting around space?
It’s true that love invites us to stand up in defence of violation. But violation runs deep and wide in our world, and most of the time we’re unconsciously complicit in it too. So how do we allow love’s fire to alchemise violence whilst forgiving those who perpetuate it - and whilst recognising that this includes ourselves too?
Because there’s a sea-change arising within and around us, inviting us to see old ways in a new light. Have you noticed? With these new eyes, we’re seeing the horrors of war, oppression, racism and sexism, as if for the first time. At these moments of change, we teeter at the threshold of falling into the same old divides draped in new clothing, or discovering something entirely new.
With a heart waking up to living with integrity, in a world waking up to systemic violence, can we recognise that we are utterly fallible as human beings, whilst still celebrating our capacity and longing for redemption? Can we stand up for what is right, whilst noticing the goodness of this tender heart, too: how deeply we love, how profoundly we care?
Because fear only makes space for the violence of this world, searching for outrage and which side to take. But - really - if we could see energies of fear and love from space, though there would be areas contracted in violence all around, wouldn’t we mostly see a planet radiating with moment-to-moment acts of everyday love?
We tend to highlight - even obsess over - the way fear feels and moves. How it grips us with the compulsion to fight, freeze or flee; how it feels justified by the horrors and threats of this world. Yet these horrors and threats, whilst all very real, are utterly imbalanced beside the truth of our everyday, daily acts of love and care.
If we choose to turn our attention towards the ways love feels and flows, we begin to notice it all around us. We begin to notice that alongside the acts of violence, with which fear is more familiar, there is extraordinary beauty and grace.
We begin to notice, for example, the the way love illuminates the mundane with curiosity, and enlivens the irrelevant with care.
We notice the way it flows into a space of pain to fiercely prevent further harm before resting beside, breathing into and softening around whatever hurts.
We notice the way it expands into beauty with a bubbling of uninhibited delight. The way it widens with infinite space to make room for the whole of life, just as it is.
And we notice love moving in endless flow between giving, receiving and simply being. With the persistent, unfailing invitation for us to step into its sacred dance.
Space isn’t empty, it’s utterly full. In these times of tumult and pain, we need love’s gentle humility and fierce grace to hold and guide us. Let’s remember the space which holds life’s suffering and ease.
Let’s remember this space to be love.
The Sanskrit and Pali words for suffering (dukkha) and ease (sukha) both share the same root (kha), meaning space.
Ease is the expansion of space, and suffering is the contraction or collapse of space. But both arise and dissolve within space itself. It is space which remains.
This matters because we tend to get lost in the movements of contraction and expansion. We miss the space because our attention gets entangled with the contents within it.
Without awareness of space, we often obsess over what we hate. We attempt to destroy, hide or distract from discomfort, even though it hurts still more to go to war. When we collapse into life’s inevitable contractions, we are no longer able to breathe inside them.
And without awareness of space, we also obsess over what we love. We attempt to consume, possess and hold onto things which dissolve regardless, like lamenting the passing of blossoms in Spring even as they explode into bloom. When we contract around life’s effortless expansion, it can no longer sing its song.
When instead we become curious about that which holds and infuses these joys and pains, we are able to experience the great mystery of space itself. Even though it can’t be defined, space is palpable. We can know it directly through the way it feels.
When the mystery of space is felt directly, we refer to it in reverence and wonder, using different words to describe the indescribable. One such word is simply Love.
“Limitless undying love which shines around me like a million suns, it calls me on and on across the universe” ~ John Lennon
And so this is the truth we keep forgetting: that everything we believe, think, feel and perceive arises from, is held within, and dissolves back into love. Each time we contract around an experience, whether pleasant or unpleasant, we collapse our capacity to feel the space of love.
In doing so, we feel separate from love. This is the crux of suffering, both our own, and the suffering we inflict on others. Nothing hurts more than feeling separate from love.
Perhaps all existential pain comes from this illusion of being separate and alone? The fear of being banished, of doing something wrong, of not being ok: all founded on the terrifying idea that it’s possible to be separated from love. Like the wave terrified of being not enough, forgetting it’s simply the cresting energy of a vast and benevolent ocean.
And all our violence towards each other comes from this same illusion. How else can we speak of enemies and the necessity to defend ourselves from their violence with still more violence, other than by separating waves from the ocean?
Love can be fierce, it’s true. It acts powerfully and decisively in defence of further harm when necessary. Sometimes it needs to shock us to wake us up. But love always curls back to wonder what caused this wave - that is you and yet also me - to contract in the first place? What was hurting? What was not yet understood? Where were we both contracting around space?
It’s true that love invites us to stand up in defence of violation. But violation runs deep and wide in our world, and most of the time we’re unconsciously complicit in it too. So how do we allow love’s fire to alchemise violence whilst forgiving those who perpetuate it - and whilst recognising that this includes ourselves too?
Because there’s a sea-change arising within and around us, inviting us to see old ways in a new light. Have you noticed? With these new eyes, we’re seeing the horrors of war, oppression, racism and sexism, as if for the first time. At these moments of change, we teeter at the threshold of falling into the same old divides draped in new clothing, or discovering something entirely new.
With a heart waking up to living with integrity, in a world waking up to systemic violence, can we recognise that we are utterly fallible as human beings, whilst still celebrating our capacity and longing for redemption? Can we stand up for what is right, whilst noticing the goodness of this tender heart, too: how deeply we love, how profoundly we care?
Because fear only makes space for the violence of this world, searching for outrage and which side to take. But - really - if we could see energies of fear and love from space, though there would be areas contracted in violence all around, wouldn’t we mostly see a planet radiating with moment-to-moment acts of everyday love?
We tend to highlight - even obsess over - the way fear feels and moves. How it grips us with the compulsion to fight, freeze or flee; how it feels justified by the horrors and threats of this world. Yet these horrors and threats, whilst all very real, are utterly imbalanced beside the truth of our everyday, daily acts of love and care.
If we choose to turn our attention towards the ways love feels and flows, we begin to notice it all around us. We begin to notice that alongside the acts of violence, with which fear is more familiar, there is extraordinary beauty and grace.
We begin to notice, for example, the the way love illuminates the mundane with curiosity, and enlivens the irrelevant with care.
We notice the way it flows into a space of pain to fiercely prevent further harm before resting beside, breathing into and softening around whatever hurts.
We notice the way it expands into beauty with a bubbling of uninhibited delight. The way it widens with infinite space to make room for the whole of life, just as it is.
And we notice love moving in endless flow between giving, receiving and simply being. With the persistent, unfailing invitation for us to step into its sacred dance.
Space isn’t empty, it’s utterly full. In these times of tumult and pain, we need love’s gentle humility and fierce grace to hold and guide us. Let’s remember the space which holds life’s suffering and ease.
Let’s remember this space to be love.
Optimism, Forgiveness & Faith
Amongst the litany of ecological, social and political devastation which surrounds us, optimism may appear foolish, belonging only to denialists or fantasists. But optimism doesn’t suggest that transformation looks pretty or will be easy or comfortable. Simply that transformation is possible.
Optimism for collective transformation grows through direct experience of cycles of personal transformation. Healing is a journey which is often profoundly uncomfortable before it can be liberating. It asks us to bring ever more pieces of ourselves, individually and collectively, from the shadow of the unconscious and reactive into the light of love. To do this necessitates a painful stage of seeing our reactive habits without yet having the ability to choose another way.
This evolutionary journey is described by the four stages of competence model, which highlights the stages of learning that we all move through. We start in unconscious incompetence, move into conscious incompetence, then into conscious competence before finally arriving in unconscious competence. It’s a model which can give some orientation when we’re feeling lost and disheartened, helping us see that we have the potential to be part of an evolving journey, rather than stuck permanently in a slow-motion car crash.
In the first stage, we’re completely unaware of our habitual behaviours and actions. We attack if we feel hurt; we believe ourselves to be victims even if we have been violent ourselves; we blame others and believe our stories to be absolutely true; we use these narratives to hide from our shame and we numb our pain with addiction. We try to get what we think we want, avoid or push away what we think we don’t want, and distract from anything neutral that reveals the void we are escaping.
These patterns may sound depressingly familiar when we look at the world around us. But remember we’re also unaware of the places inside us which still operate unconsciously as well. This doesn’t only happen to other people. The very nature of this stage is that we don’t know we’re in it!
Ironically, perhaps, it’s suffering which saves us.
The violence of these movements create pain for ourselves and others which eventually demands that we stop and take notice. And this noticing takes us into the second stage. Here, we finally become aware of things which had been normalised or unconsciously accepted before. This can be an extremely unsettling and disconcerting stage, because we’re not yet able to respond in a new way. It’s as if we’re watching ourselves self-destruct, yet unable to stop the habits playing out. To begin with, we might only be aware of our actions after experiencing the painful fallout. On a global scale it’s equivalent to only becoming aware of systemic injustices after a crisis - a pattern we’re coming to recognise. But over time, we gradually catch things earlier and earlier. First we see it while it's happening, and eventually we catch the inner movements before they manifest.
Although this is painful and can feel disempowering and disheartening, it’s important to remember that it’s an essential stage which can’t be bypassed. It’s not a sign of failure, but a necessary step in a path of learning and growth. If we can’t see what we’re doing, individually or collectively, we can’t choose another way.
Conscious choice is the third stage of the learning path. To rewire destructive habits takes patience and practice because we need to repeat another way of being until it becomes the new default expression. It is here at this third stage that most of the focus of spiritual practice lies. Practising holding the physical body in its open and aligned state, before we return to habitual patterns of contraction and collapse. Practising bringing the mind to the present moment and becoming aware of the movement of reactivity, before we lose ourselves in old stories again. Practising connecting to the wider web around us, before we retract into our illusory bubble. Practising meeting life with curiosity, care, compassion, delight and spaciousness, rather than viewing it as an enemy to defeat.
Each time we pause in the midst of suffering and choose to come into the body, breathe deeply, release unhelpful stories, receive support and feel what is alive in the body with love, we are choosing a path of love. This eventually becomes so natural that it arises by itself.
This is the final stage of growth, where we relax into expressing love’s natural response. But it’s not an idealised state available only to saints and gurus. There will be many parts of our experience, right now, where we express this ease and grace. The path is not linear: we inhabit different stages simultaneously in different areas of experience, at personal, interpersonal and collective levels. It is possible to be completely awake and aware in some areas of life, and entirely unconscious and reactive in others. All we can do is align our deepest aspiration with love, commit to practice, and remain open to receive the messenger of suffering as we trust this path of transformation.
It is a path woven with both surrender and commitment. We may start to meditate only to discover quite how crazy the mind is; yet with each release and return we strengthen the pathway of presence. We may begin to practise yoga postures only to discover how stiff and weak the body is; yet with each realignment and engagement, the body releases and stabilises. We may choose to no longer normalise war and oppression, and by opening to receive it everywhere around us we allow its suffering to elicit a new kind of conversation.
We open to the possibility that we’re here to learn from life’s classroom, and dance in its playground. And that both classroom and playground arise from a wholehearted, unconditional, uninhibited surrender to this moment - exactly as it is.
Because the truth is, it’s hard to be human. It’s hard to feel so deeply, to have a fragile body and a reactive mind. It’s hard to hold onto a life slipping through our fingers, and to push away a life which continues to unfold in ways we don’t like. It’s hard to be dependent on imperfect others. And it’s also hard to feel separate and alone. It’s hard to accept our fallibility, to have clouded access to clear vision and operate from unconscious narratives defending hidden emotions.
It’s hard when we don’t know we’re hurting ourselves and each other as we blunder blindly with flailing arms, looking for a path which feels like home. And it’s hard when we do know we’re hurting ourselves and each other, yet feel unable to stop the slow-motion car crash of our lives. It’s hard to receive the brokenness all around as we slow down and wake up to a world which is choosing to live in war.
It’s hard to be human, and yet, love never leaves us.
This changes everything. Love is already here in the air we breathe, in the water we drink and the food we eat. It’s already here in each heartbeat, each thought, sight, taste, smell, sound, sensation and movement. Love is already here, resting beside each pain, celebrating each delight and expanding into the great unknown with infinite patience and warmth. Love effortlessly flows into giving and receiving, and mysteriously radiates in wordless Being. Love’s presence is known in the moment we choose to recognise, allow and participate in the dance of its ongoing flavours and flow.
It’s hard to be human, yet love never leaves us. Which means all is already forgiven.
Because nothing exists in isolation. Every cause of every pain and suffering is a symptom of something else. This human heart is extraordinarily tender, and at any point if it had known better, it would have done better.
So let’s practise making no-one into an enemy, friends. Let’s attempt to understand each other, recognising that delusion and violence are always founded in distortion and pain. Life is a classroom, and suffering is the messenger which returns us to love through the hallways of forgiveness. When we and others trip up and fall down, forgiveness allows us to stand up again to walk a new path, rather than gritting our teeth and doing the same thing over and over again.
It’s hard to be human, but love never leaves us and all is forgiven.
This isn’t a message we’re asked to believe. It’s an experience we’re invited to receive, again and again, by living it into our lives. By pausing in the midst of suffering to create a space of curiosity and care. By bringing our attention to the immediacy of this body and breath as an anchor for loving presence. By releasing the stories we’re circling through and the beliefs we invest in as if they were real - even if they are indeed true. By opening to receive something so much vaster than these ideas and opinions of right and wrong, to remember our place in the web of all things. By feeling the depth and breadth of this tender heart from a new place of safety which no longer tries to manage and control. By recognising, allowing and participating in the dance of love’s ongoing flavours and flow.
Optimism and forgiveness lead us to faith: the experiential, embodied knowing of love. Faith allows a surrender into all that is hard and all that is imperfect because it recognises that something larger is unfolding within and between us. It recognises an evolutionary journey of growth and healing, where a new kind of power is emerging from the ashes of alchemical transformation. A power aligned with love which finds its strength in vulnerability, sensitivity, intuition, nurturance and compassion.
Amongst the litany of ecological, social and political devastation which surrounds us, optimism may appear foolish, belonging only to denialists or fantasists. But optimism doesn’t suggest that transformation looks pretty or will be easy or comfortable. Simply that transformation is possible.
Optimism for collective transformation grows through direct experience of cycles of personal transformation. Healing is a journey which is often profoundly uncomfortable before it can be liberating. It asks us to bring ever more pieces of ourselves, individually and collectively, from the shadow of the unconscious and reactive into the light of love. To do this necessitates a painful stage of seeing our reactive habits without yet having the ability to choose another way.
This evolutionary journey is described by the four stages of competence model, which highlights the stages of learning that we all move through. We start in unconscious incompetence, move into conscious incompetence, then into conscious competence before finally arriving in unconscious competence. It’s a model which can give some orientation when we’re feeling lost and disheartened, helping us see that we have the potential to be part of an evolving journey, rather than stuck permanently in a slow-motion car crash.
In the first stage, we’re completely unaware of our habitual behaviours and actions. We attack if we feel hurt; we believe ourselves to be victims even if we have been violent ourselves; we blame others and believe our stories to be absolutely true; we use these narratives to hide from our shame and we numb our pain with addiction. We try to get what we think we want, avoid or push away what we think we don’t want, and distract from anything neutral that reveals the void we are escaping.
These patterns may sound depressingly familiar when we look at the world around us. But remember we’re also unaware of the places inside us which still operate unconsciously as well. This doesn’t only happen to other people. The very nature of this stage is that we don’t know we’re in it!
Ironically, perhaps, it’s suffering which saves us.
The violence of these movements create pain for ourselves and others which eventually demands that we stop and take notice. And this noticing takes us into the second stage. Here, we finally become aware of things which had been normalised or unconsciously accepted before. This can be an extremely unsettling and disconcerting stage, because we’re not yet able to respond in a new way. It’s as if we’re watching ourselves self-destruct, yet unable to stop the habits playing out. To begin with, we might only be aware of our actions after experiencing the painful fallout. On a global scale it’s equivalent to only becoming aware of systemic injustices after a crisis - a pattern we’re coming to recognise. But over time, we gradually catch things earlier and earlier. First we see it while it's happening, and eventually we catch the inner movements before they manifest.
Although this is painful and can feel disempowering and disheartening, it’s important to remember that it’s an essential stage which can’t be bypassed. It’s not a sign of failure, but a necessary step in a path of learning and growth. If we can’t see what we’re doing, individually or collectively, we can’t choose another way.
Conscious choice is the third stage of the learning path. To rewire destructive habits takes patience and practice because we need to repeat another way of being until it becomes the new default expression. It is here at this third stage that most of the focus of spiritual practice lies. Practising holding the physical body in its open and aligned state, before we return to habitual patterns of contraction and collapse. Practising bringing the mind to the present moment and becoming aware of the movement of reactivity, before we lose ourselves in old stories again. Practising connecting to the wider web around us, before we retract into our illusory bubble. Practising meeting life with curiosity, care, compassion, delight and spaciousness, rather than viewing it as an enemy to defeat.
Each time we pause in the midst of suffering and choose to come into the body, breathe deeply, release unhelpful stories, receive support and feel what is alive in the body with love, we are choosing a path of love. This eventually becomes so natural that it arises by itself.
This is the final stage of growth, where we relax into expressing love’s natural response. But it’s not an idealised state available only to saints and gurus. There will be many parts of our experience, right now, where we express this ease and grace. The path is not linear: we inhabit different stages simultaneously in different areas of experience, at personal, interpersonal and collective levels. It is possible to be completely awake and aware in some areas of life, and entirely unconscious and reactive in others. All we can do is align our deepest aspiration with love, commit to practice, and remain open to receive the messenger of suffering as we trust this path of transformation.
It is a path woven with both surrender and commitment. We may start to meditate only to discover quite how crazy the mind is; yet with each release and return we strengthen the pathway of presence. We may begin to practise yoga postures only to discover how stiff and weak the body is; yet with each realignment and engagement, the body releases and stabilises. We may choose to no longer normalise war and oppression, and by opening to receive it everywhere around us we allow its suffering to elicit a new kind of conversation.
We open to the possibility that we’re here to learn from life’s classroom, and dance in its playground. And that both classroom and playground arise from a wholehearted, unconditional, uninhibited surrender to this moment - exactly as it is.
Because the truth is, it’s hard to be human. It’s hard to feel so deeply, to have a fragile body and a reactive mind. It’s hard to hold onto a life slipping through our fingers, and to push away a life which continues to unfold in ways we don’t like. It’s hard to be dependent on imperfect others. And it’s also hard to feel separate and alone. It’s hard to accept our fallibility, to have clouded access to clear vision and operate from unconscious narratives defending hidden emotions.
It’s hard when we don’t know we’re hurting ourselves and each other as we blunder blindly with flailing arms, looking for a path which feels like home. And it’s hard when we do know we’re hurting ourselves and each other, yet feel unable to stop the slow-motion car crash of our lives. It’s hard to receive the brokenness all around as we slow down and wake up to a world which is choosing to live in war.
It’s hard to be human, and yet, love never leaves us.
This changes everything. Love is already here in the air we breathe, in the water we drink and the food we eat. It’s already here in each heartbeat, each thought, sight, taste, smell, sound, sensation and movement. Love is already here, resting beside each pain, celebrating each delight and expanding into the great unknown with infinite patience and warmth. Love effortlessly flows into giving and receiving, and mysteriously radiates in wordless Being. Love’s presence is known in the moment we choose to recognise, allow and participate in the dance of its ongoing flavours and flow.
It’s hard to be human, yet love never leaves us. Which means all is already forgiven.
Because nothing exists in isolation. Every cause of every pain and suffering is a symptom of something else. This human heart is extraordinarily tender, and at any point if it had known better, it would have done better.
So let’s practise making no-one into an enemy, friends. Let’s attempt to understand each other, recognising that delusion and violence are always founded in distortion and pain. Life is a classroom, and suffering is the messenger which returns us to love through the hallways of forgiveness. When we and others trip up and fall down, forgiveness allows us to stand up again to walk a new path, rather than gritting our teeth and doing the same thing over and over again.
It’s hard to be human, but love never leaves us and all is forgiven.
This isn’t a message we’re asked to believe. It’s an experience we’re invited to receive, again and again, by living it into our lives. By pausing in the midst of suffering to create a space of curiosity and care. By bringing our attention to the immediacy of this body and breath as an anchor for loving presence. By releasing the stories we’re circling through and the beliefs we invest in as if they were real - even if they are indeed true. By opening to receive something so much vaster than these ideas and opinions of right and wrong, to remember our place in the web of all things. By feeling the depth and breadth of this tender heart from a new place of safety which no longer tries to manage and control. By recognising, allowing and participating in the dance of love’s ongoing flavours and flow.
Optimism and forgiveness lead us to faith: the experiential, embodied knowing of love. Faith allows a surrender into all that is hard and all that is imperfect because it recognises that something larger is unfolding within and between us. It recognises an evolutionary journey of growth and healing, where a new kind of power is emerging from the ashes of alchemical transformation. A power aligned with love which finds its strength in vulnerability, sensitivity, intuition, nurturance and compassion.
Slow Down
Last night I dreamt I was in a car careering much too fast down a street, narrowly missing parked cars and having to hold my breath and hope as I swung into oncoming traffic at the T-junction ahead. I woke up with a start. But then I laughed, understanding the message straight away.
Slow Down.
A few days ago I finished a book which feels like its been writing itself through me for the last three and a half years. I had expected to feel elated, but I felt strange and disjointed. There was some grief at the ending of something profoundly intimate and personal; some fear at letting it go into the next stage of its journey. But mostly there were internal barriers to taking the next step. My plan was to read it through before sending it to friends who had offered to help, but in front of the screen my mind went blank. The car kept stalling.
I actually never set out to write a book. The need to write came more as a conversation between my heart and my mind. By articulating my heart’s deepest, and emerging, knowing through a language my mind could make sense of, and by reading these words back to myself and digesting them through life, I found myself more able to live this heart-knowing into my life. A heart wisdom embodied through a labour of love.
So although I never knew exactly where it was taking me, I learnt that when things became flat and uninspiring, I had taken a wrong turn. For a while I would keep trying to push, but when I finally surrendered, something new emerged. An insight received, an understanding embodied. A new door opened.
But when a few days ago the finish-line came in sight, I slammed on the accelerator and rushed towards it. The last chapters still half-baked, I put a full-stop down and said it was done. My mind shouted, I’ve got there! But nothing moved. The car had stalled.
I could have pushed harder, I suppose. Drunk coffee, written goal-orientated plans, set ultimatums, listened to motivational talks. But I had spent two years learning to listen and receive instead, so I grudgingly stepped back and made space.
I went to a yoga workshop where we practised digital pranayama to control the flow of air. We followed this using intention alone, inviting the skin of the nostrils to move down against the flow of air as we inhaled; inviting the skin to move up as we exhaled. Everything slowed down, and rather than taking a breath, I felt myself respectfully receiving it. Rather than dumping the exhalation, I was reverently giving it back.
Receiving with respect, giving back with reverence.
Then came the dream, and I finally realised that having got this far being guided by the Universe, by a dance unfolding between heart and head, I had unknowingly contracted into old patterns of pushing and striving.
Seeing this clearly and smiling with forgiveness, something finally relaxed back into the flow of life, and I returned to trusting the ongoing conversation which has supported and guided me for so long.
With ease and joy returning as well, the car is slowing down, parking even. So that I can walk down the street and smell the spring in the air, hear the birds and feel the ground.
So that I can look around and soberly see what this world looks like when we take and dump while careering to the finish-line, so afraid not to get somewhere, be someone, have something...
So that I can choose to slow down instead, receiving with respect and giving back with reverence, trusting - and then feeling - that everything I’m searching for is already here.
Last night I dreamt I was in a car careering much too fast down a street, narrowly missing parked cars and having to hold my breath and hope as I swung into oncoming traffic at the T-junction ahead. I woke up with a start. But then I laughed, understanding the message straight away.
Slow Down.
A few days ago I finished a book which feels like its been writing itself through me for the last three and a half years. I had expected to feel elated, but I felt strange and disjointed. There was some grief at the ending of something profoundly intimate and personal; some fear at letting it go into the next stage of its journey. But mostly there were internal barriers to taking the next step. My plan was to read it through before sending it to friends who had offered to help, but in front of the screen my mind went blank. The car kept stalling.
I actually never set out to write a book. The need to write came more as a conversation between my heart and my mind. By articulating my heart’s deepest, and emerging, knowing through a language my mind could make sense of, and by reading these words back to myself and digesting them through life, I found myself more able to live this heart-knowing into my life. A heart wisdom embodied through a labour of love.
So although I never knew exactly where it was taking me, I learnt that when things became flat and uninspiring, I had taken a wrong turn. For a while I would keep trying to push, but when I finally surrendered, something new emerged. An insight received, an understanding embodied. A new door opened.
But when a few days ago the finish-line came in sight, I slammed on the accelerator and rushed towards it. The last chapters still half-baked, I put a full-stop down and said it was done. My mind shouted, I’ve got there! But nothing moved. The car had stalled.
I could have pushed harder, I suppose. Drunk coffee, written goal-orientated plans, set ultimatums, listened to motivational talks. But I had spent two years learning to listen and receive instead, so I grudgingly stepped back and made space.
I went to a yoga workshop where we practised digital pranayama to control the flow of air. We followed this using intention alone, inviting the skin of the nostrils to move down against the flow of air as we inhaled; inviting the skin to move up as we exhaled. Everything slowed down, and rather than taking a breath, I felt myself respectfully receiving it. Rather than dumping the exhalation, I was reverently giving it back.
Receiving with respect, giving back with reverence.
Then came the dream, and I finally realised that having got this far being guided by the Universe, by a dance unfolding between heart and head, I had unknowingly contracted into old patterns of pushing and striving.
Seeing this clearly and smiling with forgiveness, something finally relaxed back into the flow of life, and I returned to trusting the ongoing conversation which has supported and guided me for so long.
With ease and joy returning as well, the car is slowing down, parking even. So that I can walk down the street and smell the spring in the air, hear the birds and feel the ground.
So that I can look around and soberly see what this world looks like when we take and dump while careering to the finish-line, so afraid not to get somewhere, be someone, have something...
So that I can choose to slow down instead, receiving with respect and giving back with reverence, trusting - and then feeling - that everything I’m searching for is already here.
Living in Love
I had intended to join the “Peace is Every Step” walking meditation in London today, alongside some of you here. But it is also the anniversary of my father’s death, so I needed to find a personal expression of this heartfelt prayer rather than a collective one. I’m sharing a few experiences from my practice this morning in case you find resonance and solidarity in these words.
In my meditation, grief quite naturally came forward first. My heart is aching from both the long journey with my father and the unfathomable depth of suffering currently alive in the world. It takes such courage to hold loving space for grief without jumping into numbing, fixing or distracting. I watched how quickly my mind moved into overwhelm (“the scale of these problems are just too big”) and self-judgement (“what I’m doing is never enough”).
For me, though I practise anchoring the mind with loving presence in a meditation practice, whatever arises in the body is not a distraction, even if it differs from my initial intention. It is the place love is being called to attend, first. By coming into the body, releasing the stories and feeling what is here, with love, I am witness to love’s presence and expansion.
So in my meditation I turned towards overwhelm with curiosity and care. Releasing its stories, I discovered fear waiting behind them. I gave fear permission, breathed into its tension in my diaphragm, told it that it belongs here too. That it’s safe here. And slowly I began to feel love’s embrace holding it.
Love’s embrace came with the reminder that transformation is always hard, but it is our participation in this alchemical fire which determines what grows: whether love or fear. I felt how healing it is to meet fear with love, rather than the suffering and destruction of walking through life acting from fear. I recognised how I had more capacity to receive life’s complexity and confusion without closing my heart.
At some point, self-judgement came forward again. The crippling sense of not being enough, not doing enough. So I turned my attention there, releasing its stories and meeting its tension in my body with love. The tightness in my breathing and the familiar diminished sense of self began to feel like they were held with forgiveness. I found myself able to forgive my smallness and my fallibility. A little more able to relax into the naturalness of my imperfect humanness.
I began to feel judgement itself held in forgiveness. And once again I felt how healing it is to meet judgement with love, rather than the tightness and meanness of walking through life acting from judgement. I felt more capacity to act in alignment with love, more openness to wonder what my own authentic expression really is.
From these practices a beautiful reminder began to emerge: that alongside our individual journeys of transformation, there is a collective transformation which we’re witnessing right now. Together, we are One Being moving through the birth canal of transformation. Each one of us is a cell of that Being, doing what is ours to do. This is the journey of a collective shedding of old skin, a collective version of the Biblical walk through the valley of death to reach the temple of light.
We are very much still in that valley of death, but everything each one of us does in service of love as a cell in the body of humanity, influences the whole. Whether marching on the streets or taking care of a child or a neighbour. Whether patiently creating new laws in parliament or patiently following the delight of a 5 year old baking biscuits in the kitchen.
Gabor Mate has said a few times that all we can do is our best, knowing it will never be enough. And yet each individual not-enoughness leads to a collective sea-change. If we can begin with the willingness to receive the enormity of the tragedies at hand and the changes ahead - without knowing the answer but without turning away - we grow into finding and expressing our small but necessary part in turning the heart and mind of this collective Being towards something new.
I am so happy to know that some of you - other sister and brother cells in our shared body - walked in prayers for peace today. And whether others of you found your own expression of peace or were lost all day in a storm of reactivity, I hope you are able to find a moment, right now, to meet yourself just as you are. Meeting yourself even in grief, fear or judgement with love’s courage, belonging and forgiveness.
I am happy to think of all of us, in our own small and large ways, as living, walking, sitting and moving prayers for peace, right now, together in this body of love.
I had intended to join the “Peace is Every Step” walking meditation in London today, alongside some of you here. But it is also the anniversary of my father’s death, so I needed to find a personal expression of this heartfelt prayer rather than a collective one. I’m sharing a few experiences from my practice this morning in case you find resonance and solidarity in these words.
In my meditation, grief quite naturally came forward first. My heart is aching from both the long journey with my father and the unfathomable depth of suffering currently alive in the world. It takes such courage to hold loving space for grief without jumping into numbing, fixing or distracting. I watched how quickly my mind moved into overwhelm (“the scale of these problems are just too big”) and self-judgement (“what I’m doing is never enough”).
For me, though I practise anchoring the mind with loving presence in a meditation practice, whatever arises in the body is not a distraction, even if it differs from my initial intention. It is the place love is being called to attend, first. By coming into the body, releasing the stories and feeling what is here, with love, I am witness to love’s presence and expansion.
So in my meditation I turned towards overwhelm with curiosity and care. Releasing its stories, I discovered fear waiting behind them. I gave fear permission, breathed into its tension in my diaphragm, told it that it belongs here too. That it’s safe here. And slowly I began to feel love’s embrace holding it.
Love’s embrace came with the reminder that transformation is always hard, but it is our participation in this alchemical fire which determines what grows: whether love or fear. I felt how healing it is to meet fear with love, rather than the suffering and destruction of walking through life acting from fear. I recognised how I had more capacity to receive life’s complexity and confusion without closing my heart.
At some point, self-judgement came forward again. The crippling sense of not being enough, not doing enough. So I turned my attention there, releasing its stories and meeting its tension in my body with love. The tightness in my breathing and the familiar diminished sense of self began to feel like they were held with forgiveness. I found myself able to forgive my smallness and my fallibility. A little more able to relax into the naturalness of my imperfect humanness.
I began to feel judgement itself held in forgiveness. And once again I felt how healing it is to meet judgement with love, rather than the tightness and meanness of walking through life acting from judgement. I felt more capacity to act in alignment with love, more openness to wonder what my own authentic expression really is.
From these practices a beautiful reminder began to emerge: that alongside our individual journeys of transformation, there is a collective transformation which we’re witnessing right now. Together, we are One Being moving through the birth canal of transformation. Each one of us is a cell of that Being, doing what is ours to do. This is the journey of a collective shedding of old skin, a collective version of the Biblical walk through the valley of death to reach the temple of light.
We are very much still in that valley of death, but everything each one of us does in service of love as a cell in the body of humanity, influences the whole. Whether marching on the streets or taking care of a child or a neighbour. Whether patiently creating new laws in parliament or patiently following the delight of a 5 year old baking biscuits in the kitchen.
Gabor Mate has said a few times that all we can do is our best, knowing it will never be enough. And yet each individual not-enoughness leads to a collective sea-change. If we can begin with the willingness to receive the enormity of the tragedies at hand and the changes ahead - without knowing the answer but without turning away - we grow into finding and expressing our small but necessary part in turning the heart and mind of this collective Being towards something new.
I am so happy to know that some of you - other sister and brother cells in our shared body - walked in prayers for peace today. And whether others of you found your own expression of peace or were lost all day in a storm of reactivity, I hope you are able to find a moment, right now, to meet yourself just as you are. Meeting yourself even in grief, fear or judgement with love’s courage, belonging and forgiveness.
I am happy to think of all of us, in our own small and large ways, as living, walking, sitting and moving prayers for peace, right now, together in this body of love.
Beauty and Aliveness
Welcome to a new year friends. Whatever struggles and joys this year brings, may we remain open to both receiving its lessons and celebrating its beauty and aliveness.
Dharma practice is about the liberation of suffering AND a remembrance of our divine selves. It is this very remembrance which facilitates liberation and allows us to do what we’re here to do. Accessing beauty and aliveness - through communion with nature, each other and this breathing body - is what supports this remembrance more than anything else.
For me, 2024 began with an abundance of beauty and aliveness. After two years apart, I visited my sister who lives on the Hawaiian island of Maui, and I’m storing these blessings for the long winter nights which lie ahead, amidst the debris of devastating struggles in the world needing care and attention. The pain is real, but so is the beauty, and opening to both allows our hearts to remain soft enough to find a path forward which is still aligned with love.
So I offer these gifts to you as a reminder that somewhere on this sparkling, iridescent planet, beauty and aliveness are on full display, calling to that same spark to wake up within you too, wherever and however you are.
In Maui these gifts are technicolour. The aquamarine and deep blue hues fading into infinite depths which carry the songs and clicks of not-so-distant whales. The sunlight reflecting off golden particles of sand as they swirl in the breaking waves. The tropical forests clad with lichen and creepers, carved through with fast flowing rivers, cascading waterfalls and wide eroded pools. The vast moonscape of black, red and orange craters of the sacred Haleakala volcano. The rainbows appearing like playful celebrations in the sky.
It is a great privilege to have witnessed this. But even when the colours are more muted and subtle, reminders of beauty and aliveness are here all around us. It’s available whenever there is wholehearted, unconditional, uninhibited presence: to the rise and fall of this breath, to the sensation of bare feet on the ground, to the lined or fresh face of someone we love.
There is plenty of undeniable suffering in the world. And, at the very same time, there’s also another reality whispering to us in every breeze, inviting us out of our stories of separation - the very stories which lie at the heart of suffering. Even in the frost of a winter morning and the first stars of early afternoon’s descending darkness, it whispers that this world is so much vaster than the stories of us and them which create so much pain. It reminds us that all things pulse with the same aliveness, and that all of this is a mystery of unimaginable beauty. It calls us to listen more deeply to the song singing itself through all of creation and invites us to participate in the mystery of that one sound.
I’ll say it again because we forget, again and again: the world is so much vaster than our stories of me and you, us and them. Whatever else is going on in our lives, somewhere there are waves pounding against the shore and receding back into vast depths. Somewhere there are trees growing towards the light, and rain falling through that same light is somewhere creating rainbows. The moon and sun reflect and radiate even when they can't be seen by our clouded eyes. Life is singing its song even when our ears are deaf to the sound.
We are always part of that one sound regardless, and it is in these moments, struck speechless from our tantrums by wonder and awe, that we remember this. It’s a great privilege to witness the world’s beauty, but it’s an even greater responsibility to remember it when those moments pass.
Because true beauty is inseparable from aliveness. The mountains, forests and oceans are calling us to enter into the sacred dance of aliveness alongside them, to celebrate each other’s beauty as we offer our own gifts back in turn. And as Howard Thurman said in the 1960s, what the world needs is people who have come alive. His words are more relevant now than ever. What the world needs is more and more people who have come alive.
When we are dead to aliveness, we separate it from beauty. At worst, life becomes dead all around us, useful only to consume, and beauty becomes fake and commodified. At best, we reduce even the most beautiful things from sacred dance partners into objects to admire and possess. When we no longer recognise the world as a dance partner calling us back into aliveness, we easily become lost in our stories, fixated on self and afraid of the lonely unknown which appears to exist out there, all around.
This feels particularly relevant right now, both in light of the suffering of the world at large, and because this is a time of year when we are more likely to either start beneficial habits or reinforce existing limiting narratives. What matters more than anything is the energy behind our actions.
The intense reverberations of trauma we are seeing playing out in the world are needing us to attend from a place connected to wholeness. We need to learn how to take care of our internal space so that the way we think, communicate and act isn't motivated by unconscious narratives and undigested emotions. When thoughts and actions are founded in the love which naturally arises from a connection to beauty and aliveness, they ultimately lead to greater benefit rather than further destruction.
The same applies to our new year intentions, which are often no more than guilt-laden self-improvement projects. When we commit to self-improvement from a place of self-hatred, we shame the very parts of us trying to numb their unworthiness by reaching for their favourite distractions. And when we drop our addictive distractions too quickly or carelessly, without attending to the pain they are defending, the underlying trance of unworthiness and story of separation behind them can feel too painful to bear. And so our well-established patterns sweep in to save us once again, but this time with added layers of shame and defeat. Perhaps this is why most new year’s resolutions last no more than several weeks to several months?
If we are to heal the broken places both in the world and within our own bodies, hearts and minds, we need to remember what wholeness feels like first. Remembering that we are inseparable from the beauty of aliveness allows us to breathe deeply again. We begin to trust that it’s safe to feel life’s full spectrum of feelings with love. Safe to feel anger, fear and grief alongside joy, wonder and delight. Safe to express the mystery we find moving through us. Safe to be exactly who we really are. Because who we really are is so far from the violence of how we behave when we’re lost in a trance of separation.
From this place of remembered belonging, our actions and intentions are animated and inspired by love not fear. Our resolutions towards health and harmony are anchored in the remembrance of how alive it feels without the exhaustion of too many late nights, toxic food, a sedentary body and restless mind. We can be kinder towards ourselves and others when we recognise the trance of forgetfulness which lies behind all this. We can support ourselves with access to some form of beauty and aliveness, however small, so that we are more able to give what we are here to give. So that we are more able to be who we are here to be.
We need daily access to the unbroken, and this doesn’t need to come to us from far-off, exotic lands. Whatever it is that reminds you of life’s intrinsic beauty and aliveness, hold them close in these times. This isn’t spiritual bypass or avoidance. It is the very fuel and force which holds us steady, anchored, soft and open in times of struggle and pain. We need to come alive if we are to halt the march of destruction. What the world needs more than ever are soft hearts and open minds able to respond to life’s challenges with the flexibility and grace which arises from direct contact with the love already here in this body, heart and mind. Already here, however hidden, in each other and all around us in this extraordinary world.
For me, daily access to the unbroken comes from yoga, meditation, community and communion with nature. If you feel called, it will be an honour to practice alongside you this year. I’m now taking bookings for my daylong and weeklong retreats, both of which allow the time and space to bring yoga, meditation, community and nature immersion together. Practising Iyengar and yin yoga, meditating, sharing, walking in ancient woodland, swimming in invigorating wild water, warming in saunas and sunshine, we begin to feel whole again. We remember the beauty and aliveness that is already here, always inviting us to participate in the one sound of its unending song.
Welcome to a new year friends. Whatever struggles and joys this year brings, may we remain open to both receiving its lessons and celebrating its beauty and aliveness.
Dharma practice is about the liberation of suffering AND a remembrance of our divine selves. It is this very remembrance which facilitates liberation and allows us to do what we’re here to do. Accessing beauty and aliveness - through communion with nature, each other and this breathing body - is what supports this remembrance more than anything else.
For me, 2024 began with an abundance of beauty and aliveness. After two years apart, I visited my sister who lives on the Hawaiian island of Maui, and I’m storing these blessings for the long winter nights which lie ahead, amidst the debris of devastating struggles in the world needing care and attention. The pain is real, but so is the beauty, and opening to both allows our hearts to remain soft enough to find a path forward which is still aligned with love.
So I offer these gifts to you as a reminder that somewhere on this sparkling, iridescent planet, beauty and aliveness are on full display, calling to that same spark to wake up within you too, wherever and however you are.
In Maui these gifts are technicolour. The aquamarine and deep blue hues fading into infinite depths which carry the songs and clicks of not-so-distant whales. The sunlight reflecting off golden particles of sand as they swirl in the breaking waves. The tropical forests clad with lichen and creepers, carved through with fast flowing rivers, cascading waterfalls and wide eroded pools. The vast moonscape of black, red and orange craters of the sacred Haleakala volcano. The rainbows appearing like playful celebrations in the sky.
It is a great privilege to have witnessed this. But even when the colours are more muted and subtle, reminders of beauty and aliveness are here all around us. It’s available whenever there is wholehearted, unconditional, uninhibited presence: to the rise and fall of this breath, to the sensation of bare feet on the ground, to the lined or fresh face of someone we love.
There is plenty of undeniable suffering in the world. And, at the very same time, there’s also another reality whispering to us in every breeze, inviting us out of our stories of separation - the very stories which lie at the heart of suffering. Even in the frost of a winter morning and the first stars of early afternoon’s descending darkness, it whispers that this world is so much vaster than the stories of us and them which create so much pain. It reminds us that all things pulse with the same aliveness, and that all of this is a mystery of unimaginable beauty. It calls us to listen more deeply to the song singing itself through all of creation and invites us to participate in the mystery of that one sound.
I’ll say it again because we forget, again and again: the world is so much vaster than our stories of me and you, us and them. Whatever else is going on in our lives, somewhere there are waves pounding against the shore and receding back into vast depths. Somewhere there are trees growing towards the light, and rain falling through that same light is somewhere creating rainbows. The moon and sun reflect and radiate even when they can't be seen by our clouded eyes. Life is singing its song even when our ears are deaf to the sound.
We are always part of that one sound regardless, and it is in these moments, struck speechless from our tantrums by wonder and awe, that we remember this. It’s a great privilege to witness the world’s beauty, but it’s an even greater responsibility to remember it when those moments pass.
Because true beauty is inseparable from aliveness. The mountains, forests and oceans are calling us to enter into the sacred dance of aliveness alongside them, to celebrate each other’s beauty as we offer our own gifts back in turn. And as Howard Thurman said in the 1960s, what the world needs is people who have come alive. His words are more relevant now than ever. What the world needs is more and more people who have come alive.
When we are dead to aliveness, we separate it from beauty. At worst, life becomes dead all around us, useful only to consume, and beauty becomes fake and commodified. At best, we reduce even the most beautiful things from sacred dance partners into objects to admire and possess. When we no longer recognise the world as a dance partner calling us back into aliveness, we easily become lost in our stories, fixated on self and afraid of the lonely unknown which appears to exist out there, all around.
This feels particularly relevant right now, both in light of the suffering of the world at large, and because this is a time of year when we are more likely to either start beneficial habits or reinforce existing limiting narratives. What matters more than anything is the energy behind our actions.
The intense reverberations of trauma we are seeing playing out in the world are needing us to attend from a place connected to wholeness. We need to learn how to take care of our internal space so that the way we think, communicate and act isn't motivated by unconscious narratives and undigested emotions. When thoughts and actions are founded in the love which naturally arises from a connection to beauty and aliveness, they ultimately lead to greater benefit rather than further destruction.
The same applies to our new year intentions, which are often no more than guilt-laden self-improvement projects. When we commit to self-improvement from a place of self-hatred, we shame the very parts of us trying to numb their unworthiness by reaching for their favourite distractions. And when we drop our addictive distractions too quickly or carelessly, without attending to the pain they are defending, the underlying trance of unworthiness and story of separation behind them can feel too painful to bear. And so our well-established patterns sweep in to save us once again, but this time with added layers of shame and defeat. Perhaps this is why most new year’s resolutions last no more than several weeks to several months?
If we are to heal the broken places both in the world and within our own bodies, hearts and minds, we need to remember what wholeness feels like first. Remembering that we are inseparable from the beauty of aliveness allows us to breathe deeply again. We begin to trust that it’s safe to feel life’s full spectrum of feelings with love. Safe to feel anger, fear and grief alongside joy, wonder and delight. Safe to express the mystery we find moving through us. Safe to be exactly who we really are. Because who we really are is so far from the violence of how we behave when we’re lost in a trance of separation.
From this place of remembered belonging, our actions and intentions are animated and inspired by love not fear. Our resolutions towards health and harmony are anchored in the remembrance of how alive it feels without the exhaustion of too many late nights, toxic food, a sedentary body and restless mind. We can be kinder towards ourselves and others when we recognise the trance of forgetfulness which lies behind all this. We can support ourselves with access to some form of beauty and aliveness, however small, so that we are more able to give what we are here to give. So that we are more able to be who we are here to be.
We need daily access to the unbroken, and this doesn’t need to come to us from far-off, exotic lands. Whatever it is that reminds you of life’s intrinsic beauty and aliveness, hold them close in these times. This isn’t spiritual bypass or avoidance. It is the very fuel and force which holds us steady, anchored, soft and open in times of struggle and pain. We need to come alive if we are to halt the march of destruction. What the world needs more than ever are soft hearts and open minds able to respond to life’s challenges with the flexibility and grace which arises from direct contact with the love already here in this body, heart and mind. Already here, however hidden, in each other and all around us in this extraordinary world.
For me, daily access to the unbroken comes from yoga, meditation, community and communion with nature. If you feel called, it will be an honour to practice alongside you this year. I’m now taking bookings for my daylong and weeklong retreats, both of which allow the time and space to bring yoga, meditation, community and nature immersion together. Practising Iyengar and yin yoga, meditating, sharing, walking in ancient woodland, swimming in invigorating wild water, warming in saunas and sunshine, we begin to feel whole again. We remember the beauty and aliveness that is already here, always inviting us to participate in the one sound of its unending song.
You Belong Here
I sometimes wonder how much personal and global suffering stems from a sense of not belonging. Its impact is vast, as we see when narratives of not belonging extend to entire groups. But I wonder if we can trace these movements of xenophobia, transphobia, homophobia, misogyny, misandry and more, to the much more subtle and hidden narratives which we apply to ourselves?
The story of not belonging arises from the illusion of separation. Feeling separate from the body and heart, from each other, this planet and even the universe itself, the mind scrambles to find belonging in identities instead, continually jostling with other minds to be the one who comes out on top.
But the truth of reality is actually radically inclusive and connected: mystics and scientists agree that everything exists as a relational field. And whenever we come close to experiencing this field directly, we experience it as love. And so it is that everything belongs to love. But we forget this of course. And the more we lose ourselves in our stories of separation, the more we inflict suffering on others, which only perpetuates the cycles of further separation and suffering.
As stories of right and wrong escalate, how do we remain connected to our shared humanity and belonging? As activist Mariame Kaba reminds us, “no one enters violence for the first time by committing it.” We’re all in this together. We all have a part to play in this dance of moving further apart or coming closing together. How do we remember that we and all things belong?
The Buddha suggested we ground ourselves in the truth of belonging by taking refuge each day. Traditionally, Buddhists take refuge in the Buddha (awakened beings), Dharma (their teachings) and Sangha (awakening community). But we can also take refuge in a more immediate way, right here, right now. By recognising that this moment is awake; by acknowledging how life is a teacher; by opening to receive the many ways in which we are held, right now, as we embrace suffering with love, again and again.
We can’t do this alone, but no-one can do it for us either. What we can do is continue to rise up in devotion to the love already here behind the noise, in dedication to all the things which brings us home, and in wholehearted support of each other. Because the truth that we belong is the most beautiful truth there is. And when we embody that truth, it’s just the beginning of something new.
“A human being is part of the whole, called by us, ‘Universe’, a part limited in time and space. He experiences himself, his thoughts and feelings as something separated from the rest - a kind of delusion of his consciousness. This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and a few persons nearest to us. Our task is to free ourselves from this prison by widening our circles of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature in its beauty.” ~ Albert Einstein, letter, 1950
I sometimes wonder how much personal and global suffering stems from a sense of not belonging. Its impact is vast, as we see when narratives of not belonging extend to entire groups. But I wonder if we can trace these movements of xenophobia, transphobia, homophobia, misogyny, misandry and more, to the much more subtle and hidden narratives which we apply to ourselves?
The story of not belonging arises from the illusion of separation. Feeling separate from the body and heart, from each other, this planet and even the universe itself, the mind scrambles to find belonging in identities instead, continually jostling with other minds to be the one who comes out on top.
But the truth of reality is actually radically inclusive and connected: mystics and scientists agree that everything exists as a relational field. And whenever we come close to experiencing this field directly, we experience it as love. And so it is that everything belongs to love. But we forget this of course. And the more we lose ourselves in our stories of separation, the more we inflict suffering on others, which only perpetuates the cycles of further separation and suffering.
As stories of right and wrong escalate, how do we remain connected to our shared humanity and belonging? As activist Mariame Kaba reminds us, “no one enters violence for the first time by committing it.” We’re all in this together. We all have a part to play in this dance of moving further apart or coming closing together. How do we remember that we and all things belong?
The Buddha suggested we ground ourselves in the truth of belonging by taking refuge each day. Traditionally, Buddhists take refuge in the Buddha (awakened beings), Dharma (their teachings) and Sangha (awakening community). But we can also take refuge in a more immediate way, right here, right now. By recognising that this moment is awake; by acknowledging how life is a teacher; by opening to receive the many ways in which we are held, right now, as we embrace suffering with love, again and again.
We can’t do this alone, but no-one can do it for us either. What we can do is continue to rise up in devotion to the love already here behind the noise, in dedication to all the things which brings us home, and in wholehearted support of each other. Because the truth that we belong is the most beautiful truth there is. And when we embody that truth, it’s just the beginning of something new.
“A human being is part of the whole, called by us, ‘Universe’, a part limited in time and space. He experiences himself, his thoughts and feelings as something separated from the rest - a kind of delusion of his consciousness. This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and a few persons nearest to us. Our task is to free ourselves from this prison by widening our circles of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature in its beauty.” ~ Albert Einstein, letter, 1950
A Practice for Peace
The Buddha’s capacity to enquire deeply into moment to moment experience revealed three foundational truths about existence: that all things change, that there are no fixed, separate entities, and that we suffer (and create suffering) when we forget this.
Impermanence, non-self and suffering might at first appear nihilistic. But the Buddha’s teachings are practices, not doctrines. He always insisted that people find out for themselves, rather than taking his word for it.
And what happens when we practise is that we begin to experience the inherent freedom and ease of the spaces in-between the stuff of our lives. We taste the love which embraces change with the confidence of nothing to fear. We witness the expansiveness of relaxing our small sense of self into a limitless field of wonder. We feel a patient and tender compassion resting beside suffering which remains unperturbed. We experience a warm luminous intelligence pervading all things.
As countless practitioners through space and time agree, when we practise we experience the inherent goodness of this universe directly. Emptiness is transformed into fullness. Nihilism is transformed into love.
And so the fact that everything changes is transformed into the direct experience that everything is precious.
The fact that nothing is separate is transformed into the embodied knowing that everything matters.
And the fact that suffering is inevitable when we forget these truths is transformed into the realisation that although many actions are unforgivable, each human heart is always forgiven.
What emerges from practice is a direct, embodied knowing of preciousness, responsibility and forgiveness. The taste of peace.
As peace becomes a practice embodied, we begin to walk lightly on this Earth because she is our mother. We begin to listen deeply to each other, especially when we feel hurt, because we are brothers and sisters. We begin to give what is ours to give without knowing what we might receive in return, because we are inseparable parts of an infinite web, and the health of the whole is the health of our soul.
“Our job is to love others without stopping to inquire whether or not they are worthy. That is not our business and, in fact, it is nobody's business. What we are asked to do is to love, and this love itself will render both ourselves and our neighbours worthy.” ~ Thomas Merton
The Buddha’s capacity to enquire deeply into moment to moment experience revealed three foundational truths about existence: that all things change, that there are no fixed, separate entities, and that we suffer (and create suffering) when we forget this.
Impermanence, non-self and suffering might at first appear nihilistic. But the Buddha’s teachings are practices, not doctrines. He always insisted that people find out for themselves, rather than taking his word for it.
And what happens when we practise is that we begin to experience the inherent freedom and ease of the spaces in-between the stuff of our lives. We taste the love which embraces change with the confidence of nothing to fear. We witness the expansiveness of relaxing our small sense of self into a limitless field of wonder. We feel a patient and tender compassion resting beside suffering which remains unperturbed. We experience a warm luminous intelligence pervading all things.
As countless practitioners through space and time agree, when we practise we experience the inherent goodness of this universe directly. Emptiness is transformed into fullness. Nihilism is transformed into love.
And so the fact that everything changes is transformed into the direct experience that everything is precious.
The fact that nothing is separate is transformed into the embodied knowing that everything matters.
And the fact that suffering is inevitable when we forget these truths is transformed into the realisation that although many actions are unforgivable, each human heart is always forgiven.
What emerges from practice is a direct, embodied knowing of preciousness, responsibility and forgiveness. The taste of peace.
As peace becomes a practice embodied, we begin to walk lightly on this Earth because she is our mother. We begin to listen deeply to each other, especially when we feel hurt, because we are brothers and sisters. We begin to give what is ours to give without knowing what we might receive in return, because we are inseparable parts of an infinite web, and the health of the whole is the health of our soul.
“Our job is to love others without stopping to inquire whether or not they are worthy. That is not our business and, in fact, it is nobody's business. What we are asked to do is to love, and this love itself will render both ourselves and our neighbours worthy.” ~ Thomas Merton
Lessons from Silence
I have recently returned from two weeks of attending - and then teaching - silent retreats at the Moulin de Chaves in France. I was a student for the first week, practising 8 hours of meditation a day supported by the graceful guidance of Martin Aylward and Peace Twesigye. In the second week I stepped into the role of guide and teacher as I welcomed 30 women and men into a week of silence, yoga, meditation and embodied dharma.
It was a profound and beautiful experience, which continues to touch us all.
Meanwhile, the Earth continues to warm and humans continue to war.
I was unplugged and in silence when conflict broke out in the Middle East. Emerging a day later with heightened levels of sensitivity and compassion, I was struck by the parallels of our inner and outer journeys. This human heart is profoundly tender. Yet its reactive expression can be devastatingly violent.
Through witnessing my own patterns and recognising them in others over many years, I have become familiar with this paradox. I see how violence is perpetuated when we hold blindly to limiting beliefs, how suppressing or embellishing what we are feeling becomes another form of violence, and how we tend to spiral through similar dynamics in different guises until we choose to meet things in a new way.
I have also come to see that healing and transformation really is possible. Looking back, there are so many holes I no longer fall into. There are fewer undigested feelings, mental constructs and habitual behaviours which hijack me. I’m less reactive, more open and at ease. But more importantly, I have witnessed how this very personal inner transformation impacts other people. I am able to be more present and love more deeply. Being less reactive means I’m less destructive. I am learning to listen, and increasingly trusting the ways I’m asked to show up in the world. And of course this isn’t just me: I witness these transformations in countless other courageous women and men I am blessed to walk alongside. We are waking up and growing up together, walking each other home.
And yet, still, the Earth continues to warm and humans continue to war.
I wish I had more answers to help the big questions burning so hot in the world right now. But my skill lies in caretaking the small moments of what it is to be human, and I’m feeling that these lessons from silence are increasingly relevant - perhaps even vital - to the collective journey. What we do to ourselves, we do to each other. And what we do to each other becomes the narrative of our collective.
Each one of us has an essential gift to offer back to this precious world as it spins and spirals through space on its own dance. I practise each day to learn the song of this human heart, so I can sing it back to us when we have forgotten. I offer these words in the same way we lit candles together at the end of the retreat: as reminders for us all of the lessons received from silence which teach us about life. Singing a new song, lighting a new flame, for the vision of living together in a new way.
Below, I share some of these lessons in more depth: the invitations to slow down, open to complexity, listen, feel… and repeat. Doing this matters because it changes the ways we show up in the world. It invites us to shift from unconscious reactivity to appropriate response. Imagine if each of us, everywhere, committed to living with this intention. How would the world look and feel? And how can we know the answer to this question without committing to living with it ourselves, first?
Slow down
We move so fast. There are ever more studies confirming that the collective global attention span is shrinking, but most of us don’t need these studies to confirm what we can already feel. The addiction to stimulus, new information, soundbites; the impatience if something takes more than seconds to load or has too many words to consume it fast; the sense that I’m not really making space to engage with this (or you), but am looking for a hit whilst actually doing many other things all at once.
We are increasingly scattered, shattered and fragmented in our minds. This inevitably impacts how we feel in this body and heart, which inevitably impacts how we relate and act in this world.
When we slow down and simplify on a retreat, at first we witness this internal friction and static. But as we relax around it and choose not to feed its frenetic energy, something begins to soften and release. The energy inside our head relaxes and widens. We are more able to feel our body again. As the energy of the body stabilises and expands, we begin to feel a wider sense of who we really are. The heart has permission to relax its guard, so that feelings which haven’t had time to be felt can finally flow through our system to be liberated and released.
We discover what practitioners have known for centuries: that there is within us a foundation of compassion, wisdom and delight which rises up in appropriate response. When we slow down and listen with love, we are able to access this appropriate response. When instead we move too fast, so often we act from the violent reactivity of unconscious emotions, habitual behaviours and conditioned beliefs.
This really matters.
Let’s learn to slow down. Let’s remember to come into this body with curiosity and care, softening around what we find here and resting beside it patiently, with love. Let’s do this first, before we act. Because we see all around us what happens when we forget.
Open to complexity
On retreat, we are invited into a space of receptivity. We open all our sense-doors to receive the fullness of this moment without holding on, pushing away or distracting ourselves. Eyes receive sight, ears receive sound, nostrils receive scent, the tongue receives taste, the skin, muscles and organs receive sensations. The mind receives thought. The heart receives emotion.
The Buddha insightfully described the mind as a sixth sense. No longer elevated from other sense perceptions, we are reminded that thinking is simply another way we receive and perceive the world around us. I like to include the heart as a seventh sense. All seven senses receiving with tenderness, care and curiosity. Completely natural, intimate with life. None of this is a problem.
But of course we make it a problem in the ways in which we engage with these seven sense doors. We hold on to what we like, push away what we don’t, distract ourselves from anything neutral, and lose ourselves in the mind’s stories and Me, You, This and Them. So our practice is to open and receive life on the one hand, and to release our compulsions on the other hand. We receive and release: both hands open.
What happens when we practise in this way, is that we widen our capacity to rest in complexity. We receive what is true whilst releasing what we imagined or wanted to believe was true, which means we discover that there are many flavours present all at once and they are often contradictory. Life is complex.
At the end of the retreat, people spoke of grief and joy, agitation and gratitude, sunlight and soup, all in one moment.
Resting in complexity is sometimes called equanimity, but that’s a word which can be misinterpreted to imply a coolness and distance from life. Equanimity is more like the wide lap of mother Earth, which holds this too, and this too, with so much love.
Opening to complexity means loving what we find, first, before moving to figure out or fix anything. Just as an archetypal mother loves the distressed child - and listens with love - before moving in with fixing and fussing. Often the loving and listening is all that is needed for appropriate response to arise.
Let’s become ever more willing to embrace complexity. As if climbing the mountain to view the whole terrain - not needing an answer yet. Waiting to receive what we don’t yet understand, rather than battling with our neighbour over a shared patch of land.
Listen
Equanimity grows empathy. We learn to receive the fullness and complexity of this moment, with love. As we listen to ourselves and each other, to the land and the beings which swim, crawl, walk, run and fly upon it, we recognise the vulnerability of being alive. How all things long for safety, respect, belonging and love; how all things long for freedom and self determination.
The more we embrace our complex and often contradictory nature, the more we embrace this in others too. Each time we experience something in our own body, heart and mind, and meet it with loving presence rather than reacting to it like we once did, we are able to relate to all those who have had that experience in a new way as well. As we understand ourselves at deeper and more subtle levels, we understand each other too. The more we expose our own vulnerability to ourselves, the more we are able to forgive ourselves for the actions we regret. Can I be grateful for the journey which has taken me to this moment of choosing another way?
And the more we reveal our vulnerability and forgive ourselves, the more we recognise the vulnerability of others behind their violence or denial as well. The desire to make others suffer (as I or those I align with have suffered), begins to relax. This changes everything. Love can be fierce in its response, but it never carries vengeance.
Forgiveness can’t be forced however - this only leads to bypass (which is another form of violence). But, as the success of truth and reconciliation programmes have shown, forgiveness emerges naturally the more we listen and feel. Because empathy arises from the heart, not the head. It is one thing to understand a different perspective from ours, but if we remain at that level we can equally quickly explain it away with clever counter arguments. It’s another thing to feel another person from a place which recognises their inherent goodness. Knowing the goodness and vulnerability which lies within you, how is it to be you? Knowing the goodness and vulnerability which lies within me, how is it to be me? What is it that we need? Really, what is it that we need?
Feel
Equanimity grows empathy which leads to greater emotional maturity. This is profoundly important for us now, because we are emerging from generations who were close to emotionally illiterate. Many of us (or certainly our parents or grandparents) were taught from a young age that most emotions are unsafe to feel. Added to that are the repeated examples around us of emotions being violently and reactively expressed. We need to discover new ways to be with emotional currents as they ebb and flow.
Emotions, like young children, actually want to be recognised, allowed and loved, first. Anxiety longs to be given a safe ground to stabilise itself; anger longs to have its potent energy rising in the face of violation honoured and directed; grief longs for permission and safety; fear longs for connection and belonging. It is not our challenging emotions that are destructive, it is our distorted relationship towards them, whether the inner violence of suppression or the outer violence of reactive expression. And it’s not just challenging emotions which become distorted: many of us are unfamiliar with receiving the fullness of joy, love, delight and peace as well. What we do with one emotion, impacts them all.
On retreat we draw on many supports (including silence, meditation to quieten the mind, yoga to soften and stabilise the body and postures which stimulate certain emotions), in order to learn another way of being with emotional life. With the embrace of these supports, we learn to recognise emotions, validate them, feel them fully and respond with love.
When we are in a state of shock, however, we cannot feel. Our system goes into the adrenal response of fight, flight and freeze in order to prevent us from feeling. Feeling gets in the way of fighting, running away or hiding, which is why the shock response is helpful for survival. We may survive, but we cannot thrive. This state was always only ever intended to be temporary. So, in these moments, it is the responsibility of others around us to help us stabilise our nervous system: to remind us to pause, come into the body and feel again.
How would it be if we came together collectively as nations in this way? If, understanding that shock breeds violence, we took responsibility to caretake those nations in shock by holding a global space to slow down, to listen and to feel. Rather than taking sides, how would it be if everybody, together, held space to slow down, listen and feel, first, before we looked deeper still, willing to find a collective response which included our parts in the conflict too?
Repeat
Complexity, equanimity, empathy and feeling set the stage for something new to emerge. Because it’s new, we can’t know what it will look like until we’ve laid new foundations. Otherwise, we will simply keep building on the same distorted base. There needs to be a space of not-knowing which we return to, again and again. There’s no arrival, but rather an ongoing spiralling journey of listening, feeling and responding, which grows our capacity to give, receive and be the precious gifts that we are.
On retreat, we cultivate beginners mind: not knowing the answer so that we might continue to listen and receive something new. This applies to everyday life as well, not only in relation to our own lives, but also in regards to the ways we view each other and the world. Once we recognise and allow an ever wider and deeper experience of this moment, the parts which were racing forward with taking sides, having fixed opinions and winning the debate, all begin to relax. Listening becomes more important than being the one with the answer. Which returns us to complexity, and our own complicity in this moment’s unfolding, again and again.
The more I listen and receive, the more I find layers of violence everywhere, leading to the normative violence I am complicit in every day. The violence of capitalist growth in a finite world. The violence of privilege in a colonial/imperialist culture. The arrogance of having an opinion about how others should behave whilst defending the comfort of my own status quo. The transformations required are vast. This space in between is an uncomfortable place to be.
But I also know that I’m not alone. And the more I listen and receive, the more I have faith in our individual and collective journeys. I have witnessed the spiralling nature of the healing process countless times in myself and others. I know we need to revisit patterns again and again. Yet if we really pay attention, we may see that each time we revisit it, we are meeting it from a new perspective. The pattern continues until the readiness grows within us (both individually and collectively) for a true release. And each time there is a little more space, awareness and conversation around it. We are not looping in an endless circle, we are spiralling into something new.
The more I work with others and witness their wings spreading in widening ripples of wisdom, compassion and delight, the more I have faith in humanity to respond, each of us utterly uniquely, with appropriate response. When enough of us do that, something will emerge that we may not even be able to imagine from where we stand today. Together we are powerful, but only through the power of each individual body, heart and mind remembering who they are and why they are here.
I have recently returned from two weeks of attending - and then teaching - silent retreats at the Moulin de Chaves in France. I was a student for the first week, practising 8 hours of meditation a day supported by the graceful guidance of Martin Aylward and Peace Twesigye. In the second week I stepped into the role of guide and teacher as I welcomed 30 women and men into a week of silence, yoga, meditation and embodied dharma.
It was a profound and beautiful experience, which continues to touch us all.
Meanwhile, the Earth continues to warm and humans continue to war.
I was unplugged and in silence when conflict broke out in the Middle East. Emerging a day later with heightened levels of sensitivity and compassion, I was struck by the parallels of our inner and outer journeys. This human heart is profoundly tender. Yet its reactive expression can be devastatingly violent.
Through witnessing my own patterns and recognising them in others over many years, I have become familiar with this paradox. I see how violence is perpetuated when we hold blindly to limiting beliefs, how suppressing or embellishing what we are feeling becomes another form of violence, and how we tend to spiral through similar dynamics in different guises until we choose to meet things in a new way.
I have also come to see that healing and transformation really is possible. Looking back, there are so many holes I no longer fall into. There are fewer undigested feelings, mental constructs and habitual behaviours which hijack me. I’m less reactive, more open and at ease. But more importantly, I have witnessed how this very personal inner transformation impacts other people. I am able to be more present and love more deeply. Being less reactive means I’m less destructive. I am learning to listen, and increasingly trusting the ways I’m asked to show up in the world. And of course this isn’t just me: I witness these transformations in countless other courageous women and men I am blessed to walk alongside. We are waking up and growing up together, walking each other home.
And yet, still, the Earth continues to warm and humans continue to war.
I wish I had more answers to help the big questions burning so hot in the world right now. But my skill lies in caretaking the small moments of what it is to be human, and I’m feeling that these lessons from silence are increasingly relevant - perhaps even vital - to the collective journey. What we do to ourselves, we do to each other. And what we do to each other becomes the narrative of our collective.
Each one of us has an essential gift to offer back to this precious world as it spins and spirals through space on its own dance. I practise each day to learn the song of this human heart, so I can sing it back to us when we have forgotten. I offer these words in the same way we lit candles together at the end of the retreat: as reminders for us all of the lessons received from silence which teach us about life. Singing a new song, lighting a new flame, for the vision of living together in a new way.
Below, I share some of these lessons in more depth: the invitations to slow down, open to complexity, listen, feel… and repeat. Doing this matters because it changes the ways we show up in the world. It invites us to shift from unconscious reactivity to appropriate response. Imagine if each of us, everywhere, committed to living with this intention. How would the world look and feel? And how can we know the answer to this question without committing to living with it ourselves, first?
Slow down
We move so fast. There are ever more studies confirming that the collective global attention span is shrinking, but most of us don’t need these studies to confirm what we can already feel. The addiction to stimulus, new information, soundbites; the impatience if something takes more than seconds to load or has too many words to consume it fast; the sense that I’m not really making space to engage with this (or you), but am looking for a hit whilst actually doing many other things all at once.
We are increasingly scattered, shattered and fragmented in our minds. This inevitably impacts how we feel in this body and heart, which inevitably impacts how we relate and act in this world.
When we slow down and simplify on a retreat, at first we witness this internal friction and static. But as we relax around it and choose not to feed its frenetic energy, something begins to soften and release. The energy inside our head relaxes and widens. We are more able to feel our body again. As the energy of the body stabilises and expands, we begin to feel a wider sense of who we really are. The heart has permission to relax its guard, so that feelings which haven’t had time to be felt can finally flow through our system to be liberated and released.
We discover what practitioners have known for centuries: that there is within us a foundation of compassion, wisdom and delight which rises up in appropriate response. When we slow down and listen with love, we are able to access this appropriate response. When instead we move too fast, so often we act from the violent reactivity of unconscious emotions, habitual behaviours and conditioned beliefs.
This really matters.
Let’s learn to slow down. Let’s remember to come into this body with curiosity and care, softening around what we find here and resting beside it patiently, with love. Let’s do this first, before we act. Because we see all around us what happens when we forget.
Open to complexity
On retreat, we are invited into a space of receptivity. We open all our sense-doors to receive the fullness of this moment without holding on, pushing away or distracting ourselves. Eyes receive sight, ears receive sound, nostrils receive scent, the tongue receives taste, the skin, muscles and organs receive sensations. The mind receives thought. The heart receives emotion.
The Buddha insightfully described the mind as a sixth sense. No longer elevated from other sense perceptions, we are reminded that thinking is simply another way we receive and perceive the world around us. I like to include the heart as a seventh sense. All seven senses receiving with tenderness, care and curiosity. Completely natural, intimate with life. None of this is a problem.
But of course we make it a problem in the ways in which we engage with these seven sense doors. We hold on to what we like, push away what we don’t, distract ourselves from anything neutral, and lose ourselves in the mind’s stories and Me, You, This and Them. So our practice is to open and receive life on the one hand, and to release our compulsions on the other hand. We receive and release: both hands open.
What happens when we practise in this way, is that we widen our capacity to rest in complexity. We receive what is true whilst releasing what we imagined or wanted to believe was true, which means we discover that there are many flavours present all at once and they are often contradictory. Life is complex.
At the end of the retreat, people spoke of grief and joy, agitation and gratitude, sunlight and soup, all in one moment.
Resting in complexity is sometimes called equanimity, but that’s a word which can be misinterpreted to imply a coolness and distance from life. Equanimity is more like the wide lap of mother Earth, which holds this too, and this too, with so much love.
Opening to complexity means loving what we find, first, before moving to figure out or fix anything. Just as an archetypal mother loves the distressed child - and listens with love - before moving in with fixing and fussing. Often the loving and listening is all that is needed for appropriate response to arise.
Let’s become ever more willing to embrace complexity. As if climbing the mountain to view the whole terrain - not needing an answer yet. Waiting to receive what we don’t yet understand, rather than battling with our neighbour over a shared patch of land.
Listen
Equanimity grows empathy. We learn to receive the fullness and complexity of this moment, with love. As we listen to ourselves and each other, to the land and the beings which swim, crawl, walk, run and fly upon it, we recognise the vulnerability of being alive. How all things long for safety, respect, belonging and love; how all things long for freedom and self determination.
The more we embrace our complex and often contradictory nature, the more we embrace this in others too. Each time we experience something in our own body, heart and mind, and meet it with loving presence rather than reacting to it like we once did, we are able to relate to all those who have had that experience in a new way as well. As we understand ourselves at deeper and more subtle levels, we understand each other too. The more we expose our own vulnerability to ourselves, the more we are able to forgive ourselves for the actions we regret. Can I be grateful for the journey which has taken me to this moment of choosing another way?
And the more we reveal our vulnerability and forgive ourselves, the more we recognise the vulnerability of others behind their violence or denial as well. The desire to make others suffer (as I or those I align with have suffered), begins to relax. This changes everything. Love can be fierce in its response, but it never carries vengeance.
Forgiveness can’t be forced however - this only leads to bypass (which is another form of violence). But, as the success of truth and reconciliation programmes have shown, forgiveness emerges naturally the more we listen and feel. Because empathy arises from the heart, not the head. It is one thing to understand a different perspective from ours, but if we remain at that level we can equally quickly explain it away with clever counter arguments. It’s another thing to feel another person from a place which recognises their inherent goodness. Knowing the goodness and vulnerability which lies within you, how is it to be you? Knowing the goodness and vulnerability which lies within me, how is it to be me? What is it that we need? Really, what is it that we need?
Feel
Equanimity grows empathy which leads to greater emotional maturity. This is profoundly important for us now, because we are emerging from generations who were close to emotionally illiterate. Many of us (or certainly our parents or grandparents) were taught from a young age that most emotions are unsafe to feel. Added to that are the repeated examples around us of emotions being violently and reactively expressed. We need to discover new ways to be with emotional currents as they ebb and flow.
Emotions, like young children, actually want to be recognised, allowed and loved, first. Anxiety longs to be given a safe ground to stabilise itself; anger longs to have its potent energy rising in the face of violation honoured and directed; grief longs for permission and safety; fear longs for connection and belonging. It is not our challenging emotions that are destructive, it is our distorted relationship towards them, whether the inner violence of suppression or the outer violence of reactive expression. And it’s not just challenging emotions which become distorted: many of us are unfamiliar with receiving the fullness of joy, love, delight and peace as well. What we do with one emotion, impacts them all.
On retreat we draw on many supports (including silence, meditation to quieten the mind, yoga to soften and stabilise the body and postures which stimulate certain emotions), in order to learn another way of being with emotional life. With the embrace of these supports, we learn to recognise emotions, validate them, feel them fully and respond with love.
When we are in a state of shock, however, we cannot feel. Our system goes into the adrenal response of fight, flight and freeze in order to prevent us from feeling. Feeling gets in the way of fighting, running away or hiding, which is why the shock response is helpful for survival. We may survive, but we cannot thrive. This state was always only ever intended to be temporary. So, in these moments, it is the responsibility of others around us to help us stabilise our nervous system: to remind us to pause, come into the body and feel again.
How would it be if we came together collectively as nations in this way? If, understanding that shock breeds violence, we took responsibility to caretake those nations in shock by holding a global space to slow down, to listen and to feel. Rather than taking sides, how would it be if everybody, together, held space to slow down, listen and feel, first, before we looked deeper still, willing to find a collective response which included our parts in the conflict too?
Repeat
Complexity, equanimity, empathy and feeling set the stage for something new to emerge. Because it’s new, we can’t know what it will look like until we’ve laid new foundations. Otherwise, we will simply keep building on the same distorted base. There needs to be a space of not-knowing which we return to, again and again. There’s no arrival, but rather an ongoing spiralling journey of listening, feeling and responding, which grows our capacity to give, receive and be the precious gifts that we are.
On retreat, we cultivate beginners mind: not knowing the answer so that we might continue to listen and receive something new. This applies to everyday life as well, not only in relation to our own lives, but also in regards to the ways we view each other and the world. Once we recognise and allow an ever wider and deeper experience of this moment, the parts which were racing forward with taking sides, having fixed opinions and winning the debate, all begin to relax. Listening becomes more important than being the one with the answer. Which returns us to complexity, and our own complicity in this moment’s unfolding, again and again.
The more I listen and receive, the more I find layers of violence everywhere, leading to the normative violence I am complicit in every day. The violence of capitalist growth in a finite world. The violence of privilege in a colonial/imperialist culture. The arrogance of having an opinion about how others should behave whilst defending the comfort of my own status quo. The transformations required are vast. This space in between is an uncomfortable place to be.
But I also know that I’m not alone. And the more I listen and receive, the more I have faith in our individual and collective journeys. I have witnessed the spiralling nature of the healing process countless times in myself and others. I know we need to revisit patterns again and again. Yet if we really pay attention, we may see that each time we revisit it, we are meeting it from a new perspective. The pattern continues until the readiness grows within us (both individually and collectively) for a true release. And each time there is a little more space, awareness and conversation around it. We are not looping in an endless circle, we are spiralling into something new.
The more I work with others and witness their wings spreading in widening ripples of wisdom, compassion and delight, the more I have faith in humanity to respond, each of us utterly uniquely, with appropriate response. When enough of us do that, something will emerge that we may not even be able to imagine from where we stand today. Together we are powerful, but only through the power of each individual body, heart and mind remembering who they are and why they are here.
Stop ~ Release ~ Feel
Each morning, as I am moving from sleep to wakefulness, I try to remember to Stop in the midst of thought-momentum, to Release whatever storylines have emerged, and to simply Feel.
There’s a lot to feel these days. For me, though I’m blessed right now with so much love and a deep joy for the flourishing of my family (something life has shown me I can’t take for granted), there is always grief in the mix in those early hours.
Because so many people I know are struggling. And not so far away countless people have lost lives, loved ones and everything they own in earthquakes and floods.
Because scientists from the Earth Commission tell us that the Earth’s health is failing in seven out of eight key measures: we are reaching tipping points, seeing more and more permanent damage of life support systems at a global scale.
Yet even still, it only takes a moment of paying attention - to the morning birds, the way the sunlight slants through the window, to the softness of wet grass underfoot - for the heart to break open in wonder and joy.
There is so much to rage and grieve. And there is so much to love and celebrate. Both together, often equally. Always all at once.
Our default reaction to painful emotions is to go into a story of blame, shame, fixing or fussing. When this happens reactively, without allowing the feeling first, we tend to be at best ineffective and at worst violent in our response.
Our default reaction to delightful emotions is often to grasp onto them, panicking already at their loss. We are unable to taste the sweetness when our attention is already searching for ways to possess it.
When instead we Stop (pausing to come into the body and breathe, cultivating curiosity and care), Release (letting go, just for now, of the storyline) and Feel (whatever is here to be felt with wonder and tenderness), we remain present.
This isn’t an invitation into apathy. When we Stop, Release and Feel, the heart remains soft and the mind remains open. A soft heart and open mind is able to respond rather than react. We know what to do.
This morning, I woke with joy and grief, side by side. It was joy that gave me the courage to stay present with grief. To rest by its side and feel it fully. But it was grief which pointed me to the courage in us all, alive at a time when it’s no longer possible to hide from the effects of centuries of living as if nothing were sacred.
Joy and grief together birth compassion. What a time to be alive! The turning of the great wheel from darkness into light. Optimism too: I believe we can do this.
Next Saturday the 23rd is the Equinox. No matter where you live on Earth, the day will be equal to the night. Equality isn’t equal amounts of the same thing: it invites us instead to remain equally open to all things. The light and the dark, the joy and the grief, the fear and the hope. Life and Love.
Because together the sum is greater than the parts. Grief and rage, in the arms of joy and hope, crack our hearts open to reverence and grace. We can’t choose day and deny night, but when we open to receive both, we receive Life. All are flavours and faces of Love.
And so we Stop, Release the story and discover that it’s safe to Feel everything. In feeling, we are blessed with a soft heart and an open mind which light the way for what is ours to do in this precious world. Love and Life become one.
Each morning, as I am moving from sleep to wakefulness, I try to remember to Stop in the midst of thought-momentum, to Release whatever storylines have emerged, and to simply Feel.
There’s a lot to feel these days. For me, though I’m blessed right now with so much love and a deep joy for the flourishing of my family (something life has shown me I can’t take for granted), there is always grief in the mix in those early hours.
Because so many people I know are struggling. And not so far away countless people have lost lives, loved ones and everything they own in earthquakes and floods.
Because scientists from the Earth Commission tell us that the Earth’s health is failing in seven out of eight key measures: we are reaching tipping points, seeing more and more permanent damage of life support systems at a global scale.
Yet even still, it only takes a moment of paying attention - to the morning birds, the way the sunlight slants through the window, to the softness of wet grass underfoot - for the heart to break open in wonder and joy.
There is so much to rage and grieve. And there is so much to love and celebrate. Both together, often equally. Always all at once.
Our default reaction to painful emotions is to go into a story of blame, shame, fixing or fussing. When this happens reactively, without allowing the feeling first, we tend to be at best ineffective and at worst violent in our response.
Our default reaction to delightful emotions is often to grasp onto them, panicking already at their loss. We are unable to taste the sweetness when our attention is already searching for ways to possess it.
When instead we Stop (pausing to come into the body and breathe, cultivating curiosity and care), Release (letting go, just for now, of the storyline) and Feel (whatever is here to be felt with wonder and tenderness), we remain present.
This isn’t an invitation into apathy. When we Stop, Release and Feel, the heart remains soft and the mind remains open. A soft heart and open mind is able to respond rather than react. We know what to do.
This morning, I woke with joy and grief, side by side. It was joy that gave me the courage to stay present with grief. To rest by its side and feel it fully. But it was grief which pointed me to the courage in us all, alive at a time when it’s no longer possible to hide from the effects of centuries of living as if nothing were sacred.
Joy and grief together birth compassion. What a time to be alive! The turning of the great wheel from darkness into light. Optimism too: I believe we can do this.
Next Saturday the 23rd is the Equinox. No matter where you live on Earth, the day will be equal to the night. Equality isn’t equal amounts of the same thing: it invites us instead to remain equally open to all things. The light and the dark, the joy and the grief, the fear and the hope. Life and Love.
Because together the sum is greater than the parts. Grief and rage, in the arms of joy and hope, crack our hearts open to reverence and grace. We can’t choose day and deny night, but when we open to receive both, we receive Life. All are flavours and faces of Love.
And so we Stop, Release the story and discover that it’s safe to Feel everything. In feeling, we are blessed with a soft heart and an open mind which light the way for what is ours to do in this precious world. Love and Life become one.
Listen
In her poem ‘Clearing’, Martha Postlethwaite writes ‘...create a clearing in the dense forest of your life and wait there patiently, until the song that is your life falls into your own cupped hands and you recognise and greet it. Only then will you know how to give yourself to this world so worthy of rescue.’
To me, her words describe the art of listening.
To listen, we must first create a space to receive. Have you ever noticed that the words ‘listen’ and ‘silent’ are composed of the same letters? Listening is not the same as participating in the often looping ramblings of our inner storylines. To truly listen is to ‘enter the silence’ enough to receive (and respond) from a place of greater perspective, clarity and ease. Like climbing a mountain to view the whole terrain.
Rather than falling blind and deaf into habitual pathways and potholes, listening takes us to a reservoir within of innate wisdom, compassion and delight. What greater gifts than these could we offer this world, so worthy of rescue?
It takes practice, of course, to create a clearing. It also takes practice to recognise and greet all that we receive. The noise of self-doubt, judgement and criticism can be deafening at times, and the compulsions to hold on, push away and escape are deeply imprinted in our DNA.
But practice is possible. And as we learn to listen with curiosity and care, our relationship towards life begins to change. Things still hurt when they are painful, of course. But the sense of overwhelm and dis-ease relaxes. As does the feeling that what’s alive right now is not safe to be felt. When we listen, everything becomes a messenger. There is always a gift hidden somewhere in the struggle.
The story of the Buddha’s final moments of awakening can be interpreted in this light as well. When challenged by the spirit Mara with ‘and who are YOU to claim to have understood the truth of reality?’, the Buddha responded by touching the Earth. He received Mara’s challenge without losing himself in the story of self-doubt. In touching the Earth he came instead into deeper alignment and trust. The answer was simple: this was no egoic delusion because the truth of reality had never been a creation of his mind. He had simply created a clearing and sat patiently until the full symphony of life had landed into his own cupped hands. The Earth had spoken, and he had listened.
May our listening guide us towards receiving the songs that are our lives with wisdom, compassion and delight! As we remember our own unique songs, may we sing the world back into remembrance in turn. May it be so!
'To love a person is to learn the song that is in their heart and to sing it to them when they have forgotten.' ~ Arne Garborg
In her poem ‘Clearing’, Martha Postlethwaite writes ‘...create a clearing in the dense forest of your life and wait there patiently, until the song that is your life falls into your own cupped hands and you recognise and greet it. Only then will you know how to give yourself to this world so worthy of rescue.’
To me, her words describe the art of listening.
To listen, we must first create a space to receive. Have you ever noticed that the words ‘listen’ and ‘silent’ are composed of the same letters? Listening is not the same as participating in the often looping ramblings of our inner storylines. To truly listen is to ‘enter the silence’ enough to receive (and respond) from a place of greater perspective, clarity and ease. Like climbing a mountain to view the whole terrain.
Rather than falling blind and deaf into habitual pathways and potholes, listening takes us to a reservoir within of innate wisdom, compassion and delight. What greater gifts than these could we offer this world, so worthy of rescue?
It takes practice, of course, to create a clearing. It also takes practice to recognise and greet all that we receive. The noise of self-doubt, judgement and criticism can be deafening at times, and the compulsions to hold on, push away and escape are deeply imprinted in our DNA.
But practice is possible. And as we learn to listen with curiosity and care, our relationship towards life begins to change. Things still hurt when they are painful, of course. But the sense of overwhelm and dis-ease relaxes. As does the feeling that what’s alive right now is not safe to be felt. When we listen, everything becomes a messenger. There is always a gift hidden somewhere in the struggle.
The story of the Buddha’s final moments of awakening can be interpreted in this light as well. When challenged by the spirit Mara with ‘and who are YOU to claim to have understood the truth of reality?’, the Buddha responded by touching the Earth. He received Mara’s challenge without losing himself in the story of self-doubt. In touching the Earth he came instead into deeper alignment and trust. The answer was simple: this was no egoic delusion because the truth of reality had never been a creation of his mind. He had simply created a clearing and sat patiently until the full symphony of life had landed into his own cupped hands. The Earth had spoken, and he had listened.
May our listening guide us towards receiving the songs that are our lives with wisdom, compassion and delight! As we remember our own unique songs, may we sing the world back into remembrance in turn. May it be so!
'To love a person is to learn the song that is in their heart and to sing it to them when they have forgotten.' ~ Arne Garborg
Integrity, Humility and Patience
Rumi famously wrote: “Try and be a sheet of paper with nothing on it. Be a spot of ground where nothing is growing, where something might be planted, a seed, possibly, from the Absolute.”
How often are we willing to empty ourselves enough to receive what we don’t yet know? How often do we impose ourselves upon the sheet of paper or spot of ground, rather than listening to what is unfolding with a tenderness and receptivity which allows us to dance with it?
These are changing times. Navigating change with grace can be especially challenging when its currents are strong and multiple. We’ve mostly been taught to respond to times like this by holding on or pushing away: imposing a fictional reality (whether a new one or the old) rather than dancing within and inside the truth that’s here. And when this holding on and pushing away brings suffering, as it inevitably will, we have been taught to either push and pull harder or numb and distract ourselves better.
So how do we move with the river of change, so that our gifts can be received and amalgamated as graceful currents in its flow, rather than swimming against it, thrashing to reach the shore or drowning inside its rapids?
I’ve been living with this question for a few years now. Just before the pandemic turned our lives upside down, I was blessed to participate in seven ceremonies in the high Peruvian jungle where (amongst other gifts) I received the seemingly simple reminder that the only tools needed to navigate change are integrity, humility and patience.
Integrity came first. I was shown that this moment isn’t happening to us or even around us, but that the universe is continually calling us to come into relationship with it. As if reaching out a hand and asking us to step into the dance. Yet to dance with the universe means to dance in alignment with love. When we’re not in integrity, caught instead in some form of greed, hatred and delusion, we are dancing only with the mind.
This invitation to live in integrity leads naturally to humility, because slipping up, forgetting and losing ourselves is both inevitable and necessary. We are here to learn how to swim with this changing river of life, and slipping up, forgetting and losing ourselves is exactly how we learn. Without humility infused with the softness of forgiveness, however, we can easily get lost in a story that it’s all about me. Whether getting it wrong or getting it right, doing badly or doing well: when it’s all about me, we forget that we’re being invited to remember something larger and more mysterious. We get caught up in the story of me and my trauma and spiritual growth, and lose sight of the hand reaching out, the whisper calling us to step into the dance.
Patience, too, comes side by side with humility and integrity: when it’s not about me, when I’m dancing with a universe in unending flow, there’s nowhere to go but here and nothing to do but respond. Without patience, it’s harder to feel the currents around and within us - and when we don’t feel, we’re unable to respond. What this means is we tend to force ourselves onto life instead. But beauty and mystery can’t be forced. We can’t force a flower to bloom. We can only participate in honouring and supporting its mysterious unfolding. Patience invites us to slow down, receive and honour, before we respond. It reminds us that everything has its own time and unfolding. The mind can be quick to create a vision or receive an insight, but embodiment follows its own sweet rhythm and grace.
It’s interesting to notice how effective our collective culture has become at distracting us from integrity, humility and patience. Together we find ingenious ways to get what we want as if we were separate from the whole. We strive to be someone and celebrate the ones who push themselves into the limelight. And we facilitate impatience, enabling quick fixes or distraction in ever more ingenious ways.
Yet I’m increasingly recognising that many decisions made and creative endeavours embarked upon are bigger than my mind is able to embrace. Something new is wanting to grow in place of the fussing, freaking out or forcing which might have come in the past. Life is forming me, not the other way around. I’ve been writing a book which feels like it’s growing me in order to bring it to life, rather than an inanimate creation belonging to me. I’ve become jointly responsible for some land which, when I listen, feels like it is teaching me how to caretake it.
I’m feeling more than ever a student of life. The moment any of this becomes about Me producing something Now (and getting it Right), I freeze. The less it’s about me or the rush of time, the more I’m open to receive and available to respond.
Magic happens.
Whatever is unfolding for you right now, I hope you create some time and space this summer to slow down and listen deeply. And I hope you allow yourself to trust what you hear. Acting with integrity, listening to the great mystery and responding with kindness and forgiveness are all given lowly standing in our goal and achievement oriented world. Yet they always birth something beautiful. And grow within and around us a resilience much needed in these changing times.
Look Nowhere Else But Here
The path you are walking is perfect in its uncertainty and complexity.
Trust in the unfolding.
This moment is a web of many threads of which you are one, inseparably woven.
Watch for the pushing, my love, when it feels uncomfortable here and you search for resolution there.
Lean back as one who is empty, who listens deeply, courageously, to many threads whispering.
Dive in and find a universe here. Another web thickly woven, multiple strands creating one. Each thread that makes this moment’s weave contains a forest within.
The path you are walking is perfect in its uncertainty and complexity.
Trust in the unfolding.
You are loved more than you can know as you move into knowing yourself as Love.
Look nowhere else, but here.
What do we leave behind?
Yesterday would have been my father’s birthday. Instead it was the day that we closed the door for the last time to the home he had lived in for 30 years. A door closing. A lifetime closing.
Impermanence was one of the Buddha’s pivotal teachings. See how everything changes! Nothing stays the same. These words, these thoughts, these feelings, sensations, smells, tastes, sounds, sight - you and I and all this everywhere - changing. Sometimes quickly, sometimes slowly, but always changing.
My mind knows this. But to live it this last year has been a deep ache of letting go. To empty a house is to empty a life, God-like, deciding what matters. 18 years of carefully catalogued articles written for the Financial Times: never to be read again. Who decides what matters? Who decides what remains? When it comes to it, what do we leave behind?
A lifetime’s work returns to the Earth. A lifetime’s possessions distributed or sold. A house emptied; a lifetime dissolved.
The closer I look, the clearer it becomes. All that remains are the imprints left - good, bad or indifferent - on countless hearts. All that remains are the footprints - good, bad or indifferent - on the body, heart and mind of this precious Earth. All that remains are the gifts and scars of how well we were able to love, this time.
The last time I saw you
The last time I saw you: aquiline nose, open mouth, paper thin skin. Beautiful hands, long fingers. They scooped you up in your sheets and zipped the bag shut. All the way.
The last time I heard your voice: jaunty tone, confident answering-machine lilt. I’d known it all my life. Until the line went dead and you were no longer there.
And then the house was emptied, first the clutter, finally the books. Until all that remained was a handwritten note, once buried behind books, flight times to Brussels in 1995.
So I searched in my heart for what lives on here, and found flashes of darkness and light. Because in truth it wasn’t easy to know you. Harder still to love you with this wide open heart you gave me.
But that was your greatest gift, this wide open heart. It’s just nobody showed you how to look after yours in a way that kept its flame alight. Nobody showed you that loving for Love's sake alone is its own inextinguishable delight.
So I honour your life by receiving mine: by choosing to live in a way that lights up hearts, each heart flame lighting countless more. And when these words disappear and it’s my turn for crinkled skin to turn to soil, perhaps a few more hearts will glow around this world.
Because when all is gone, I hope to leave behind more light than I found when I came.
Feathers into empty space
There is no loss, only change.
The things I thought would stay forever were already transforming, slipping through my fingers, even as I held on to a dream that never was.
And the things I know are here to grow keep asking me to stay, but step back and further back as they learn to breathe on their own.
So much I believed would die remains, until a sweet surrender lets them go, falling like feathers into empty space.
While the future is always already here, waiting to be woven by hands no longer fretting and fussing with holding on and pushing away.
No part of this mystery has ever been mine to keep.
Rumi famously wrote: “Try and be a sheet of paper with nothing on it. Be a spot of ground where nothing is growing, where something might be planted, a seed, possibly, from the Absolute.”
How often are we willing to empty ourselves enough to receive what we don’t yet know? How often do we impose ourselves upon the sheet of paper or spot of ground, rather than listening to what is unfolding with a tenderness and receptivity which allows us to dance with it?
These are changing times. Navigating change with grace can be especially challenging when its currents are strong and multiple. We’ve mostly been taught to respond to times like this by holding on or pushing away: imposing a fictional reality (whether a new one or the old) rather than dancing within and inside the truth that’s here. And when this holding on and pushing away brings suffering, as it inevitably will, we have been taught to either push and pull harder or numb and distract ourselves better.
So how do we move with the river of change, so that our gifts can be received and amalgamated as graceful currents in its flow, rather than swimming against it, thrashing to reach the shore or drowning inside its rapids?
I’ve been living with this question for a few years now. Just before the pandemic turned our lives upside down, I was blessed to participate in seven ceremonies in the high Peruvian jungle where (amongst other gifts) I received the seemingly simple reminder that the only tools needed to navigate change are integrity, humility and patience.
Integrity came first. I was shown that this moment isn’t happening to us or even around us, but that the universe is continually calling us to come into relationship with it. As if reaching out a hand and asking us to step into the dance. Yet to dance with the universe means to dance in alignment with love. When we’re not in integrity, caught instead in some form of greed, hatred and delusion, we are dancing only with the mind.
This invitation to live in integrity leads naturally to humility, because slipping up, forgetting and losing ourselves is both inevitable and necessary. We are here to learn how to swim with this changing river of life, and slipping up, forgetting and losing ourselves is exactly how we learn. Without humility infused with the softness of forgiveness, however, we can easily get lost in a story that it’s all about me. Whether getting it wrong or getting it right, doing badly or doing well: when it’s all about me, we forget that we’re being invited to remember something larger and more mysterious. We get caught up in the story of me and my trauma and spiritual growth, and lose sight of the hand reaching out, the whisper calling us to step into the dance.
Patience, too, comes side by side with humility and integrity: when it’s not about me, when I’m dancing with a universe in unending flow, there’s nowhere to go but here and nothing to do but respond. Without patience, it’s harder to feel the currents around and within us - and when we don’t feel, we’re unable to respond. What this means is we tend to force ourselves onto life instead. But beauty and mystery can’t be forced. We can’t force a flower to bloom. We can only participate in honouring and supporting its mysterious unfolding. Patience invites us to slow down, receive and honour, before we respond. It reminds us that everything has its own time and unfolding. The mind can be quick to create a vision or receive an insight, but embodiment follows its own sweet rhythm and grace.
It’s interesting to notice how effective our collective culture has become at distracting us from integrity, humility and patience. Together we find ingenious ways to get what we want as if we were separate from the whole. We strive to be someone and celebrate the ones who push themselves into the limelight. And we facilitate impatience, enabling quick fixes or distraction in ever more ingenious ways.
Yet I’m increasingly recognising that many decisions made and creative endeavours embarked upon are bigger than my mind is able to embrace. Something new is wanting to grow in place of the fussing, freaking out or forcing which might have come in the past. Life is forming me, not the other way around. I’ve been writing a book which feels like it’s growing me in order to bring it to life, rather than an inanimate creation belonging to me. I’ve become jointly responsible for some land which, when I listen, feels like it is teaching me how to caretake it.
I’m feeling more than ever a student of life. The moment any of this becomes about Me producing something Now (and getting it Right), I freeze. The less it’s about me or the rush of time, the more I’m open to receive and available to respond.
Magic happens.
Whatever is unfolding for you right now, I hope you create some time and space this summer to slow down and listen deeply. And I hope you allow yourself to trust what you hear. Acting with integrity, listening to the great mystery and responding with kindness and forgiveness are all given lowly standing in our goal and achievement oriented world. Yet they always birth something beautiful. And grow within and around us a resilience much needed in these changing times.
Look Nowhere Else But Here
The path you are walking is perfect in its uncertainty and complexity.
Trust in the unfolding.
This moment is a web of many threads of which you are one, inseparably woven.
Watch for the pushing, my love, when it feels uncomfortable here and you search for resolution there.
Lean back as one who is empty, who listens deeply, courageously, to many threads whispering.
Dive in and find a universe here. Another web thickly woven, multiple strands creating one. Each thread that makes this moment’s weave contains a forest within.
The path you are walking is perfect in its uncertainty and complexity.
Trust in the unfolding.
You are loved more than you can know as you move into knowing yourself as Love.
Look nowhere else, but here.
What do we leave behind?
Yesterday would have been my father’s birthday. Instead it was the day that we closed the door for the last time to the home he had lived in for 30 years. A door closing. A lifetime closing.
Impermanence was one of the Buddha’s pivotal teachings. See how everything changes! Nothing stays the same. These words, these thoughts, these feelings, sensations, smells, tastes, sounds, sight - you and I and all this everywhere - changing. Sometimes quickly, sometimes slowly, but always changing.
My mind knows this. But to live it this last year has been a deep ache of letting go. To empty a house is to empty a life, God-like, deciding what matters. 18 years of carefully catalogued articles written for the Financial Times: never to be read again. Who decides what matters? Who decides what remains? When it comes to it, what do we leave behind?
A lifetime’s work returns to the Earth. A lifetime’s possessions distributed or sold. A house emptied; a lifetime dissolved.
The closer I look, the clearer it becomes. All that remains are the imprints left - good, bad or indifferent - on countless hearts. All that remains are the footprints - good, bad or indifferent - on the body, heart and mind of this precious Earth. All that remains are the gifts and scars of how well we were able to love, this time.
The last time I saw you
The last time I saw you: aquiline nose, open mouth, paper thin skin. Beautiful hands, long fingers. They scooped you up in your sheets and zipped the bag shut. All the way.
The last time I heard your voice: jaunty tone, confident answering-machine lilt. I’d known it all my life. Until the line went dead and you were no longer there.
And then the house was emptied, first the clutter, finally the books. Until all that remained was a handwritten note, once buried behind books, flight times to Brussels in 1995.
So I searched in my heart for what lives on here, and found flashes of darkness and light. Because in truth it wasn’t easy to know you. Harder still to love you with this wide open heart you gave me.
But that was your greatest gift, this wide open heart. It’s just nobody showed you how to look after yours in a way that kept its flame alight. Nobody showed you that loving for Love's sake alone is its own inextinguishable delight.
So I honour your life by receiving mine: by choosing to live in a way that lights up hearts, each heart flame lighting countless more. And when these words disappear and it’s my turn for crinkled skin to turn to soil, perhaps a few more hearts will glow around this world.
Because when all is gone, I hope to leave behind more light than I found when I came.
Feathers into empty space
There is no loss, only change.
The things I thought would stay forever were already transforming, slipping through my fingers, even as I held on to a dream that never was.
And the things I know are here to grow keep asking me to stay, but step back and further back as they learn to breathe on their own.
So much I believed would die remains, until a sweet surrender lets them go, falling like feathers into empty space.
While the future is always already here, waiting to be woven by hands no longer fretting and fussing with holding on and pushing away.
No part of this mystery has ever been mine to keep.
Reflections from Peru
I have just returned from 9 days of animistic retreat in the high Andes of Peru.
Animistic cosmology suggests that a luminous intelligence infuses everything. It invites us to enter into sacred relationship with both the world of form and the realm of formlessness. To listen, receive and respond in all directions, guided by the song of the pure heart; by the benevolence of the collective symphony. We sing, nudge, trigger, embrace and dance each other home.
The sun, moon, water, fire, wind, earth, mountain spirits, earth spirits, animals, plants, you and I - all shining our unique light, glowing with and growing into Love’s rainbow reflection. Like an infinite variety of waves emerging from and returning to the great ocean of Love. Like an infinite variety of flowers blooming from and composting into the resplendent garden of Love.
Like this breath, now, arising and falling, receiving a great mystery and giving it back, with love.
Most of us are more familiar with a smaller dance than this. We have been raised in a fear-based trance of individualism. Terrified that the individual flower might not be enough or safe, we were encouraged to stand on the heads of others as we climbed higher, encouraged to become the one all turned their faces towards. Don’t concern yourself with the devastation around, darling. Don’t look down.
It’s possible to fall too far into the collective, also, perhaps. Some may worship the garden yet forget that they, too, are flowers within it. When we dampen our potential we dampen Love’s potential too. We are neither custodians nor servants of Love. We are Love. This - all this - is Love’s expansion.
The question which came to me when I set foot on the sacred land of the high Andes was: how to embody the simple truth that we are flowers in this garden of Love?
And remembering that I am not alone, that everything arises in the sweetness of reciprocal relationship, the question became a request: please help me to know myself as a flower of this garden.
I have found that whenever I ask to know what is already true, what I am shown are the ways that I deny or avoid this truth. You might have noticed this too? It can be no other way. Truth simply reveals itself as we recognise and embrace the barriers and veils that we place around it.
So when I asked, please help me to know myself as a flower of this garden, first I was shown the tendency to look elsewhere. To look for another flower to stand beside or behind. Holding these habits with the gentleness of love allows them to relax. When I did so, it was as if a powerful root exhaled into the ground.
Next I was shown old patterns of shame. When we forget who we are, we act with a violence and tender hearts will of course hide from this pain. Yet holding shame with forgiveness allows it to be seen in the light of love. When I did so, it was as if a vibrant shoot inhaled towards the sky.
Then came fear from the shadows: afraid to be naked and exposed, afraid of the times it was unsafe to shine. But giving this fear a stable home between Earth and Sky allows it to breathe. When I did so, it was as if a bud swelled from the tip of the shoot, filled with pregnant promise.
Everything is an unfolding: in the Andes they say all is en proceso - in process. For me, even as a simplicity of being here began to emerge, humble yet radiant in the garden of Love, I watched my mind attempting to recreate more familiar landscapes of separation. Erecting walls of Me vs You, Good vs Bad, Right vs Wrong. Boxes to climb inside; something to grasp and defend.
But in the vastness of that pristine space, the safety of separation felt too suffocating and small to inhabit for long. Each time I chose to climb back out into that same vastness resonant inside me, a new bud burst into flower, softened into blossom, relaxed into radiance. This, I recognised. This, I knew. Home.
And now, as I land back into London life, the vastness of mountain sky still alive inside me, I sit in wonder at a truth of reality I have glimpsed, of worlds both seen and unseen. The benevolence of spirit still surrounds me: the warm, forgiving guidance of the mountain spirit Apus; the generous embrace of Earth mother Pachamama.
I know these relationships are mine to cultivate, as they inevitably dim in the density of city and complexity of daily life. But a seed of a remembrance has been planted within me.
We never left Love. We are all flowers in its garden. It’s true.
I have just returned from 9 days of animistic retreat in the high Andes of Peru.
Animistic cosmology suggests that a luminous intelligence infuses everything. It invites us to enter into sacred relationship with both the world of form and the realm of formlessness. To listen, receive and respond in all directions, guided by the song of the pure heart; by the benevolence of the collective symphony. We sing, nudge, trigger, embrace and dance each other home.
The sun, moon, water, fire, wind, earth, mountain spirits, earth spirits, animals, plants, you and I - all shining our unique light, glowing with and growing into Love’s rainbow reflection. Like an infinite variety of waves emerging from and returning to the great ocean of Love. Like an infinite variety of flowers blooming from and composting into the resplendent garden of Love.
Like this breath, now, arising and falling, receiving a great mystery and giving it back, with love.
Most of us are more familiar with a smaller dance than this. We have been raised in a fear-based trance of individualism. Terrified that the individual flower might not be enough or safe, we were encouraged to stand on the heads of others as we climbed higher, encouraged to become the one all turned their faces towards. Don’t concern yourself with the devastation around, darling. Don’t look down.
It’s possible to fall too far into the collective, also, perhaps. Some may worship the garden yet forget that they, too, are flowers within it. When we dampen our potential we dampen Love’s potential too. We are neither custodians nor servants of Love. We are Love. This - all this - is Love’s expansion.
The question which came to me when I set foot on the sacred land of the high Andes was: how to embody the simple truth that we are flowers in this garden of Love?
And remembering that I am not alone, that everything arises in the sweetness of reciprocal relationship, the question became a request: please help me to know myself as a flower of this garden.
I have found that whenever I ask to know what is already true, what I am shown are the ways that I deny or avoid this truth. You might have noticed this too? It can be no other way. Truth simply reveals itself as we recognise and embrace the barriers and veils that we place around it.
So when I asked, please help me to know myself as a flower of this garden, first I was shown the tendency to look elsewhere. To look for another flower to stand beside or behind. Holding these habits with the gentleness of love allows them to relax. When I did so, it was as if a powerful root exhaled into the ground.
Next I was shown old patterns of shame. When we forget who we are, we act with a violence and tender hearts will of course hide from this pain. Yet holding shame with forgiveness allows it to be seen in the light of love. When I did so, it was as if a vibrant shoot inhaled towards the sky.
Then came fear from the shadows: afraid to be naked and exposed, afraid of the times it was unsafe to shine. But giving this fear a stable home between Earth and Sky allows it to breathe. When I did so, it was as if a bud swelled from the tip of the shoot, filled with pregnant promise.
Everything is an unfolding: in the Andes they say all is en proceso - in process. For me, even as a simplicity of being here began to emerge, humble yet radiant in the garden of Love, I watched my mind attempting to recreate more familiar landscapes of separation. Erecting walls of Me vs You, Good vs Bad, Right vs Wrong. Boxes to climb inside; something to grasp and defend.
But in the vastness of that pristine space, the safety of separation felt too suffocating and small to inhabit for long. Each time I chose to climb back out into that same vastness resonant inside me, a new bud burst into flower, softened into blossom, relaxed into radiance. This, I recognised. This, I knew. Home.
And now, as I land back into London life, the vastness of mountain sky still alive inside me, I sit in wonder at a truth of reality I have glimpsed, of worlds both seen and unseen. The benevolence of spirit still surrounds me: the warm, forgiving guidance of the mountain spirit Apus; the generous embrace of Earth mother Pachamama.
I know these relationships are mine to cultivate, as they inevitably dim in the density of city and complexity of daily life. But a seed of a remembrance has been planted within me.
We never left Love. We are all flowers in its garden. It’s true.
Am I OK?
Recently, a friend highly respected in her field, moved in with her partner and decided to turn her attention to a new creative project. Despite doing what she loves, she told me how hard she’s finding it to no longer have financial independence and no longer find herself quite so much in the centre of things.
I reminded her that a few years ago she was longing to share her financial burden with someone else, longing for a less fast-paced, high-pressure life.
As we reflected together, she realised that the real issues were not the ones she thought they were. The real issues were feelings of not being ok, of having no value, of feeling unsafe. She realised that without the daily validation of being admired and considered successful, this story of not being ok - which had driven her so hard to achieve all her life - had become more exposed in its rawness.
I wonder, how much of our drive to succeed comes from a fear of not being ok?
The story of not being ok doesn’t only push us, it also holds us back. An everyday example of this came a few days later while watching my son teach my mother to play chess. I asked her why she hadn’t learnt it long ago from my father (a passionate chess player) and she replied, “At that time I would never have allowed myself to do something I wasn’t already good at.”
I wonder, how many of our decisions not to show up, step forward or try something new come from a fear of not being ok?
The pushing and pulling of this story of not being ok doesn’t tend to relax for long even when we are successful, loved and praised. The goalposts simply shift. There’s always further to go. There’s always someone better.
One reason this voice of not-enough is never placated is because it asks the question “Am I ok?” with an if.
“Am I ok if…? Am I ok if I’m at the top of my field? Am I ok if I’m admired for my skill or beauty or success? Am I ok if I get everything right? Am I ok if everyone loves me?”
Whenever there’s an if, there’s also the possibility of not being ok. And with that possibility comes the anxiety of pushing harder to be better, or hiding better to be safer.
Instead of the if, what the young voice inside us really longs for are the words, “Yes, my love, you are absolutely ok. Completely, unconditionally, ok.”
Feel the deep breath of relief which comes with this message.
Every part of us waits to be held in the warm embrace of “Yes, my love, you are absolutely ok. Completely, unconditionally, ok.”
So when the tension of pushing or pulling rises within us, it can help to pause with curiosity and care. To listen and feel with such kindness that the vulnerability behind these stories begins to reveal itself. The desire to be validated, when held in the knowing that its innocent tenderness is absolutely ok, relaxes its grasping. The harsh inner narrative berating a mistake, when held in the knowing that its fear is absolutely ok, releases its protective stance.
As we make a safe space for all these young parts to know that their tears and frustrations are absolutely ok, their relief permeates our whole system. It spreads like a luminous warmth into our muscles and organs. It influences our breathing and our nervous system. It informs how we feel and how we show up in the world.
I often wonder: how would we be in the world if we all really, truly knew that we were ok? How many things would we try, just for fun? How easily would we say yes to something that excited us? How easily would we say no to something that didn’t? How readily would we celebrate others’ successes and support their struggles? How generous and playful would we be? How relaxed? How joyful? How creative? How free?
Because the truth is that yes, my love, you are absolutely ok.
Completely, unconditionally, ok.
Recently, a friend highly respected in her field, moved in with her partner and decided to turn her attention to a new creative project. Despite doing what she loves, she told me how hard she’s finding it to no longer have financial independence and no longer find herself quite so much in the centre of things.
I reminded her that a few years ago she was longing to share her financial burden with someone else, longing for a less fast-paced, high-pressure life.
As we reflected together, she realised that the real issues were not the ones she thought they were. The real issues were feelings of not being ok, of having no value, of feeling unsafe. She realised that without the daily validation of being admired and considered successful, this story of not being ok - which had driven her so hard to achieve all her life - had become more exposed in its rawness.
I wonder, how much of our drive to succeed comes from a fear of not being ok?
The story of not being ok doesn’t only push us, it also holds us back. An everyday example of this came a few days later while watching my son teach my mother to play chess. I asked her why she hadn’t learnt it long ago from my father (a passionate chess player) and she replied, “At that time I would never have allowed myself to do something I wasn’t already good at.”
I wonder, how many of our decisions not to show up, step forward or try something new come from a fear of not being ok?
The pushing and pulling of this story of not being ok doesn’t tend to relax for long even when we are successful, loved and praised. The goalposts simply shift. There’s always further to go. There’s always someone better.
One reason this voice of not-enough is never placated is because it asks the question “Am I ok?” with an if.
“Am I ok if…? Am I ok if I’m at the top of my field? Am I ok if I’m admired for my skill or beauty or success? Am I ok if I get everything right? Am I ok if everyone loves me?”
Whenever there’s an if, there’s also the possibility of not being ok. And with that possibility comes the anxiety of pushing harder to be better, or hiding better to be safer.
Instead of the if, what the young voice inside us really longs for are the words, “Yes, my love, you are absolutely ok. Completely, unconditionally, ok.”
Feel the deep breath of relief which comes with this message.
Every part of us waits to be held in the warm embrace of “Yes, my love, you are absolutely ok. Completely, unconditionally, ok.”
So when the tension of pushing or pulling rises within us, it can help to pause with curiosity and care. To listen and feel with such kindness that the vulnerability behind these stories begins to reveal itself. The desire to be validated, when held in the knowing that its innocent tenderness is absolutely ok, relaxes its grasping. The harsh inner narrative berating a mistake, when held in the knowing that its fear is absolutely ok, releases its protective stance.
As we make a safe space for all these young parts to know that their tears and frustrations are absolutely ok, their relief permeates our whole system. It spreads like a luminous warmth into our muscles and organs. It influences our breathing and our nervous system. It informs how we feel and how we show up in the world.
I often wonder: how would we be in the world if we all really, truly knew that we were ok? How many things would we try, just for fun? How easily would we say yes to something that excited us? How easily would we say no to something that didn’t? How readily would we celebrate others’ successes and support their struggles? How generous and playful would we be? How relaxed? How joyful? How creative? How free?
Because the truth is that yes, my love, you are absolutely ok.
Completely, unconditionally, ok.
Planting Seeds of Love
Coming home is a journey of remembering sacredness whenever we realise we’ve forgotten. One way we remember is by directly experiencing the relaxation, groundedness, awakeness, aliveness and spaciousness of this great mystery that I’m calling sacredness.
The more we practise, the more we are able to rest in these qualities regardless of outer conditions. It’s possible to be at ease in the midst of dis-ease. It’s possible to remain grounded in the midst of fear. It’s possible to be present in the midst of distraction. It’s possible to be receptive in the midst of attack. And it’s possible to be expansive in the midst of overwhelm.
To experience this directly is radically freeing.
We begin to know that although life inevitably moves between ease and disease, comfort and discomfort, it’s possible to remain in the restful reverence of sacredness regardless. Most importantly, it’s possible to act from this place, so that we plant seeds of Love in the world, whatever the conditions.
Inevitably, there will be times that we forget this, even with practice and support. But without practice and support, we will forget this more often. This matters, because in our forgetfulness, we react from fear, rather than act with Love. Blending and identifying with the one afraid, distracted, attacked and overwhelmed, we react by demanding, defending or escaping.
All of this leads to suffering.
Suffering is what we experience when we believe and invest in our collective story of separation. Getting what we want regardless of its impact, as if we were separate from the whole. Grasping at what we have, as if it weren’t already slipping through our fingers. And fighting or running from what we don’t like, as if it weren’t also worthy of respect.
We suffer, because when we physically, psychologically or emotionally pollute our environment, we breathe in that pollution too. We suffer, because holding on, pushing away and escaping in a universe that is inseparably connected, changing and sacred, can only leave us depleted, contracted and collapsed.
And yet: suffering is also sacred. It is not an accident or a curse. It’s a messenger showing us that we’ve lost our way. Showing us that we’re lost in a story of separation.
So, suffering also invites us to come home.
Like a wave which only pauses from its restless search for the ocean when the contraction and collapse of that search finally invites it to surrender… we, too, are learning to pause in the midst of our reactivity for long enough to come home.
We, too, pause to bring our attention back into the body. To feel the places of contraction and collapse, and breathe into them, turning towards them and softening around them. To unhook from the stories of blame, shame, right, wrong, fixing, comparing and judging, for long enough to feel this tender human heart, with love.
Just as, pausing, the wave sinks back into the ocean, to rise again with a remembrance of its vastness and grace… we, too, are returned to sacredness when we remember to embrace this moment with love. And returned to sacredness, we, too, are liberated to respond to the challenges of this moment with Love’s vastness and grace.
So when we come home to sacredness, we plant seeds of Love.
And when we plant seeds of Love, it is Love which grows in the world.
Coming home is a journey of remembering sacredness whenever we realise we’ve forgotten. One way we remember is by directly experiencing the relaxation, groundedness, awakeness, aliveness and spaciousness of this great mystery that I’m calling sacredness.
The more we practise, the more we are able to rest in these qualities regardless of outer conditions. It’s possible to be at ease in the midst of dis-ease. It’s possible to remain grounded in the midst of fear. It’s possible to be present in the midst of distraction. It’s possible to be receptive in the midst of attack. And it’s possible to be expansive in the midst of overwhelm.
To experience this directly is radically freeing.
We begin to know that although life inevitably moves between ease and disease, comfort and discomfort, it’s possible to remain in the restful reverence of sacredness regardless. Most importantly, it’s possible to act from this place, so that we plant seeds of Love in the world, whatever the conditions.
Inevitably, there will be times that we forget this, even with practice and support. But without practice and support, we will forget this more often. This matters, because in our forgetfulness, we react from fear, rather than act with Love. Blending and identifying with the one afraid, distracted, attacked and overwhelmed, we react by demanding, defending or escaping.
All of this leads to suffering.
Suffering is what we experience when we believe and invest in our collective story of separation. Getting what we want regardless of its impact, as if we were separate from the whole. Grasping at what we have, as if it weren’t already slipping through our fingers. And fighting or running from what we don’t like, as if it weren’t also worthy of respect.
We suffer, because when we physically, psychologically or emotionally pollute our environment, we breathe in that pollution too. We suffer, because holding on, pushing away and escaping in a universe that is inseparably connected, changing and sacred, can only leave us depleted, contracted and collapsed.
And yet: suffering is also sacred. It is not an accident or a curse. It’s a messenger showing us that we’ve lost our way. Showing us that we’re lost in a story of separation.
So, suffering also invites us to come home.
Like a wave which only pauses from its restless search for the ocean when the contraction and collapse of that search finally invites it to surrender… we, too, are learning to pause in the midst of our reactivity for long enough to come home.
We, too, pause to bring our attention back into the body. To feel the places of contraction and collapse, and breathe into them, turning towards them and softening around them. To unhook from the stories of blame, shame, right, wrong, fixing, comparing and judging, for long enough to feel this tender human heart, with love.
Just as, pausing, the wave sinks back into the ocean, to rise again with a remembrance of its vastness and grace… we, too, are returned to sacredness when we remember to embrace this moment with love. And returned to sacredness, we, too, are liberated to respond to the challenges of this moment with Love’s vastness and grace.
So when we come home to sacredness, we plant seeds of Love.
And when we plant seeds of Love, it is Love which grows in the world.
Coming Home
There are many reasons to engage with a spiritual practice, and none of them are wrong. A clear intention helps us remain in alignment with whatever it is we hope to cultivate.
These days, when I sit in meditation and practise yoga, my intention is to come home. Not just as an idea, but as a felt experience. To feel the qualities of a great mystery and know this to be home.
The experience itself is beyond definition: it’s the heart which recognises and aligns with it, not the mind. But we communicate through words, so recently, when attempting to describe this great mystery I’ve used the word sacredness. For me, it describes the sense of restful reverence I feel in its presence.
So, I sit in meditation and practise yoga to experience sacredness directly through body, heart and mind. To remember, however briefly, that everything is an expression of its grace.
First, I like to remember the ease of sacredness. With an exhalation I soften and broaden my eyes, lips, tongue, cheeks and jaw. I exhale to release tension in my throat, shoulders, diaphragm and belly.
The arrogance of my self-importance begins to relax and I feel soft and wide.
Next, I remember the groundedness of sacredness. Exhaling, I invite a feeling of roots descending into the Earth, until there’s a sense that I’ve been received, that I belong.
The addiction to the stories which spin like a vortex in my mind begins to relax and I feel held and safe.
Then, I remember the luminous brightness of sacredness. With an inhalation, I lengthen the sides of my body, extend my arms up and free up my breathing to move with ease.
The habits of self-diminishment and collapse begin to relax and I feel present and awake.
Relaxed, safe and awake, I remember the openness of sacredness. Breathing softly into belly, diaphragm, chest and throat, I remind myself that these emotional centres are safe to release and open.
The habits of protection and contraction begin to relax and I feel receptive and alive.
Relaxed, safe, awake and alive, I remember the spaciousness of sacredness. I receive the infinite space which extends in front of me, sensing its warmth and aliveness. I receive this infinite space behind, to the sides, below and above me. I widen into the infinite space which extends within me.
I feel held in Love. I come home.
Together, we come home.
There are many reasons to engage with a spiritual practice, and none of them are wrong. A clear intention helps us remain in alignment with whatever it is we hope to cultivate.
These days, when I sit in meditation and practise yoga, my intention is to come home. Not just as an idea, but as a felt experience. To feel the qualities of a great mystery and know this to be home.
The experience itself is beyond definition: it’s the heart which recognises and aligns with it, not the mind. But we communicate through words, so recently, when attempting to describe this great mystery I’ve used the word sacredness. For me, it describes the sense of restful reverence I feel in its presence.
So, I sit in meditation and practise yoga to experience sacredness directly through body, heart and mind. To remember, however briefly, that everything is an expression of its grace.
First, I like to remember the ease of sacredness. With an exhalation I soften and broaden my eyes, lips, tongue, cheeks and jaw. I exhale to release tension in my throat, shoulders, diaphragm and belly.
The arrogance of my self-importance begins to relax and I feel soft and wide.
Next, I remember the groundedness of sacredness. Exhaling, I invite a feeling of roots descending into the Earth, until there’s a sense that I’ve been received, that I belong.
The addiction to the stories which spin like a vortex in my mind begins to relax and I feel held and safe.
Then, I remember the luminous brightness of sacredness. With an inhalation, I lengthen the sides of my body, extend my arms up and free up my breathing to move with ease.
The habits of self-diminishment and collapse begin to relax and I feel present and awake.
Relaxed, safe and awake, I remember the openness of sacredness. Breathing softly into belly, diaphragm, chest and throat, I remind myself that these emotional centres are safe to release and open.
The habits of protection and contraction begin to relax and I feel receptive and alive.
Relaxed, safe, awake and alive, I remember the spaciousness of sacredness. I receive the infinite space which extends in front of me, sensing its warmth and aliveness. I receive this infinite space behind, to the sides, below and above me. I widen into the infinite space which extends within me.
I feel held in Love. I come home.
Together, we come home.
Sacred Relationship
Most mornings I walk out barefoot to stand in the garden and feel. It invites me into the state of receptivity I aspire to live with and reminds me that I exist within a web of all things. In the last few weeks I have felt the Earth waking up from her winter sleep: the light returning, buds forming, the sun a little more golden.
An honouring of the first rumblings of Spring is deeply embedded in many cultures. On February 1st, the Celtic tradition of Imbolc reminded us of the potential for rebirth. A few days later, the Kabbalistic festival of Tu BiShvat celebrated the birthday of trees. Kabbalists suggest that we each possess a divine spark, like a luminous seed within, hidden beneath layers yet longing to germinate.
I have been reflecting on this relationship between our divine spark and that which hides it, since the beginning of the year. Noticing how this hiding informs our primary relationship towards ourselves, which in turn directly impacts the way we relate to each other and the world. We call this shame. Very quickly, we become ashamed of shame too, which means we start to hide inside it and act as if its stories were true. We deny, disprove or drown inside it, rather than turning towards it with the love it so longs for.
One reason for our tendency to hide inside shame, may be because the stories it tells us about ourselves have unbearable implications: ‘I am not OK. I don’t belong. I’m unimportant. I’m always wrong. I’m unlovable. I’m not enough’. Imagine incarnating as something that is inherently unlovable?
Another reason may be because some common coping mechanisms for living inside shame include diffidence, arrogance and narcissism. Since many of us have experienced or witnessed the violence they leave in their wake, we are less likely to want to admit their presence in ourselves. But until we find and forgive the parts of us that strive to be right and long to be special, it’s hard to embody the compassion and humility so needed in this world for our collective healing. And until we find and forgive the parts of us which hide behind beliefs of inadequacy, it’s hard to embody the full brightness of our light.
What if this light is the spark already here, lying deep within us? And what if the stories of not-enough which we layer over this spark are not a mistake, but the very invitation for growth it requires? What if, when we are able to anchor ourselves in the safety of sacred presence, we turn towards these stories, and in turning towards, grow in our capacity to love?
Like the seed deep underground which responds to the invitation of the warming wet soil by extending still deeper into the Earth whilst reaching up into unknown realms above it. Following only a mysterious knowing in its heart of a most extraordinary blossoming.
This has been my practice, so far this year: to recognise the naturalness of shame. To recognise, too, that shame stories are not only personal, but collective, ancestral and inherited. Which means two things. That it is not our fault when shame arises, yet it is our responsibility to recognise, embrace and resolve it. So that we no longer pass it on.
The terms diffidence, arrogance and narcissism are so loaded with negativity, that it can be more helpful to reflect beyond labels when it comes to noticing our own tendencies and behaviours. Since shame leads to a fragile sense of self, one of the places that we can lovingly turn our attention is in noticing our reactions to perceived criticism or rejection. This is a tender inquiry, kind and gentle, brimming with the willingness to forgive (and perhaps even smile).
How do you react when you feel criticised or rejected?
Do you tend to collapse inside yourself and try to please, escape or hide? Do you tend to withdraw and become defended? Do you tend to turn the perceived criticism around into an attack? Do you tend to use your cleverness or empathic sensitivity to criticise the object of threat in return? Do you tend to believe that this is someone else’s fault? Do you tend to believe that this is your fault?
What would happen if you released the story of wrongness or blame entirely, and simply felt the wounded part within, with so much love?
It is here, when we relax the story, come into the body, breathe and feel, that transformation lies. Whereas shame’s narratives might appear unbearable, no emotion is ever too much to bear. In the body, here and now, there is nothing which cannot be held with love.
There is something still more profound which arises when we shift our attention from the stories to the emotions behind them. When we allow our feelings to be held in loving presence - to be sacred - we actually experience the very thing we have been longing for. Being seen and held, being loved and lovable, being important and having value, being enough and belonging, just as we are. All in the arms of our own loving attention. As the suppressed or embellished emotions beneath stories of not enough are finally allowed to flow and release, what remains over time is simply the atmosphere of curiosity and care with which we attended to them.
Within that field of sacredness, instead of searching for wholeness outside of ourselves, the felt sense and experience of being OK gently grows and blossoms in its own time, from the inside.
Most mornings I walk out barefoot to stand in the garden and feel. It invites me into the state of receptivity I aspire to live with and reminds me that I exist within a web of all things. In the last few weeks I have felt the Earth waking up from her winter sleep: the light returning, buds forming, the sun a little more golden.
An honouring of the first rumblings of Spring is deeply embedded in many cultures. On February 1st, the Celtic tradition of Imbolc reminded us of the potential for rebirth. A few days later, the Kabbalistic festival of Tu BiShvat celebrated the birthday of trees. Kabbalists suggest that we each possess a divine spark, like a luminous seed within, hidden beneath layers yet longing to germinate.
I have been reflecting on this relationship between our divine spark and that which hides it, since the beginning of the year. Noticing how this hiding informs our primary relationship towards ourselves, which in turn directly impacts the way we relate to each other and the world. We call this shame. Very quickly, we become ashamed of shame too, which means we start to hide inside it and act as if its stories were true. We deny, disprove or drown inside it, rather than turning towards it with the love it so longs for.
One reason for our tendency to hide inside shame, may be because the stories it tells us about ourselves have unbearable implications: ‘I am not OK. I don’t belong. I’m unimportant. I’m always wrong. I’m unlovable. I’m not enough’. Imagine incarnating as something that is inherently unlovable?
Another reason may be because some common coping mechanisms for living inside shame include diffidence, arrogance and narcissism. Since many of us have experienced or witnessed the violence they leave in their wake, we are less likely to want to admit their presence in ourselves. But until we find and forgive the parts of us that strive to be right and long to be special, it’s hard to embody the compassion and humility so needed in this world for our collective healing. And until we find and forgive the parts of us which hide behind beliefs of inadequacy, it’s hard to embody the full brightness of our light.
What if this light is the spark already here, lying deep within us? And what if the stories of not-enough which we layer over this spark are not a mistake, but the very invitation for growth it requires? What if, when we are able to anchor ourselves in the safety of sacred presence, we turn towards these stories, and in turning towards, grow in our capacity to love?
Like the seed deep underground which responds to the invitation of the warming wet soil by extending still deeper into the Earth whilst reaching up into unknown realms above it. Following only a mysterious knowing in its heart of a most extraordinary blossoming.
This has been my practice, so far this year: to recognise the naturalness of shame. To recognise, too, that shame stories are not only personal, but collective, ancestral and inherited. Which means two things. That it is not our fault when shame arises, yet it is our responsibility to recognise, embrace and resolve it. So that we no longer pass it on.
The terms diffidence, arrogance and narcissism are so loaded with negativity, that it can be more helpful to reflect beyond labels when it comes to noticing our own tendencies and behaviours. Since shame leads to a fragile sense of self, one of the places that we can lovingly turn our attention is in noticing our reactions to perceived criticism or rejection. This is a tender inquiry, kind and gentle, brimming with the willingness to forgive (and perhaps even smile).
How do you react when you feel criticised or rejected?
Do you tend to collapse inside yourself and try to please, escape or hide? Do you tend to withdraw and become defended? Do you tend to turn the perceived criticism around into an attack? Do you tend to use your cleverness or empathic sensitivity to criticise the object of threat in return? Do you tend to believe that this is someone else’s fault? Do you tend to believe that this is your fault?
What would happen if you released the story of wrongness or blame entirely, and simply felt the wounded part within, with so much love?
It is here, when we relax the story, come into the body, breathe and feel, that transformation lies. Whereas shame’s narratives might appear unbearable, no emotion is ever too much to bear. In the body, here and now, there is nothing which cannot be held with love.
There is something still more profound which arises when we shift our attention from the stories to the emotions behind them. When we allow our feelings to be held in loving presence - to be sacred - we actually experience the very thing we have been longing for. Being seen and held, being loved and lovable, being important and having value, being enough and belonging, just as we are. All in the arms of our own loving attention. As the suppressed or embellished emotions beneath stories of not enough are finally allowed to flow and release, what remains over time is simply the atmosphere of curiosity and care with which we attended to them.
Within that field of sacredness, instead of searching for wholeness outside of ourselves, the felt sense and experience of being OK gently grows and blossoms in its own time, from the inside.
Living in Sacredness
I have decided to start writing on Substack. Partly to inspire me to start sharing more frequently again (for the last two years my writing energy has mostly been flowing into a book), partly to inspire you to join in the conversation with your comments, and partly to have a space where this growing conversation is archived so that we can build on topics over time. Please join using the button above to sign up - subscriptions are free. And for those of you who prefer, I'll share most of what I write here as well!
My intention is to share reflections on how to respond to life’s challenges and delights in ways which bring growth, freedom and liberation. It’s a path of living beyond war, or to turn that around, a path of living in Love. I will be sharing what this actually means and how it might be possible to embody in everyday life. For the last 30 years I have been exploring the potential of yoga, meditation and the Dharma (the teachings of the Buddha) to liberate the body, heart and mind. More recently (over the last 6 years) I have been blessed with a deep dive into the animistic cosmology of the Andes, which has opened new avenues of connection for me. With deeper connection has come deeper surrender, and with deeper surrender, new levels of possibility.
Where these supports and anchors meet the friction of life is where the heat of transformation unfolds. What ‘life’ really means is a flow of relationships: with ourselves, each other and the world. These relationships reflect back to us who we really are as well as who we are not. On the one hand, they illuminate the path when we are lost and give courage when we are afraid. On the other, they show us where our triggers are and expose to us what we do not yet see. And it is also through our relationships that we express who we are.
In other words, if we choose to receive it as such, life is both a classroom for soul growth and a playground for soul expression. This is a perceptual shift. Rather than receiving it as a battleground and going to war with this moment, getting what we want, pushing away what we don’t want and distracting ourselves from the void which appears to stretch in between, we choose to ask new questions. With both humility and courage, we ask, “What can I learn from this moment?”, “What is asking to be loved?” and “What can I offer in return?” We discover that by choosing to relate in a new way, our experience of life changes.
If I were to distil the essence of all this into a few words, it would be the invitation to live in sacredness. The sacredness of the great mysteries of this body, heart and mind; of nature, spirit, love and life itself. Whenever we allow this moment to come to us and meet it wholeheartedly, we enter into a sacred relationship with it.
The relational nature of all things was the Buddha’s foundational insight. It also lays the ground for an understanding of sacredness. The Buddha’s dedicated commitment to direct experience revealed that everything is codependently arising and dissolving in each moment, influencing and being influenced by everything else. Several thousand years later, quantum physicists agreed: everything in the universe exists both in a relationship and as a relationship.
This means that everything matters. Each and every thing is participating in the unfolding of this great mystery and the impact of our actions are unimaginably vast.
It means that everything is precious. Each and every thing is slipping through our fingers, fleeting and effervescent, even as we read these words.
It reminds us that we and all things are inseparable, responsible, ageing… and sacred.
Knowing this, what do we choose to do with this one wild and precious life? Rather than experiencing ourselves as victims to life’s random or vindictive nature and bouncing around from one unconscious reaction to the next, what would happen if we chose to receive the friction of suffering as an invitation to attend with great care, instead? What would happen if we chose to pause before we react, giving time to come into the body and breathe deeply, first? If we chose to relax our obsessive and defensive narratives and soften the grip of our limiting beliefs for long enough to feel what is here, with love? How would our lives begin to change if we lovingly embraced our emotions, so that they no longer hijacked us from shadowy suppression or impulsive reactivity? How would our relationships unfold if we responded with this same curiosity and care to others around us, taking responsibility for our own hearts as we listened to theirs? How would the world look and feel if we honoured it as a living and sacred being into whose web we are inseparably woven?
How might we live these questions into our lives?
Reading and reflecting are helpful supports on our journey, but deep and lasting transformation happens when we embody these teachings in daily life. The process of embodiment happens through a combination of deep immersion into sacredness, combined with bringing this connection back into everyday life. It is where the vertical meets the horizontal - as seen in the symbol of the cross - that the sacred and the profane become one.
I invite you to join me on retreat to strengthen a connection to your body, heart and mind, to the natural and Spirit worlds and to the beautiful community of heart-opening souls who will join you there. I also invite you to come to the monthly workshops I will be holding in London where we will re-establish these connections, and explore where we fall back into the forgetfulness of reactivity in everyday life. The more we recognise the triggers of reactivity, the more we are empowered to choose another way, next time. We also have a WhatsApp group (called LOVE, of course) where we share more intimate and everyday experiences and support each other along the way.
I look forward to seeing you soon! Let's grow this community of Love together. Let's learn to live in sacredness.
I have decided to start writing on Substack. Partly to inspire me to start sharing more frequently again (for the last two years my writing energy has mostly been flowing into a book), partly to inspire you to join in the conversation with your comments, and partly to have a space where this growing conversation is archived so that we can build on topics over time. Please join using the button above to sign up - subscriptions are free. And for those of you who prefer, I'll share most of what I write here as well!
My intention is to share reflections on how to respond to life’s challenges and delights in ways which bring growth, freedom and liberation. It’s a path of living beyond war, or to turn that around, a path of living in Love. I will be sharing what this actually means and how it might be possible to embody in everyday life. For the last 30 years I have been exploring the potential of yoga, meditation and the Dharma (the teachings of the Buddha) to liberate the body, heart and mind. More recently (over the last 6 years) I have been blessed with a deep dive into the animistic cosmology of the Andes, which has opened new avenues of connection for me. With deeper connection has come deeper surrender, and with deeper surrender, new levels of possibility.
Where these supports and anchors meet the friction of life is where the heat of transformation unfolds. What ‘life’ really means is a flow of relationships: with ourselves, each other and the world. These relationships reflect back to us who we really are as well as who we are not. On the one hand, they illuminate the path when we are lost and give courage when we are afraid. On the other, they show us where our triggers are and expose to us what we do not yet see. And it is also through our relationships that we express who we are.
In other words, if we choose to receive it as such, life is both a classroom for soul growth and a playground for soul expression. This is a perceptual shift. Rather than receiving it as a battleground and going to war with this moment, getting what we want, pushing away what we don’t want and distracting ourselves from the void which appears to stretch in between, we choose to ask new questions. With both humility and courage, we ask, “What can I learn from this moment?”, “What is asking to be loved?” and “What can I offer in return?” We discover that by choosing to relate in a new way, our experience of life changes.
If I were to distil the essence of all this into a few words, it would be the invitation to live in sacredness. The sacredness of the great mysteries of this body, heart and mind; of nature, spirit, love and life itself. Whenever we allow this moment to come to us and meet it wholeheartedly, we enter into a sacred relationship with it.
The relational nature of all things was the Buddha’s foundational insight. It also lays the ground for an understanding of sacredness. The Buddha’s dedicated commitment to direct experience revealed that everything is codependently arising and dissolving in each moment, influencing and being influenced by everything else. Several thousand years later, quantum physicists agreed: everything in the universe exists both in a relationship and as a relationship.
This means that everything matters. Each and every thing is participating in the unfolding of this great mystery and the impact of our actions are unimaginably vast.
It means that everything is precious. Each and every thing is slipping through our fingers, fleeting and effervescent, even as we read these words.
It reminds us that we and all things are inseparable, responsible, ageing… and sacred.
Knowing this, what do we choose to do with this one wild and precious life? Rather than experiencing ourselves as victims to life’s random or vindictive nature and bouncing around from one unconscious reaction to the next, what would happen if we chose to receive the friction of suffering as an invitation to attend with great care, instead? What would happen if we chose to pause before we react, giving time to come into the body and breathe deeply, first? If we chose to relax our obsessive and defensive narratives and soften the grip of our limiting beliefs for long enough to feel what is here, with love? How would our lives begin to change if we lovingly embraced our emotions, so that they no longer hijacked us from shadowy suppression or impulsive reactivity? How would our relationships unfold if we responded with this same curiosity and care to others around us, taking responsibility for our own hearts as we listened to theirs? How would the world look and feel if we honoured it as a living and sacred being into whose web we are inseparably woven?
How might we live these questions into our lives?
Reading and reflecting are helpful supports on our journey, but deep and lasting transformation happens when we embody these teachings in daily life. The process of embodiment happens through a combination of deep immersion into sacredness, combined with bringing this connection back into everyday life. It is where the vertical meets the horizontal - as seen in the symbol of the cross - that the sacred and the profane become one.
I invite you to join me on retreat to strengthen a connection to your body, heart and mind, to the natural and Spirit worlds and to the beautiful community of heart-opening souls who will join you there. I also invite you to come to the monthly workshops I will be holding in London where we will re-establish these connections, and explore where we fall back into the forgetfulness of reactivity in everyday life. The more we recognise the triggers of reactivity, the more we are empowered to choose another way, next time. We also have a WhatsApp group (called LOVE, of course) where we share more intimate and everyday experiences and support each other along the way.
I look forward to seeing you soon! Let's grow this community of Love together. Let's learn to live in sacredness.
Joy #2
Beautiful friends… offering you these words on Joy as I emerge from a week of silent solo retreat, where yoga, meditation and prayer in a wildflower meadow held me profoundly and deeply in the lap of all things. I know so many who are surfing great waves these days. I know those waves too, and offer these words to the place in your heart that knows the truth that joy is already here. Ready to embrace us as we rise up for air. Inviting us onwards as we learn to swim. Dissolving us into it all as we remember we are the ocean.
Joy
Joy is what shines through when all else falls away.
When the noise and clamour of a mind looking for something to fix settles and softens and opens to witness and receive.
When the compulsive search for stimulation is paused for long enough for the dullness of deep fatigue to show itself and ask for rest.
Joy emerges as gratitude in the softness of a body allowed to sleep, stepping out of the tyranny of Time and into the rhythms of Earth.
Rising with the chorus of dawn and being brought to rest by the lullaby of dusk as one of her many inhales and exhales spinning through space.
Joy is the homecoming that expands inside the thick smell of warm sun on wet earth, the pillowy softness of grass underfoot, the hum of a hundred wings in flight.
It's what dances through me in careful steps through tangled wildflowers, bowing to the forest of life within them, delighting in the earthy sweetness of the taste of red clover.
Joy is what ignites as I run for no reason other than its spark moving through me, laughing as the world streaks by.
It is woken up by the shock of cold water, the caress of sunlight and breeze against bare skin.
It is brought to its knees in the deep ocean of cornflower blue, the brazenness of poppy red, the impossible palate of nature.
Joy is what shines through when I come home to the miracle of being alive, receiving life in softness and stillness as the world steps closer and closer to greet me in turn.
Two deer race past in play (I know that feeling now too), one stopping suddenly only metres from where I sit, both of us watching, unmoving.
Joy speaks louder than words as my heart expands, relaxed in gentleness and ease, and the other joins as they buck and paw, playing at the threshold of my tent.
A hare eats clover as I sit in stillness, all four of our ears standing tall and smiling.
A woodpecker observes me, so close we watch each other’s eyes watching.
Two ducklings, still fluffy, emerge from the reeds, no longer afraid
of a blundering coarseness that once was too busy to stop and know this was their home.
Beneath the old Beech I’m surrounded by bumblebees: 8, 9, 10 humming around me, not stinging but insistent.
I open my eyes and ears to receive, and moving my cushion I see the hole in the ground. They disappear into it, quietly focussed.
I wonder what else I miss when I’m too busy to listen. I wonder what else is insistently asking me to notice the disturbance my deafness creates.
Joy is what fizzes and bubbles from womb to heart as I prepare to come home.
It stretches wide to know I’ll be holding my loved ones close.
Excited to share what I learnt from the bees: to stop and listen; to see and receive.
To witness in wonder the miracle of them and the mystery of love between us.
I write this now to remind myself.
I hope to remember that joy is always here.
When I am ready to stop running inside a world of my own creation and open my heart to be held by the mystery of a world which creates me each day.
A world waiting to tell me of my place in her great green and blue lap.
As joy speaks to and through me, moving me in gentle forgiveness,
bringing me to my knees in gratitude for so much wonder, for so many blessings.
It is from here that my strength is growing.
It is from here that my path is revealed.
Beautiful friends… offering you these words on Joy as I emerge from a week of silent solo retreat, where yoga, meditation and prayer in a wildflower meadow held me profoundly and deeply in the lap of all things. I know so many who are surfing great waves these days. I know those waves too, and offer these words to the place in your heart that knows the truth that joy is already here. Ready to embrace us as we rise up for air. Inviting us onwards as we learn to swim. Dissolving us into it all as we remember we are the ocean.
Joy
Joy is what shines through when all else falls away.
When the noise and clamour of a mind looking for something to fix settles and softens and opens to witness and receive.
When the compulsive search for stimulation is paused for long enough for the dullness of deep fatigue to show itself and ask for rest.
Joy emerges as gratitude in the softness of a body allowed to sleep, stepping out of the tyranny of Time and into the rhythms of Earth.
Rising with the chorus of dawn and being brought to rest by the lullaby of dusk as one of her many inhales and exhales spinning through space.
Joy is the homecoming that expands inside the thick smell of warm sun on wet earth, the pillowy softness of grass underfoot, the hum of a hundred wings in flight.
It's what dances through me in careful steps through tangled wildflowers, bowing to the forest of life within them, delighting in the earthy sweetness of the taste of red clover.
Joy is what ignites as I run for no reason other than its spark moving through me, laughing as the world streaks by.
It is woken up by the shock of cold water, the caress of sunlight and breeze against bare skin.
It is brought to its knees in the deep ocean of cornflower blue, the brazenness of poppy red, the impossible palate of nature.
Joy is what shines through when I come home to the miracle of being alive, receiving life in softness and stillness as the world steps closer and closer to greet me in turn.
Two deer race past in play (I know that feeling now too), one stopping suddenly only metres from where I sit, both of us watching, unmoving.
Joy speaks louder than words as my heart expands, relaxed in gentleness and ease, and the other joins as they buck and paw, playing at the threshold of my tent.
A hare eats clover as I sit in stillness, all four of our ears standing tall and smiling.
A woodpecker observes me, so close we watch each other’s eyes watching.
Two ducklings, still fluffy, emerge from the reeds, no longer afraid
of a blundering coarseness that once was too busy to stop and know this was their home.
Beneath the old Beech I’m surrounded by bumblebees: 8, 9, 10 humming around me, not stinging but insistent.
I open my eyes and ears to receive, and moving my cushion I see the hole in the ground. They disappear into it, quietly focussed.
I wonder what else I miss when I’m too busy to listen. I wonder what else is insistently asking me to notice the disturbance my deafness creates.
Joy is what fizzes and bubbles from womb to heart as I prepare to come home.
It stretches wide to know I’ll be holding my loved ones close.
Excited to share what I learnt from the bees: to stop and listen; to see and receive.
To witness in wonder the miracle of them and the mystery of love between us.
I write this now to remind myself.
I hope to remember that joy is always here.
When I am ready to stop running inside a world of my own creation and open my heart to be held by the mystery of a world which creates me each day.
A world waiting to tell me of my place in her great green and blue lap.
As joy speaks to and through me, moving me in gentle forgiveness,
bringing me to my knees in gratitude for so much wonder, for so many blessings.
It is from here that my strength is growing.
It is from here that my path is revealed.
Happy super flower blood moon lunar eclipse and Wesak!
May we and all beings remember that we are flowers in the garden, dancing with starlight, inseparable from Love and custodians of all its manifestation in form.
I offer a prayer this year to us all as women and men, learning to live beyond war, finding our ways home separately and together.
May we beautiful women come together in sisterhood, that we may experience our own radiance, no longer believing our light needs permission or recognition from a man. Remembering in our own and each other’s eyes that it shines abundantly and uniquely from our own hearts and wombs in all ways, always.
May you beautiful men come together in brotherhood, no longer going to war to possess or defend, no longer looking for your light to be reflected back or your strength enabled by a woman. Remembering in your own and each other’s eyes the true strength of vulnerability and authenticity in all ways, always.
May we all celebrate, forgive and trust ourselves and each other as we tenderly recognise the folly of having believed we were anything other than radiantly whole in all ways, always.
May we and all beings remember that we are flowers in the garden, dancing with starlight, inseparable from Love and custodians of all its manifestation in form.
I offer a prayer this year to us all as women and men, learning to live beyond war, finding our ways home separately and together.
May we beautiful women come together in sisterhood, that we may experience our own radiance, no longer believing our light needs permission or recognition from a man. Remembering in our own and each other’s eyes that it shines abundantly and uniquely from our own hearts and wombs in all ways, always.
May you beautiful men come together in brotherhood, no longer going to war to possess or defend, no longer looking for your light to be reflected back or your strength enabled by a woman. Remembering in your own and each other’s eyes the true strength of vulnerability and authenticity in all ways, always.
May we all celebrate, forgive and trust ourselves and each other as we tenderly recognise the folly of having believed we were anything other than radiantly whole in all ways, always.
Questions from the heart to the head:
Perhaps there is nothing wrong with me?
Maybe I'm already an extraordinary being?
Given these two possibilities, what am I here to learn?
How am I here to grow?
What am I here to delight in and discover?
How am I here to serve?
Perhaps there is nothing wrong with me?
Maybe I'm already an extraordinary being?
Given these two possibilities, what am I here to learn?
How am I here to grow?
What am I here to delight in and discover?
How am I here to serve?
Feathers into Empty Space
There is no loss, only change.
The things I thought would stay forever
were already transforming, slipping through my fingers
even as I held on to a dream that never was.
And the things I know are here to grow
keep asking me to stay, but step back
and further back as they learn to breathe on their own.
So much I believed would die remains
until a sweet surrender lets them go
falling like feathers into empty space.
While the future is always already here
waiting to be woven by hands no longer fretting
and fussing with holding on and pushing away.
No part of this mystery has ever been mine to keep.
Deep Bow
Deep bow to the men who are recognising the great power of the feminine energies rising in these times!
Who are seeing the powerful women around them grow into their grace without trying to possess them.
Who are supporting the unfolding of these women without making it into a narrative about their own vision or power.
Deep bow to the men who are trusting vulnerability to alchemise their own hearts as they honour the strength they witness.
Deep bow to the women who are no longer turning away from the wisdom, compassion and delight already alive inside them!
Who are letting go of all they once projected onto, trusting the rawness exposed and the love that embraces it as the source of true strength and fulfilment.
Who are holding and being held by others as together they grow roots into the Earth and open their crowns to starlight.
Deep bow to the women who are finding the courage to respond to the calling to stand as woman and simply be.
In Freedom, Grace, Joy, Reverence and Peace.
There is no loss, only change.
The things I thought would stay forever
were already transforming, slipping through my fingers
even as I held on to a dream that never was.
And the things I know are here to grow
keep asking me to stay, but step back
and further back as they learn to breathe on their own.
So much I believed would die remains
until a sweet surrender lets them go
falling like feathers into empty space.
While the future is always already here
waiting to be woven by hands no longer fretting
and fussing with holding on and pushing away.
No part of this mystery has ever been mine to keep.
Deep Bow
Deep bow to the men who are recognising the great power of the feminine energies rising in these times!
Who are seeing the powerful women around them grow into their grace without trying to possess them.
Who are supporting the unfolding of these women without making it into a narrative about their own vision or power.
Deep bow to the men who are trusting vulnerability to alchemise their own hearts as they honour the strength they witness.
Deep bow to the women who are no longer turning away from the wisdom, compassion and delight already alive inside them!
Who are letting go of all they once projected onto, trusting the rawness exposed and the love that embraces it as the source of true strength and fulfilment.
Who are holding and being held by others as together they grow roots into the Earth and open their crowns to starlight.
Deep bow to the women who are finding the courage to respond to the calling to stand as woman and simply be.
In Freedom, Grace, Joy, Reverence and Peace.
Joy
Joy is what shines through when all else falls away.
When we drop, or just briefly part, the beliefs that guard the heart.
Joy emerges innocently and uncalled when we pause from this inner clamour for long enough to recognise its dream fabric woven from undigested fear.
Joy pierces through when we witness the soul directly, when we see and feel our majesty reflected back in the eyes of another or the arms of nature.
Joy remains wild and alive until the mind rushes in to make sense of a vastness it can’t control, making it safe, placing it outside us to be managed with gain and loss.
Better to possess and lose than surrender, safer to settle for a fleeting replica of joy, one that does what it’s told or can be blamed when it disobeys, like a wild creature broken and tamed for public view.
Joy will not be tamed.
It asks us only to surrender to the untamable truth that we’re already whole and yet also becoming.
It emerges as we recognise that we are remembering wholeness here, an extraordinary mantle to carry.
Joy shines a light of wonder and awe even as we are called to walk through fire, to burn away the edges of the cages we build around us.
It is Joy which continues to shine when all else falls away.
Joy is what shines through when all else falls away.
When we drop, or just briefly part, the beliefs that guard the heart.
Joy emerges innocently and uncalled when we pause from this inner clamour for long enough to recognise its dream fabric woven from undigested fear.
Joy pierces through when we witness the soul directly, when we see and feel our majesty reflected back in the eyes of another or the arms of nature.
Joy remains wild and alive until the mind rushes in to make sense of a vastness it can’t control, making it safe, placing it outside us to be managed with gain and loss.
Better to possess and lose than surrender, safer to settle for a fleeting replica of joy, one that does what it’s told or can be blamed when it disobeys, like a wild creature broken and tamed for public view.
Joy will not be tamed.
It asks us only to surrender to the untamable truth that we’re already whole and yet also becoming.
It emerges as we recognise that we are remembering wholeness here, an extraordinary mantle to carry.
Joy shines a light of wonder and awe even as we are called to walk through fire, to burn away the edges of the cages we build around us.
It is Joy which continues to shine when all else falls away.
Grief
Grief is an inevitable and appropriate response during this Pachakuti: the Great Overturning much prophesied by Inkan elders, now pulling us along in its wake.
We cannot grow and transform unless we recognise what has been broken, and allow the grief of this truth to tenderise us into renewed kindness and reverence.
Grief permeates me these days in ways that are not morbid, but like a quiet song reminding me of the work at hand. It emerges in gentle moments, even amidst the greatest gifts and joys of my life. It invites me to keep opening my eyes, to keep growing in courage.
I breathe into it in the silence of my beloved's arms just before sleep, allowing it to move me without trying to fix or understand. I allow it to sing its song through the stillness of early morning birdsong and the clamour of spring flowers, as it asks me to care so deeply that I no longer turn away.
Grief calls me to loving attention from all corners of life: personal and collective, present and historical. It comes from the cry of the oceans and forests, the oppressed and abused, the young ones still finding a home within my own being, the simple recognition of how much it asks of this heart to let others in, to let others be and to let them go.
I watch my faithful mind habitually move in to give reason, wanting to shift from the feeling, afraid it might draw me under. But life has taught me, through those moments where grief was acute and there was nowhere else to turn, that staying right here, with courage and trust, that feeling it all, like a river of tears finding its way to the ocean of love, is what heals and transforms. Not fixing or fussing, not distracting or numbing.
I have learnt that the courage to be vulnerable to grief is what prepares the ground for a new kind of kindness to sprout. One that recognises how fragile and fleeting this precious life is, how significant each moment, each insect, each raindrop... each thing. The courage to allow grief to break up the stony ground of my heart into a softer soil is growing a quality of reverence there that is young and tender but here to stay.
I am trusting that this tree of reverence will one day hold grief in its own strong branches in turn. And I will have learnt to walk more lightly and kindly on this precious Earth, to give and receive more tenderly, to do what I’m called to do. To not break so much as I move around.
Grief is an inevitable and appropriate response during this Pachakuti: the Great Overturning much prophesied by Inkan elders, now pulling us along in its wake.
We cannot grow and transform unless we recognise what has been broken, and allow the grief of this truth to tenderise us into renewed kindness and reverence.
Grief permeates me these days in ways that are not morbid, but like a quiet song reminding me of the work at hand. It emerges in gentle moments, even amidst the greatest gifts and joys of my life. It invites me to keep opening my eyes, to keep growing in courage.
I breathe into it in the silence of my beloved's arms just before sleep, allowing it to move me without trying to fix or understand. I allow it to sing its song through the stillness of early morning birdsong and the clamour of spring flowers, as it asks me to care so deeply that I no longer turn away.
Grief calls me to loving attention from all corners of life: personal and collective, present and historical. It comes from the cry of the oceans and forests, the oppressed and abused, the young ones still finding a home within my own being, the simple recognition of how much it asks of this heart to let others in, to let others be and to let them go.
I watch my faithful mind habitually move in to give reason, wanting to shift from the feeling, afraid it might draw me under. But life has taught me, through those moments where grief was acute and there was nowhere else to turn, that staying right here, with courage and trust, that feeling it all, like a river of tears finding its way to the ocean of love, is what heals and transforms. Not fixing or fussing, not distracting or numbing.
I have learnt that the courage to be vulnerable to grief is what prepares the ground for a new kind of kindness to sprout. One that recognises how fragile and fleeting this precious life is, how significant each moment, each insect, each raindrop... each thing. The courage to allow grief to break up the stony ground of my heart into a softer soil is growing a quality of reverence there that is young and tender but here to stay.
I am trusting that this tree of reverence will one day hold grief in its own strong branches in turn. And I will have learnt to walk more lightly and kindly on this precious Earth, to give and receive more tenderly, to do what I’m called to do. To not break so much as I move around.
Regret
There are many things I regret in my life, and I am deeply grateful for each one of them.
To regret is to recognise that I would do something differently now, which is to know I have changed and grown, not in spite of what I regret, but because of it.
Regret is the ache of that passageway of transformation from what was to what is, when it acknowledges the gratitude for the opportunity of growth. It only becomes a stifling prison when we live inside the regret as if held us hostage to an imperfect past.
Forgiveness is the key to that prison. It is the appreciation that everything we do arises from all that we are in that moment of time. A realisation that transforms blame into appropriate action.
Without regret, self forgiveness carries no fuel for action. Together, regret and forgiveness ask, knowing this now, what do I do?
What does the person I wish I had been then, choose to do now in gratitude for the journey that has taken me here?
There are many things I regret in my life, and I am deeply grateful for each one of them.
To regret is to recognise that I would do something differently now, which is to know I have changed and grown, not in spite of what I regret, but because of it.
Regret is the ache of that passageway of transformation from what was to what is, when it acknowledges the gratitude for the opportunity of growth. It only becomes a stifling prison when we live inside the regret as if held us hostage to an imperfect past.
Forgiveness is the key to that prison. It is the appreciation that everything we do arises from all that we are in that moment of time. A realisation that transforms blame into appropriate action.
Without regret, self forgiveness carries no fuel for action. Together, regret and forgiveness ask, knowing this now, what do I do?
What does the person I wish I had been then, choose to do now in gratitude for the journey that has taken me here?
As Earth is my Witness
We are having to face the shocking truth that who we are and what we feel is already perfect.
Our attempts to hide from or manipulate ourselves, each other and this moment have proved so violent that we have created a mirror of our own destruction.
This too is perfect, not as a final outcome but as an invitation to wake up, grow up and show up as we truly are.
We imagine it is preposterous and arrogant to believe our future self to be our awakened self. Doubt is the last weapon of the egoic mind trying to maintain its sense of a small, separate self. It was the last form the inner critic took when it attacked the Buddha at the cusp of his enlightenment: "Who are YOU to awaken?".
At which the Buddha touched the ground simply: "As Earth is my witness".
As Earth is my witness. I get shivers every time I think of this.
Our small selves say, “Oh no, not me, that’s not who I am! Other great people wake up, not me! It takes lifetimes anyway, not this one, not now! I am not as vast and powerful as this mysterious universe so I will dominate or manipulate what is close to me instead...”
In truth, the preposterous arrogance is only in believing we are, and could ever be, separate, and therefore different, from this vast, powerful and mysterious universe.
We are learning to touch the ground as witness of our belonging. We, too, are sacred, holy and awake.
This is even more important for us as women, because we have almost no models through history of awakened women. We are She, pathfinders, way-showers. Women waking up out of our violent and protective insignificance. Allowing men to step out of their violent and protective arrogance to stand by our sides. When we free ourselves, we free each other.
Love’s willingness to allow for humility, letting go and sweet forgiveness ironically returns us to the (no longer shocking) truth that who I am and who you are, and what I feel and what you feel, is already perfect.
Here and now, in this lifetime.
We are having to face the shocking truth that who we are and what we feel is already perfect.
Our attempts to hide from or manipulate ourselves, each other and this moment have proved so violent that we have created a mirror of our own destruction.
This too is perfect, not as a final outcome but as an invitation to wake up, grow up and show up as we truly are.
We imagine it is preposterous and arrogant to believe our future self to be our awakened self. Doubt is the last weapon of the egoic mind trying to maintain its sense of a small, separate self. It was the last form the inner critic took when it attacked the Buddha at the cusp of his enlightenment: "Who are YOU to awaken?".
At which the Buddha touched the ground simply: "As Earth is my witness".
As Earth is my witness. I get shivers every time I think of this.
Our small selves say, “Oh no, not me, that’s not who I am! Other great people wake up, not me! It takes lifetimes anyway, not this one, not now! I am not as vast and powerful as this mysterious universe so I will dominate or manipulate what is close to me instead...”
In truth, the preposterous arrogance is only in believing we are, and could ever be, separate, and therefore different, from this vast, powerful and mysterious universe.
We are learning to touch the ground as witness of our belonging. We, too, are sacred, holy and awake.
This is even more important for us as women, because we have almost no models through history of awakened women. We are She, pathfinders, way-showers. Women waking up out of our violent and protective insignificance. Allowing men to step out of their violent and protective arrogance to stand by our sides. When we free ourselves, we free each other.
Love’s willingness to allow for humility, letting go and sweet forgiveness ironically returns us to the (no longer shocking) truth that who I am and who you are, and what I feel and what you feel, is already perfect.
Here and now, in this lifetime.
Sacred Alignment
Today I came across two authors from either side of the current Covid debate independently using the same words used to describe the other camp. Each felt the other side was caught in “misinformation, confusion and rampant fear.”
It was interesting to see this so starkly. It seems that misinformation, confusion and rampant fear is indeed where we can easily find ourselves whenever we take an absolute stance on either side of a debate. We will always move to defend our side when a combination of all three hijacks the wisdom of curiosity and care.
I am feeling so strongly that this epoch is inviting us to discover a deeper connection between right and left brain, science and mysticism, through a willingness to enter into genuine conversation there. There have been good reasons for us to be angry or afraid of scientific and technological developments unhinged from heart and soul, and this indeed is a place that clear boundaries need to be made as we go forward. Many of us are sensitive to the violence of the last centuries, but if we don’t meet the anger and grief inside ourselves, we will remain at war and unknowingly perpetuate that violence.
As I am learning to forgive in my personal life, I am also learning to listen without so much defence. Which is allowing me to discover so much beyond my old preconceptions. I am genuinely excited by a future that will marry scientific and technological brilliance with ancient Earth and heart wisdom. Just as we are learning how to harness this wild creative mind of ours to be a faithful servant of the heart, so too will these advancements come to support us to live in harmony and balance when they are brought into alignment with the greater good.
This conversation can only begin when we are willing to recognise our prejudices and preconceptions. What do those of us who are inclined to right brain perspectives really know and understand about the potential for scientific and technological intervention beyond our limiting beliefs? I am humbled to be hearing of some world changing possibilities in these areas that absolutely support my values and aspirations. Similarly, what do those of us who are inclined to left brain perspectives really know and understand about the potential of living and learning in harmony with all things in all directions? Humility will take us all a long way as we bring the energies of head, heart and hara into sacred alignment.
Today I came across two authors from either side of the current Covid debate independently using the same words used to describe the other camp. Each felt the other side was caught in “misinformation, confusion and rampant fear.”
It was interesting to see this so starkly. It seems that misinformation, confusion and rampant fear is indeed where we can easily find ourselves whenever we take an absolute stance on either side of a debate. We will always move to defend our side when a combination of all three hijacks the wisdom of curiosity and care.
I am feeling so strongly that this epoch is inviting us to discover a deeper connection between right and left brain, science and mysticism, through a willingness to enter into genuine conversation there. There have been good reasons for us to be angry or afraid of scientific and technological developments unhinged from heart and soul, and this indeed is a place that clear boundaries need to be made as we go forward. Many of us are sensitive to the violence of the last centuries, but if we don’t meet the anger and grief inside ourselves, we will remain at war and unknowingly perpetuate that violence.
As I am learning to forgive in my personal life, I am also learning to listen without so much defence. Which is allowing me to discover so much beyond my old preconceptions. I am genuinely excited by a future that will marry scientific and technological brilliance with ancient Earth and heart wisdom. Just as we are learning how to harness this wild creative mind of ours to be a faithful servant of the heart, so too will these advancements come to support us to live in harmony and balance when they are brought into alignment with the greater good.
This conversation can only begin when we are willing to recognise our prejudices and preconceptions. What do those of us who are inclined to right brain perspectives really know and understand about the potential for scientific and technological intervention beyond our limiting beliefs? I am humbled to be hearing of some world changing possibilities in these areas that absolutely support my values and aspirations. Similarly, what do those of us who are inclined to left brain perspectives really know and understand about the potential of living and learning in harmony with all things in all directions? Humility will take us all a long way as we bring the energies of head, heart and hara into sacred alignment.
How can we see what we can’t see?
How can we see what we can’t see?
This is the invitation of the spiritual path and yet remains a paradox.
How is it even possible to see what we can’t see?
The answer is simple: just like our own face, we need a mirror to reflect it back.
Life is the mirror making the unseen visible in every interaction.
Asking us to see what we can’t see.
Yet we hide from the mirror behind justifications.
Justifying the pain of blame, choosing to believe our stories instead.
Blind to the compassion that softens us into acting from grace.
Justifying armour, calling it boundaries. Justifying obsession, calling it love.
Blind to the wisdom of letting go and forgiveness that reveal a deeper joy.
Justifying cruelty with the arrows of “should” which hide both grief and fear.
Blind to the courage and trust that lead us to reverence and peace.
So how can we see what we can’t see?
By listening to the heart, which already knows what freedom feels like and how love moves, not fooled by posturing or words.
By listening to suffering, which shows us how much energy it takes to hide.
By listening to life, because whatever we haven’t yet seen will keep coming to find us in different forms with a love unending.
By remembering that it’s ok to not see, to fall to our knees in not knowing, to stumble and crumble and get up once again, to say sorry and forgive, to receive the message and let go, to keep wondering and opening without knowing who we are and exactly where we’re going...
When we look in the mirror of life with eyes that are willing to see what they cannot see, we’re shown that our greatest blessings are curiosity, kindness and humility.
We discover that our most indestructible armours were arrogance and shame.
We feel that the kindest gifts to ourselves are forgiveness and commitment.
And we recognise that the greatest offering to others is the patience and permission for them to see what they don’t yet see... when the time is right for them.
How can we see what we can’t see?
This is the invitation of the spiritual path and yet remains a paradox.
How is it even possible to see what we can’t see?
The answer is simple: just like our own face, we need a mirror to reflect it back.
Life is the mirror making the unseen visible in every interaction.
Asking us to see what we can’t see.
Yet we hide from the mirror behind justifications.
Justifying the pain of blame, choosing to believe our stories instead.
Blind to the compassion that softens us into acting from grace.
Justifying armour, calling it boundaries. Justifying obsession, calling it love.
Blind to the wisdom of letting go and forgiveness that reveal a deeper joy.
Justifying cruelty with the arrows of “should” which hide both grief and fear.
Blind to the courage and trust that lead us to reverence and peace.
So how can we see what we can’t see?
By listening to the heart, which already knows what freedom feels like and how love moves, not fooled by posturing or words.
By listening to suffering, which shows us how much energy it takes to hide.
By listening to life, because whatever we haven’t yet seen will keep coming to find us in different forms with a love unending.
By remembering that it’s ok to not see, to fall to our knees in not knowing, to stumble and crumble and get up once again, to say sorry and forgive, to receive the message and let go, to keep wondering and opening without knowing who we are and exactly where we’re going...
When we look in the mirror of life with eyes that are willing to see what they cannot see, we’re shown that our greatest blessings are curiosity, kindness and humility.
We discover that our most indestructible armours were arrogance and shame.
We feel that the kindest gifts to ourselves are forgiveness and commitment.
And we recognise that the greatest offering to others is the patience and permission for them to see what they don’t yet see... when the time is right for them.
Letting go is not losing
From full to new moon I’ve been led, once again,
through a cycle of letting go. Taking me closer,
each time, to this empty space within.
And with each surrender into yet more nakedness,
as grief rises up to defend unnamed fears beneath,
Love is here waiting for me to open and ask for help.
“Letting go is not losing”
she whispers
“Letting go is simply freeing.”
She reminds me what she told me many years ago:
“Remember who you are. Remember why you’ve come.
Then set me free.”
So I offer Love back to herself
in all her glorious forms.
And remember that this is indeed what I’ve come to do.
To taste, if only for a moment
something uninhibited, unconditional,
and wholeheartedly free.
From full to new moon I’ve been led, once again,
through a cycle of letting go. Taking me closer,
each time, to this empty space within.
And with each surrender into yet more nakedness,
as grief rises up to defend unnamed fears beneath,
Love is here waiting for me to open and ask for help.
“Letting go is not losing”
she whispers
“Letting go is simply freeing.”
She reminds me what she told me many years ago:
“Remember who you are. Remember why you’ve come.
Then set me free.”
So I offer Love back to herself
in all her glorious forms.
And remember that this is indeed what I’ve come to do.
To taste, if only for a moment
something uninhibited, unconditional,
and wholeheartedly free.
When I walked with the moon
Late last night when I walked with the moon
she showed me the radiance of her feminine face:
unashamed, uninhibited grace.
I felt my lineage behind me
each showing me why they had needed to hide
and the work they had done to reveal a new crescent of light.
Like the phases of the moon laying patient foundations
each of us peeling away what is ours to release
as we rise and stand for all that is true.
So I asked the moon, please take from me what I no longer need
and with silvery fingers she plucked a cloak of vengeance
I hadn’t even known was there.
That’s not what I meant, I protested
because they’ve done wrong -
they hurt us and are blind to the truth!
But she simply smiled a brilliant smile of liquid light
and showed me how heavy and dark
those thoughts rest on my shoulders.
How they keep me entangled in stories
that were only ever here to help me hide
for the times I had needed to hide.
You’re bigger than that, you’re ready to shine!
whispered behind me like ripples through time
We’re right here behind you: you stand for us all!
So I let slip that cloak of vengeance
just as the moon forgives her own darkness
as she returns each month to wholeness
And I invited the power of her liquid light
to show me the radiance of my feminine face:
unashamed, uninhibited grace.
Late last night when I walked with the moon
she showed me the radiance of her feminine face:
unashamed, uninhibited grace.
I felt my lineage behind me
each showing me why they had needed to hide
and the work they had done to reveal a new crescent of light.
Like the phases of the moon laying patient foundations
each of us peeling away what is ours to release
as we rise and stand for all that is true.
So I asked the moon, please take from me what I no longer need
and with silvery fingers she plucked a cloak of vengeance
I hadn’t even known was there.
That’s not what I meant, I protested
because they’ve done wrong -
they hurt us and are blind to the truth!
But she simply smiled a brilliant smile of liquid light
and showed me how heavy and dark
those thoughts rest on my shoulders.
How they keep me entangled in stories
that were only ever here to help me hide
for the times I had needed to hide.
You’re bigger than that, you’re ready to shine!
whispered behind me like ripples through time
We’re right here behind you: you stand for us all!
So I let slip that cloak of vengeance
just as the moon forgives her own darkness
as she returns each month to wholeness
And I invited the power of her liquid light
to show me the radiance of my feminine face:
unashamed, uninhibited grace.
Love and Faith
Just before I opened my eyes this morning - which is the moment I have the clearest access to truth - I heard that something is being born that is so exquisite I don’t yet have words to describe it. If it’s in me, then it’s in you. And if it’s in you and me then it’s in the world. Even as this world appears to be in deepest darkness, I am hearing this is the darkness of the womb. We are being called to water the seeds planted there with such love and faith that the formless and wordless grows into a beauty within and around us that you and I recognise as home. Thank you for all that you do.
Just before I opened my eyes this morning - which is the moment I have the clearest access to truth - I heard that something is being born that is so exquisite I don’t yet have words to describe it. If it’s in me, then it’s in you. And if it’s in you and me then it’s in the world. Even as this world appears to be in deepest darkness, I am hearing this is the darkness of the womb. We are being called to water the seeds planted there with such love and faith that the formless and wordless grows into a beauty within and around us that you and I recognise as home. Thank you for all that you do.
Imbolc and Satsang
This evening marks the beginning of Imbolc, the Celtic festival that signals the start of Spring. The original word Imbolg means "in the belly". We are at the threshold of the stirring of new life, but like the gentle curve of a new pregnancy, it's barely visible. Felt and known rather than seen, it is the promise of renewal, of hidden potential, of an awakening stirring. Here in London, I can smell, hear and feel something of the promise of Spring, helping me to remember the inevitable return of the light, even whilst knowing that the coldest month still lies ahead.
There is, as always, a parallel journey within. There are certainly many stirrings of birth inside me, seeds that have been germinating since the summer solstice (and of course beyond), that now are beginning to come into form. I can already feel what is emerging and yet I know there is an ongoing journey of embodiment that lies ahead. This is what we're here for, and its readiness is potent.
It is an auspicious time to begin new journeys, letting go of ways that no longer serve us, making space for our deepest resonance to come forward, holding each other as midwives for this sacred birthing.
One way that I am supporting this is with a bi-monthly gathering for meditation, reflection and enquiry. The first session on February 10th is with Insight Yoga and open to all, so you are welcome to join for just this one alone (for details see the satsang page).
From then until May 19th we will be exploring an interpretation of the Dharma that is profoundly feminine: embodied, sensual, nurturing and in ongoing relationship with our greatest teacher, everyday life.
My intention for this journey is to walk with you along a feminine path of awakening that points us back again and again to the kernel of growth and expansion living within each moment. What this means in practice is learning to recognise where we go to war and remembering the pointers that return us to presence. It is always a journey that takes us from the reactivity and defence of mental narrative to a transformative alchemy that occurs when we meet whatever is here with love.
Over the seven bi-monthly sessions together we will follow a path that has revealed itself to me as I have written my book (or rather, as my book has written me!) We will loosely explore along these lines:
Pause
Breathe
Connect
Unhook
Soften
Feel
Respond
Ultimately, each of the practices are inseparable from the others, but by bringing our attention to every aspect we deepen our capacity to embody them all. In the two weeks in between each gathering, I will invite you to explore again and again how the invitation of these practices can be brought into daily life. Insight is powerful to liberate the mind, but without the application of insight to this moment of our vulnerable humanness, there is no alchemy. It is through meeting the friction of life that our soul's radiance shines ever more brightly.
Wishing you a blessed, supported and smooth gestation and birthing into the new!
This evening marks the beginning of Imbolc, the Celtic festival that signals the start of Spring. The original word Imbolg means "in the belly". We are at the threshold of the stirring of new life, but like the gentle curve of a new pregnancy, it's barely visible. Felt and known rather than seen, it is the promise of renewal, of hidden potential, of an awakening stirring. Here in London, I can smell, hear and feel something of the promise of Spring, helping me to remember the inevitable return of the light, even whilst knowing that the coldest month still lies ahead.
There is, as always, a parallel journey within. There are certainly many stirrings of birth inside me, seeds that have been germinating since the summer solstice (and of course beyond), that now are beginning to come into form. I can already feel what is emerging and yet I know there is an ongoing journey of embodiment that lies ahead. This is what we're here for, and its readiness is potent.
It is an auspicious time to begin new journeys, letting go of ways that no longer serve us, making space for our deepest resonance to come forward, holding each other as midwives for this sacred birthing.
One way that I am supporting this is with a bi-monthly gathering for meditation, reflection and enquiry. The first session on February 10th is with Insight Yoga and open to all, so you are welcome to join for just this one alone (for details see the satsang page).
From then until May 19th we will be exploring an interpretation of the Dharma that is profoundly feminine: embodied, sensual, nurturing and in ongoing relationship with our greatest teacher, everyday life.
My intention for this journey is to walk with you along a feminine path of awakening that points us back again and again to the kernel of growth and expansion living within each moment. What this means in practice is learning to recognise where we go to war and remembering the pointers that return us to presence. It is always a journey that takes us from the reactivity and defence of mental narrative to a transformative alchemy that occurs when we meet whatever is here with love.
Over the seven bi-monthly sessions together we will follow a path that has revealed itself to me as I have written my book (or rather, as my book has written me!) We will loosely explore along these lines:
Pause
Breathe
Connect
Unhook
Soften
Feel
Respond
Ultimately, each of the practices are inseparable from the others, but by bringing our attention to every aspect we deepen our capacity to embody them all. In the two weeks in between each gathering, I will invite you to explore again and again how the invitation of these practices can be brought into daily life. Insight is powerful to liberate the mind, but without the application of insight to this moment of our vulnerable humanness, there is no alchemy. It is through meeting the friction of life that our soul's radiance shines ever more brightly.
Wishing you a blessed, supported and smooth gestation and birthing into the new!
What if love were just the beginning?
In this in between space,
having peeled back heavy cloaks of belief, unhooked the guy ropes that attach me to the safety of others, dropped the veils of who I am and what I do…
In this in between space,
having shed so many reference points, watched the ways I define myself fall away, allowed the people I cling to for guidance to walk their paths in peace…
In this in between space I find two faithful friends side by side.
A radiance so transparent, like an oval of polished glass through which light dances in fractals, like a raindrop suspended in space.
And fear, like I have never known it before.
I float here, suspended.
So afraid to go forward, so afraid to go back. Afraid of exposure, afraid to be seen, afraid the familiar opaqueness will return with every abrasion and knock received.
So I stay, right here, in this space in between,
with nowhere to go and nothing to do but honour the fear, because how many times have we been slain for our beauty, our brightness, our light?
In this space in between,
where fear is allowed, each thread of its spidery web drenched in a love like honey-kissed sunlight, where grief is invited from shadowy places the mind can’t begin to understand…
In this space in between,
I remember that something in me has blossomed and grown like never before, that something in the world has emerged that is new: a rootedness, a ripeness, calling radical vulnerability to emerge.
Slowly, in time, I release another cord that’s as thick as my grasping, but this one’s attached to a shield of defending. Gradually opening the doors of protection. Exposing this radiance, exposing this fear.
Slowly, in time, I remember life's bruises are nudging me back to the centre. That war is a choice which I choose not to play, that karma is friction: with no rough edges there can be no heat.
When the time is right I will invite all that I am to enter this silvery formlessness. A sacred place where true union is found: when everything is given there’s nothing to lose.
And then I'm sent spinning! Because in this new space there is no arrival: there is no completion. This heart’s radiance is no longer the goal, but just the beginning of something new.
And the question smiles like a new dawn rising:
What if love were just the beginning?
Really, what if love were just the beginning?
In this in between space,
having peeled back heavy cloaks of belief, unhooked the guy ropes that attach me to the safety of others, dropped the veils of who I am and what I do…
In this in between space,
having shed so many reference points, watched the ways I define myself fall away, allowed the people I cling to for guidance to walk their paths in peace…
In this in between space I find two faithful friends side by side.
A radiance so transparent, like an oval of polished glass through which light dances in fractals, like a raindrop suspended in space.
And fear, like I have never known it before.
I float here, suspended.
So afraid to go forward, so afraid to go back. Afraid of exposure, afraid to be seen, afraid the familiar opaqueness will return with every abrasion and knock received.
So I stay, right here, in this space in between,
with nowhere to go and nothing to do but honour the fear, because how many times have we been slain for our beauty, our brightness, our light?
In this space in between,
where fear is allowed, each thread of its spidery web drenched in a love like honey-kissed sunlight, where grief is invited from shadowy places the mind can’t begin to understand…
In this space in between,
I remember that something in me has blossomed and grown like never before, that something in the world has emerged that is new: a rootedness, a ripeness, calling radical vulnerability to emerge.
Slowly, in time, I release another cord that’s as thick as my grasping, but this one’s attached to a shield of defending. Gradually opening the doors of protection. Exposing this radiance, exposing this fear.
Slowly, in time, I remember life's bruises are nudging me back to the centre. That war is a choice which I choose not to play, that karma is friction: with no rough edges there can be no heat.
When the time is right I will invite all that I am to enter this silvery formlessness. A sacred place where true union is found: when everything is given there’s nothing to lose.
And then I'm sent spinning! Because in this new space there is no arrival: there is no completion. This heart’s radiance is no longer the goal, but just the beginning of something new.
And the question smiles like a new dawn rising:
What if love were just the beginning?
Really, what if love were just the beginning?
Gratitude and Beauty
There is a lot of reason for fear and anger in the world at the moment. It is more important than ever that we don't turn away and that we respond, not react.
When I wake up in the morning, I remember what I'm grateful for. I walk outside barefoot and notice beauty. I breathe deeply and feel what’s here.
NOT to bypass fear and anger, but to meet them directly from the only place that is able to embrace them. To recognise, allow and honour them with a regulated nervous system.
So that I may act FOR fear and anger, from wisdom and compassion.
Rather than FROM fear and anger, for the narratives of fight, flight, freeze, blame and shame.
This is a time to choose: which seeds do we want to continue to grow in the world? Whatever we nurture, blossoms.
There is a lot of reason for fear and anger in the world at the moment. It is more important than ever that we don't turn away and that we respond, not react.
When I wake up in the morning, I remember what I'm grateful for. I walk outside barefoot and notice beauty. I breathe deeply and feel what’s here.
NOT to bypass fear and anger, but to meet them directly from the only place that is able to embrace them. To recognise, allow and honour them with a regulated nervous system.
So that I may act FOR fear and anger, from wisdom and compassion.
Rather than FROM fear and anger, for the narratives of fight, flight, freeze, blame and shame.
This is a time to choose: which seeds do we want to continue to grow in the world? Whatever we nurture, blossoms.
And so a new year is born...
I know so many of you have suffered this year. I bow to your commitment, integrity, adaptability, courage and kindness as you have navigated it all. The space that covid took me into demanded that I also find the courage to truly meet my darkest demons in the first half of the year. I have never surrendered so deeply and fully into letting go... I feel proud of us all.
There is something else that has been growing in me alongside this descent, and I hope some of you have felt it too? It feels like deep joy and a new sense of freedom, untouched by the turmoil around. It has been filling me with awe and wonder, and keeps tugging me back, inviting me to grow from and into beauty too.
We have been learning through suffering for so many years, meeting and befriending reactivity and fear. And now I keep hearing the invitation to open more deeply to our sensuous, creative natures. To remember this life as a celebration of beauty, embodiment and pleasure as well. I feel we are here now not only to embrace and release the deep patterns of suffering that have directed us from unseen places within, but also to re-seed the feminine lines of the Earth that remind us to walk in love. Both divine and very human, all at the same time.
Knowing how hard these times have been, and continue to be for so many, I found myself holding back from saying this at first. Thinking, am I justified to feel the daily depth of joy and wonder that I do? From the frosty grass under bare feet in the morning, to moments of sweetness, connection and presence that scatter through the day. And then I remember that earlier last year I found myself wondering, am I justified to allow and honour the depth of pain that's here, without getting busy doing more important things?
I’ve heard it said that great clarity often comes in moments of Great Suffering and Great Love. Yet it is in our willing integration of these times of intensity that allows a gradual embodiment of the light we perceive in such moments of intensity. My nature is at home in intensity and transformation, so perhaps it is no surprise that I find myself bowing in gratitude to the year that brought these elements together so utterly? Above all, it was a year that taught me to trust in something so much bigger than my obsessions, fears and judgements. Teaching me to trust in our individual and collective gifts and purpose, as I recognise how much we are always supported to embody what we ask for, even if this is far from what we think we want.
I know it won’t be easy, but I’m excited for the mystery of 2021...
I know so many of you have suffered this year. I bow to your commitment, integrity, adaptability, courage and kindness as you have navigated it all. The space that covid took me into demanded that I also find the courage to truly meet my darkest demons in the first half of the year. I have never surrendered so deeply and fully into letting go... I feel proud of us all.
There is something else that has been growing in me alongside this descent, and I hope some of you have felt it too? It feels like deep joy and a new sense of freedom, untouched by the turmoil around. It has been filling me with awe and wonder, and keeps tugging me back, inviting me to grow from and into beauty too.
We have been learning through suffering for so many years, meeting and befriending reactivity and fear. And now I keep hearing the invitation to open more deeply to our sensuous, creative natures. To remember this life as a celebration of beauty, embodiment and pleasure as well. I feel we are here now not only to embrace and release the deep patterns of suffering that have directed us from unseen places within, but also to re-seed the feminine lines of the Earth that remind us to walk in love. Both divine and very human, all at the same time.
Knowing how hard these times have been, and continue to be for so many, I found myself holding back from saying this at first. Thinking, am I justified to feel the daily depth of joy and wonder that I do? From the frosty grass under bare feet in the morning, to moments of sweetness, connection and presence that scatter through the day. And then I remember that earlier last year I found myself wondering, am I justified to allow and honour the depth of pain that's here, without getting busy doing more important things?
I’ve heard it said that great clarity often comes in moments of Great Suffering and Great Love. Yet it is in our willing integration of these times of intensity that allows a gradual embodiment of the light we perceive in such moments of intensity. My nature is at home in intensity and transformation, so perhaps it is no surprise that I find myself bowing in gratitude to the year that brought these elements together so utterly? Above all, it was a year that taught me to trust in something so much bigger than my obsessions, fears and judgements. Teaching me to trust in our individual and collective gifts and purpose, as I recognise how much we are always supported to embody what we ask for, even if this is far from what we think we want.
I know it won’t be easy, but I’m excited for the mystery of 2021...
Living our Dharma
Whatever you are here to offer is polished in the fire of life until it shines.
If you are here to be a prophet or messenger, you will find yourself learning to lovingly meet the limitations of what you are able to perceive and hear first. Only then will you know how to share authentic truth with others in service of love.
If you are here to heal the heart, you will learn to lovingly meet all the places in your own heart that feel broken first. Only then will you be able to guide others into that terrain with wisdom and compassion.
If you are here to empower, you will lovingly learn to meet your own lack of self esteem and distortions of power first. Only then will you be able to show others the empowerment that already exists within love without abusing it.
If you are here to guide others, you will be guided by life to meet your own arrogance with humility first. Only then will you be able to recognise the arrogance in others with compassion and know the fulfilment of service.
It is how we meet this moment, just as it is, that transforms our experience of it. It is how we experience this moment that informs our response to it.
When we allow what is here to grow something new inside us through the friction and heat of life... and when we offer that up without knowing what will happen next... we find ourselves living our dharma.
Whatever you are here to offer is polished in the fire of life until it shines.
If you are here to be a prophet or messenger, you will find yourself learning to lovingly meet the limitations of what you are able to perceive and hear first. Only then will you know how to share authentic truth with others in service of love.
If you are here to heal the heart, you will learn to lovingly meet all the places in your own heart that feel broken first. Only then will you be able to guide others into that terrain with wisdom and compassion.
If you are here to empower, you will lovingly learn to meet your own lack of self esteem and distortions of power first. Only then will you be able to show others the empowerment that already exists within love without abusing it.
If you are here to guide others, you will be guided by life to meet your own arrogance with humility first. Only then will you be able to recognise the arrogance in others with compassion and know the fulfilment of service.
It is how we meet this moment, just as it is, that transforms our experience of it. It is how we experience this moment that informs our response to it.
When we allow what is here to grow something new inside us through the friction and heat of life... and when we offer that up without knowing what will happen next... we find ourselves living our dharma.
Annemijn
There are moments when everything freezes.
When we met the first time, your smile opened me up.
I recognised your eyes searching for more
our toes in the dark waters of Seaford at night
dancing wild together at the end of the week
believing the bright new beginnings we’d found.
You came again next summer
and lay on my lawn speaking of love
wide eyed in hope, alive in our innocence
both of us spinning with stars in our eyes
afraid of our own hearts expanding.
“Wherever you go, there you are!”
I would say as you restlessly wandered.
But I still didn’t know how much you were hurting.
You came on retreat and I gave all that I had
but I still couldn’t stop you from leaving.
Last time we spoke you told me of the room.
It’s inside your head with no doors and no windows.
With no way to escape, you were locked there, you said.
I gave you some tips, tools, numbers, a list of to-dos.
But I left it to you to call me back. When you’re ready, I said.
Yes, I had long-tail covid, my own system re-wiring.
the whole world turned upside down, my mind wiped
so clear I even forgot to claim my own grants.
But I never ever again want to leave a friend in need alone,
however hard my struggle, confused my heart, or lost my mind.
The tulips you gave me lie dormant in the garage
and I’ll breathe them to life, give them back to the earth.
They’ll remind me each Spring with their sunshiny smiles
that nothing is ever more precious in this beautiful world
than the bright sparks that touch our hearts with butterfly wings.
As they pass on through to the other side.
There are moments when everything freezes.
When we met the first time, your smile opened me up.
I recognised your eyes searching for more
our toes in the dark waters of Seaford at night
dancing wild together at the end of the week
believing the bright new beginnings we’d found.
You came again next summer
and lay on my lawn speaking of love
wide eyed in hope, alive in our innocence
both of us spinning with stars in our eyes
afraid of our own hearts expanding.
“Wherever you go, there you are!”
I would say as you restlessly wandered.
But I still didn’t know how much you were hurting.
You came on retreat and I gave all that I had
but I still couldn’t stop you from leaving.
Last time we spoke you told me of the room.
It’s inside your head with no doors and no windows.
With no way to escape, you were locked there, you said.
I gave you some tips, tools, numbers, a list of to-dos.
But I left it to you to call me back. When you’re ready, I said.
Yes, I had long-tail covid, my own system re-wiring.
the whole world turned upside down, my mind wiped
so clear I even forgot to claim my own grants.
But I never ever again want to leave a friend in need alone,
however hard my struggle, confused my heart, or lost my mind.
The tulips you gave me lie dormant in the garage
and I’ll breathe them to life, give them back to the earth.
They’ll remind me each Spring with their sunshiny smiles
that nothing is ever more precious in this beautiful world
than the bright sparks that touch our hearts with butterfly wings.
As they pass on through to the other side.
Lakota Code of Ethics
Self responsibility for the embodiment of love is the only way we will come to live beyond war.
For as long as we perpetuate the movement to look for evil outside of ourselves, we perpetuate war. Asking others to be in self responsibility is called blame. Telling others they are not able to love shows us our own limitations in love.
There is much repair as we move through this global birth canal, but it is our own repair and our own birthing that births the whole. It is a time to look deep within with unwavering honesty and unconditional love. All mistakes can be forgiven.
********
1. Rise with the sun to pray. Pray alone. Pray often. The Great Spirit will listen, if you only speak.
2. Be tolerant of those who are lost on their path. Ignorance, conceit, anger, jealousy - and greed stem from a lost soul. Pray that they will find guidance.
3. Search for yourself, by yourself. Do not allow others to make your path for you. It is your road, and yours alone. Others may walk it with you, but no one can walk it for you.
4. Treat the guests in your home with much consideration. Serve them the best food, give them the best bed and treat them with respect and honor.
5. Do not take what is not yours whether from a person, a community, the wilderness or from a culture. It was not earned nor given. It is not yours.
6. Respect all things that are placed upon this earth - whether it be people or plant.
7. Honor other people's thoughts, wishes and words. Never interrupt another or mock or rudely mimic them. Allow each person the right to personal expression.
8. Never speak of others in a bad way. The negative energy that you put out into the universe will multiply when it returns to you.
9. All persons make mistakes. And all mistakes can be forgiven.
10. Bad thoughts cause illness of the mind, body and spirit. Practice optimism.
11. Nature is not FOR us, it is a PART of us. They are part of your worldly family.
12. Children are the seeds of our future. Plant love in their hearts and water them with wisdom and life's lessons. When they are grown, give them space to grow.
13. Avoid hurting the hearts of others. The poison of your pain will return to you.
14. Be truthful at all times. Honesty is the test of one's will within this universe.
15. Keep yourself balanced. Your Mental self, Spiritual self, Emotional self, and Physical self - all need to be strong, pure and healthy. Work out the body to strengthen the mind. Grow rich in spirit to cure emotional ails.
16. Make conscious decisions as to who you will be and how you will react. Be responsible for your own actions.
17. Respect the privacy and personal space of others. Do not touch the personal property of others - especially sacred and religious objects. This is forbidden.
18. Be true to yourself first. You cannot nurture and help others if you cannot nurture and help yourself first.
19. Respect others' religious beliefs. Do not force your belief on others.
20. Share your good fortune with others.
Self responsibility for the embodiment of love is the only way we will come to live beyond war.
For as long as we perpetuate the movement to look for evil outside of ourselves, we perpetuate war. Asking others to be in self responsibility is called blame. Telling others they are not able to love shows us our own limitations in love.
There is much repair as we move through this global birth canal, but it is our own repair and our own birthing that births the whole. It is a time to look deep within with unwavering honesty and unconditional love. All mistakes can be forgiven.
********
1. Rise with the sun to pray. Pray alone. Pray often. The Great Spirit will listen, if you only speak.
2. Be tolerant of those who are lost on their path. Ignorance, conceit, anger, jealousy - and greed stem from a lost soul. Pray that they will find guidance.
3. Search for yourself, by yourself. Do not allow others to make your path for you. It is your road, and yours alone. Others may walk it with you, but no one can walk it for you.
4. Treat the guests in your home with much consideration. Serve them the best food, give them the best bed and treat them with respect and honor.
5. Do not take what is not yours whether from a person, a community, the wilderness or from a culture. It was not earned nor given. It is not yours.
6. Respect all things that are placed upon this earth - whether it be people or plant.
7. Honor other people's thoughts, wishes and words. Never interrupt another or mock or rudely mimic them. Allow each person the right to personal expression.
8. Never speak of others in a bad way. The negative energy that you put out into the universe will multiply when it returns to you.
9. All persons make mistakes. And all mistakes can be forgiven.
10. Bad thoughts cause illness of the mind, body and spirit. Practice optimism.
11. Nature is not FOR us, it is a PART of us. They are part of your worldly family.
12. Children are the seeds of our future. Plant love in their hearts and water them with wisdom and life's lessons. When they are grown, give them space to grow.
13. Avoid hurting the hearts of others. The poison of your pain will return to you.
14. Be truthful at all times. Honesty is the test of one's will within this universe.
15. Keep yourself balanced. Your Mental self, Spiritual self, Emotional self, and Physical self - all need to be strong, pure and healthy. Work out the body to strengthen the mind. Grow rich in spirit to cure emotional ails.
16. Make conscious decisions as to who you will be and how you will react. Be responsible for your own actions.
17. Respect the privacy and personal space of others. Do not touch the personal property of others - especially sacred and religious objects. This is forbidden.
18. Be true to yourself first. You cannot nurture and help others if you cannot nurture and help yourself first.
19. Respect others' religious beliefs. Do not force your belief on others.
20. Share your good fortune with others.
Humility
The more we grow in courage and capacity, and the more we experience the liberation that arises from meeting life directly, the more we must continue to receive in humility as well. When Love moves into the limited form of this body, bound by space and time and with perception blinkered by muffled senses, the soul is given the opportunity to grow in compassion. This is an essential quality if we are to embody love in form.
The word compassion derives from the Latin root compati, and literally means to suffer with. We more often associate compassion as something we feel towards others, but it is only through suffering with ourselves first that sympathy towards others is transformed into empathy. It is only when we open ourselves to experience the full spectrum of emotion offered to us by life, learning over time to remain present and loving in the face of it all, that we can genuinely know that experience when it arises in another person. In knowing it, we can know them too, and hold them as we once learnt to hold ourselves.
Compassion matters because it is founded in humility. When humility is twinned with wisdom, we understand the truth of being nothing and everything, simultaneously. We see the truth of reality without allowing the ego to hijack this truth and make it about Me, My insight and My power. Arrogance is the shadow of insight, and prevents our gifts from blossoming fully into wisdom. We see this expressed again and again by teachers, gurus and leaders with great gifts, who have not been willing to meet their own arrogance. It can become a trap that is hard to break free from because we start to use our own gifts to defend our arrogance. Using our insights to justify or mask other illusory beliefs we cling to, pointing to the deficiencies we see in others to avoid our own growth, or manipulating others with our power to bolster that power. The movement of this is unconscious, and as innocent as any other movement of reactivity and defence, but its impact can be much more violent. As we grow in capacity, we grow too in responsibility. Humility really matters.
Once we understand the importance of humility, we can see that entering this body deaf and blind to the truth of reality was not, in fact, an accident or curse. With these limited senses, unable to rely only on what we hear or see, it’s an invitation to grow through surrender into humility. To land in the recognition that we cannot do this alone. We literally need to empty ourselves of everything we think we know and believe, again and again, and return to a space of humble receptivity, in order to learn what we do not already know. In doing so, we will inevitably meet our own pride and arrogance, which, although painful, is a gift because it allows us to unblend and integrate these parts.
Life and the spirit realms support us with our own unique incarnational journeys: the lessons we have come to learn in this lifetime. The messages we receive do not always describe a definitive truth in the way the human mind perceives it. If our soul journey is to learn humility, then being gifted the voice of God, or access to ultimate truth, would only bolster our arrogance. Sometimes what we need to receive from our spirit guides are affirmations of our own arrogance, until life offers us another grand opportunity to surrender into humility. We learn to love from its seeming absence, which we meet first in ourselves.
When we recognise our own limitations, ask for guidance and support, and enter a space of not knowing, we grow simultaneously in humility and insight.
This is wisdom: the truth of love, known and held beyond arrogance and pride.
In the humility of wisdom, love moves with a kindness and forgiveness that no longer needs to prove itself, acquire something or defend anything. It’s a movement of love that sees us in our ignorance and suffering, and holds us tenderly there with reverence for the sacred journey of our own soul growth.
This is compassion: the movement of love, expressed in trust and without condition.
So we pause from our habits and reactivity, feel our breathing body, connect to the ground and nature around us, to each other and our guides and ancestors. As we do so we grow a stability and trust that allows us to open to an extraordinary depth of feeling without losing ourselves. And in this place of ever deepening sensitivity, we return to listening and receiving. Please hold me, please guide me, please show me what I do not yet see. We remember again and again that this Earth is a classroom with life our curriculum, and that we are following the twinned stars of truth and love as we journey into the unknown.
Truth reveals itself as complexity to defy our arrogance and demand that we return to humility each time we think we have found truth in one place alone. Love is the meeting of this truth with kindness and forgiveness. It liberates resentment, blame and shame, knowing itself to be already everywhere and free. Trusting, once again, that suffering is the fertile ground for compassion, which is love’s expression in form. Celebrating the possibility that we are here to learn to move love in form: here to receive so that we may discover how to respond.
The more we grow in courage and capacity, and the more we experience the liberation that arises from meeting life directly, the more we must continue to receive in humility as well. When Love moves into the limited form of this body, bound by space and time and with perception blinkered by muffled senses, the soul is given the opportunity to grow in compassion. This is an essential quality if we are to embody love in form.
The word compassion derives from the Latin root compati, and literally means to suffer with. We more often associate compassion as something we feel towards others, but it is only through suffering with ourselves first that sympathy towards others is transformed into empathy. It is only when we open ourselves to experience the full spectrum of emotion offered to us by life, learning over time to remain present and loving in the face of it all, that we can genuinely know that experience when it arises in another person. In knowing it, we can know them too, and hold them as we once learnt to hold ourselves.
Compassion matters because it is founded in humility. When humility is twinned with wisdom, we understand the truth of being nothing and everything, simultaneously. We see the truth of reality without allowing the ego to hijack this truth and make it about Me, My insight and My power. Arrogance is the shadow of insight, and prevents our gifts from blossoming fully into wisdom. We see this expressed again and again by teachers, gurus and leaders with great gifts, who have not been willing to meet their own arrogance. It can become a trap that is hard to break free from because we start to use our own gifts to defend our arrogance. Using our insights to justify or mask other illusory beliefs we cling to, pointing to the deficiencies we see in others to avoid our own growth, or manipulating others with our power to bolster that power. The movement of this is unconscious, and as innocent as any other movement of reactivity and defence, but its impact can be much more violent. As we grow in capacity, we grow too in responsibility. Humility really matters.
Once we understand the importance of humility, we can see that entering this body deaf and blind to the truth of reality was not, in fact, an accident or curse. With these limited senses, unable to rely only on what we hear or see, it’s an invitation to grow through surrender into humility. To land in the recognition that we cannot do this alone. We literally need to empty ourselves of everything we think we know and believe, again and again, and return to a space of humble receptivity, in order to learn what we do not already know. In doing so, we will inevitably meet our own pride and arrogance, which, although painful, is a gift because it allows us to unblend and integrate these parts.
Life and the spirit realms support us with our own unique incarnational journeys: the lessons we have come to learn in this lifetime. The messages we receive do not always describe a definitive truth in the way the human mind perceives it. If our soul journey is to learn humility, then being gifted the voice of God, or access to ultimate truth, would only bolster our arrogance. Sometimes what we need to receive from our spirit guides are affirmations of our own arrogance, until life offers us another grand opportunity to surrender into humility. We learn to love from its seeming absence, which we meet first in ourselves.
When we recognise our own limitations, ask for guidance and support, and enter a space of not knowing, we grow simultaneously in humility and insight.
This is wisdom: the truth of love, known and held beyond arrogance and pride.
In the humility of wisdom, love moves with a kindness and forgiveness that no longer needs to prove itself, acquire something or defend anything. It’s a movement of love that sees us in our ignorance and suffering, and holds us tenderly there with reverence for the sacred journey of our own soul growth.
This is compassion: the movement of love, expressed in trust and without condition.
So we pause from our habits and reactivity, feel our breathing body, connect to the ground and nature around us, to each other and our guides and ancestors. As we do so we grow a stability and trust that allows us to open to an extraordinary depth of feeling without losing ourselves. And in this place of ever deepening sensitivity, we return to listening and receiving. Please hold me, please guide me, please show me what I do not yet see. We remember again and again that this Earth is a classroom with life our curriculum, and that we are following the twinned stars of truth and love as we journey into the unknown.
Truth reveals itself as complexity to defy our arrogance and demand that we return to humility each time we think we have found truth in one place alone. Love is the meeting of this truth with kindness and forgiveness. It liberates resentment, blame and shame, knowing itself to be already everywhere and free. Trusting, once again, that suffering is the fertile ground for compassion, which is love’s expression in form. Celebrating the possibility that we are here to learn to move love in form: here to receive so that we may discover how to respond.
Living Beyond War
The question I feel most passionately about at the moment is not who is good or bad and what is right or wrong. It is, how can I live beyond war? I am asking myself how can I love, truly love, others whose beliefs and opinions I don’t share? I stand on the shoulders of giants with this reflection. Martin Luther King Jr. describes better than I can his embodied understanding of Jesus’ teachings of love: “Far from being the pious injunction of a Utopian dreamer, the command to love one’s enemy is an absolute necessity for our survival. Love even for enemies is the key to the solution of the problems of our world.” Nelson Mandela, referring to his respectful treatment of a cruel prison guard, said, “Minds that seek revenge, destroy states, while those that seek reconciliation build nations.” This isn’t just a pleasing addition to the real work of activism, but is the precursor to any true and lasting transformation.
The opportunities for this to become a lived experience for us all, rather than just a nice idea, present themselves every day. Forgiveness, humility and self responsibility are three great supports on the journey. Forgiving ourselves first when we notice judgement, blame or any other forms of ‘othering’ arise. And then in that space and softness, forgiving others for not seeing, feeling or perceiving in the ways that we do. We are inviting ourselves to forgive ignorance and arrogance, not the violent behaviours that arise out of them. Seeing that fear and separation based beliefs (ignorance) and the defence of those beliefs (arrogance) are things we all share to some degree. This is why humility always sits side by side with forgiveness.
There is a space of empathy that grows from forgiveness and humility which allows us to enter into complexity, and listen deeply there. This is the place where constructive action can arise, as we create boundaries to prevent further harm, whilst building bridges of communication and understanding to allow for healing. Again, this can easily become an idea in our minds, or something that those in positions of power have the responsibility to do while we talk about it! So the third support is self responsibility. For me, this means recognising that every movement of my heart and mind influences the collective in some way. And beginning where I am able to begin: with the people I love who I disagree with, and loving them regardless. Trusting in my capacity to expand from these baby steps to those who appear to have hurt me. And all the while aspiring to enquire deeply into their experience to understand the movements behind any violence perceived. While standing ever more strongly and passionately in my own intrinsic safety and knowing so that I am no longer entangled with others or complicit in their/our violence.
Living beyond war asks us to relax our ideas about ourselves and the world. These are often what we defend most arrogantly. When we have invested years in identifying with a particular story it can be challenging to let it go and invite in something new. At the same time, we are living in an era where we are increasingly witnessing the complexity of reality. Truth doesn’t fit neatly into any ‘side’ and cannot be packaged into a single story. Rather than arguing right and wrong, I am finding the age-old tenets of love to be the most valuable compass through complexity. I ask myself, does this belief, idea or action create harm? Is it implying that someone or something exists outside of love? Is it describing an old victim-perpetrator-saviour paradigm that makes someone the villain, and someone else the hero?
Can we instead sit steady, receptive and soft amidst the realities of political systems unravelling, exposures of corruption, greed, racism, sexism, homophobia and more, as darkness continues to come into the light? Doing what we can to bring balance in small or large ways, whilst recognising that there is no saviour, and no darkness that is separate from our own movements to go to war. It is my experience that as the light of being widens and brightens, it illuminates what had once been held in the shadows. This is both difficult and beautiful. Difficult because recognising, allowing and integrating these shadowy experiences is what liberates them. Beautiful because the expansion of light is an expansion of love, which is the greatest blessing any of us can possibly experience in this lifetime.
When we choose to do this together, the result is almost unimaginable. But my heart already knows and feels this new world: as Arundhati Roy said “On a quiet day, I can hear her breathing”. Let’s apply the sacred work of forgiveness, humility and self responsibility again and again, so that we may come to live beyond war, with all beings and this Earth held in equal respect and dignity.
The question I feel most passionately about at the moment is not who is good or bad and what is right or wrong. It is, how can I live beyond war? I am asking myself how can I love, truly love, others whose beliefs and opinions I don’t share? I stand on the shoulders of giants with this reflection. Martin Luther King Jr. describes better than I can his embodied understanding of Jesus’ teachings of love: “Far from being the pious injunction of a Utopian dreamer, the command to love one’s enemy is an absolute necessity for our survival. Love even for enemies is the key to the solution of the problems of our world.” Nelson Mandela, referring to his respectful treatment of a cruel prison guard, said, “Minds that seek revenge, destroy states, while those that seek reconciliation build nations.” This isn’t just a pleasing addition to the real work of activism, but is the precursor to any true and lasting transformation.
The opportunities for this to become a lived experience for us all, rather than just a nice idea, present themselves every day. Forgiveness, humility and self responsibility are three great supports on the journey. Forgiving ourselves first when we notice judgement, blame or any other forms of ‘othering’ arise. And then in that space and softness, forgiving others for not seeing, feeling or perceiving in the ways that we do. We are inviting ourselves to forgive ignorance and arrogance, not the violent behaviours that arise out of them. Seeing that fear and separation based beliefs (ignorance) and the defence of those beliefs (arrogance) are things we all share to some degree. This is why humility always sits side by side with forgiveness.
There is a space of empathy that grows from forgiveness and humility which allows us to enter into complexity, and listen deeply there. This is the place where constructive action can arise, as we create boundaries to prevent further harm, whilst building bridges of communication and understanding to allow for healing. Again, this can easily become an idea in our minds, or something that those in positions of power have the responsibility to do while we talk about it! So the third support is self responsibility. For me, this means recognising that every movement of my heart and mind influences the collective in some way. And beginning where I am able to begin: with the people I love who I disagree with, and loving them regardless. Trusting in my capacity to expand from these baby steps to those who appear to have hurt me. And all the while aspiring to enquire deeply into their experience to understand the movements behind any violence perceived. While standing ever more strongly and passionately in my own intrinsic safety and knowing so that I am no longer entangled with others or complicit in their/our violence.
Living beyond war asks us to relax our ideas about ourselves and the world. These are often what we defend most arrogantly. When we have invested years in identifying with a particular story it can be challenging to let it go and invite in something new. At the same time, we are living in an era where we are increasingly witnessing the complexity of reality. Truth doesn’t fit neatly into any ‘side’ and cannot be packaged into a single story. Rather than arguing right and wrong, I am finding the age-old tenets of love to be the most valuable compass through complexity. I ask myself, does this belief, idea or action create harm? Is it implying that someone or something exists outside of love? Is it describing an old victim-perpetrator-saviour paradigm that makes someone the villain, and someone else the hero?
Can we instead sit steady, receptive and soft amidst the realities of political systems unravelling, exposures of corruption, greed, racism, sexism, homophobia and more, as darkness continues to come into the light? Doing what we can to bring balance in small or large ways, whilst recognising that there is no saviour, and no darkness that is separate from our own movements to go to war. It is my experience that as the light of being widens and brightens, it illuminates what had once been held in the shadows. This is both difficult and beautiful. Difficult because recognising, allowing and integrating these shadowy experiences is what liberates them. Beautiful because the expansion of light is an expansion of love, which is the greatest blessing any of us can possibly experience in this lifetime.
When we choose to do this together, the result is almost unimaginable. But my heart already knows and feels this new world: as Arundhati Roy said “On a quiet day, I can hear her breathing”. Let’s apply the sacred work of forgiveness, humility and self responsibility again and again, so that we may come to live beyond war, with all beings and this Earth held in equal respect and dignity.
Update and Love
Beautiful friends,
I hope you are all well, and finding your own ways through this time of great change and growth. After a long time of silence I thought I would share a little of where I am at and what I am doing, since I have received messages from some of you wondering when I am returning to the classes I was teaching before.
September is always a time of new beginnings for me, and this year perhaps more than ever. My youngest two children are genuinely excited to be finally returning to their friends and school, and my eldest is even more excited to be about to start university. As some of you know this means so much to him, and all of us, after the challenging journey he has been on for the last 8 years. I can appreciate how much depth those challenges have given him now, and I see how this year, so far, has felt the same for me. A tsunami of change and transformation emerging from diving deeper than ever before into places I had been hiding from. I look back with gratitude (now!) that I became sick with Covid in early March, and found myself experiencing a level of surrender to something bigger than me that I hadn’t come close to before. It feels like all my work with body, mind, heart and spirit: the retreats in silence, stillness, movement, high mountains and plant medicine: all of it had been preparing me for this! The early and long lasting illness made sure that I couldn’t follow what would have been my default path of adapting all that had been my life to an online format and continuing as I was before. Instead I entered my own deep retreat time, and am discovering a new level of trust in the healing path of life.
I have been learning to listen more deeply, and the invitation to write a book has been consistent for a while, and at times even forceful! Embarking on this has been yet another practice in surrender. Letting the book reveal itself to me through my own visceral experience and knowing, rather than through the mind in the ways I had learnt as a child. If I were an actor, I would definitely be a method actor in relation to my writing and teaching! Everything is being taught to me through the direct experience of life, in sometimes obvious and often subtle ways. And it is this very process that I realise I am being called to share. The invitation to recognise that this precious Earth is our classroom, and life is our curriculum. It’s turning into a guidebook for playing the game of life, and so far is formulating itself in this way: a map to show the lay of the land, a path we can take to traverse the map, the tools to help us along this path, the practice of applying these tools in life, and finally the gifts that emerge within us (and as us) as we journey.
It has been such a powerful undertaking for me so far. Writing has always been a personal process: one of supporting my own insight or heart knowing to come into greater embodiment. A few years ago, a friend who knew me well and could see where I wasn’t embodying everything I was sharing, would lovingly challenge me to be more authentic and real with my words. But I have always known that what I write is always a deeply authentic and real expression of that moment in time for me, however flawed it may appear from the outside. I do not write to try to be somebody, but to allow the words to guide me into living from their knowing. Writing feels like a conversation from my wisdom nature to my heart, translated into form through words, to be understood by the mind… so that this knowing can be embodied and consciously walked into life. The words are often simple, but to live them is the real challenge! So they act as a lighthouse and reminder while my own understanding refines and deepens. I am becoming more familiar with the rhythm of this process of birthing: the pressure of something emerging within (stimulated by a perfection of triggers from life itself), the self doubt, judgement and criticism that often arises in the in-between moments of uncertainty, the relief and immersion as what had been felt begins to take form, and the continued deepening of trust and surrender throughout.
So to those of you who have asked me when life might look like it used to, I’m afraid I have no idea when, or if, it will! But I do know that what I am doing right now will support me in being able to support you with much greater clarity and depth when the time is right. I feel like I am bringing together the many strands of my own experience into something more tangible for me at least. And have hope and trust that this growing clarity in me will allow me to be of greater support to the world as well as it emerges.
Finally, I want to say that even if I’m quiet for a while, I’m still very much here! So do please reach out to me at any time if you feel I might be able to offer any love and support.
I’m sending you my love and support right now too! I hope you can feel it.
Beautiful friends,
I hope you are all well, and finding your own ways through this time of great change and growth. After a long time of silence I thought I would share a little of where I am at and what I am doing, since I have received messages from some of you wondering when I am returning to the classes I was teaching before.
September is always a time of new beginnings for me, and this year perhaps more than ever. My youngest two children are genuinely excited to be finally returning to their friends and school, and my eldest is even more excited to be about to start university. As some of you know this means so much to him, and all of us, after the challenging journey he has been on for the last 8 years. I can appreciate how much depth those challenges have given him now, and I see how this year, so far, has felt the same for me. A tsunami of change and transformation emerging from diving deeper than ever before into places I had been hiding from. I look back with gratitude (now!) that I became sick with Covid in early March, and found myself experiencing a level of surrender to something bigger than me that I hadn’t come close to before. It feels like all my work with body, mind, heart and spirit: the retreats in silence, stillness, movement, high mountains and plant medicine: all of it had been preparing me for this! The early and long lasting illness made sure that I couldn’t follow what would have been my default path of adapting all that had been my life to an online format and continuing as I was before. Instead I entered my own deep retreat time, and am discovering a new level of trust in the healing path of life.
I have been learning to listen more deeply, and the invitation to write a book has been consistent for a while, and at times even forceful! Embarking on this has been yet another practice in surrender. Letting the book reveal itself to me through my own visceral experience and knowing, rather than through the mind in the ways I had learnt as a child. If I were an actor, I would definitely be a method actor in relation to my writing and teaching! Everything is being taught to me through the direct experience of life, in sometimes obvious and often subtle ways. And it is this very process that I realise I am being called to share. The invitation to recognise that this precious Earth is our classroom, and life is our curriculum. It’s turning into a guidebook for playing the game of life, and so far is formulating itself in this way: a map to show the lay of the land, a path we can take to traverse the map, the tools to help us along this path, the practice of applying these tools in life, and finally the gifts that emerge within us (and as us) as we journey.
It has been such a powerful undertaking for me so far. Writing has always been a personal process: one of supporting my own insight or heart knowing to come into greater embodiment. A few years ago, a friend who knew me well and could see where I wasn’t embodying everything I was sharing, would lovingly challenge me to be more authentic and real with my words. But I have always known that what I write is always a deeply authentic and real expression of that moment in time for me, however flawed it may appear from the outside. I do not write to try to be somebody, but to allow the words to guide me into living from their knowing. Writing feels like a conversation from my wisdom nature to my heart, translated into form through words, to be understood by the mind… so that this knowing can be embodied and consciously walked into life. The words are often simple, but to live them is the real challenge! So they act as a lighthouse and reminder while my own understanding refines and deepens. I am becoming more familiar with the rhythm of this process of birthing: the pressure of something emerging within (stimulated by a perfection of triggers from life itself), the self doubt, judgement and criticism that often arises in the in-between moments of uncertainty, the relief and immersion as what had been felt begins to take form, and the continued deepening of trust and surrender throughout.
So to those of you who have asked me when life might look like it used to, I’m afraid I have no idea when, or if, it will! But I do know that what I am doing right now will support me in being able to support you with much greater clarity and depth when the time is right. I feel like I am bringing together the many strands of my own experience into something more tangible for me at least. And have hope and trust that this growing clarity in me will allow me to be of greater support to the world as well as it emerges.
Finally, I want to say that even if I’m quiet for a while, I’m still very much here! So do please reach out to me at any time if you feel I might be able to offer any love and support.
I’m sending you my love and support right now too! I hope you can feel it.
New Seed
Yesterday a wise elder said to me “When we are young we must go to the coalface. But there comes a time in our life when we can invite the coal to come to us.” She was inviting me to enter her circle of grandmothers; to apprentice for the next stage in my own birthing.
Two weeks ago, a new seed was planted in my womb, asking to grow into a book. I have heard this whisper for a while now, but knew it wouldn’t come about in the ways I learnt when I was young. This isn’t an offering that will arise from striving, willpower or discipline alone. I'm feeling the call to a whole new level of trust and surrender as this new life grows within me.
As ever, to trust and surrender means meeting the voices of not enough still living inside me. Not good enough, loved enough, recognised, validated, accomplished enough. The stories that have been driving an old striving from the shadows. No degree of fame or recognition would ever satisfy their diligence. They are not looking for satisfaction. The stories are protectors of a young self who felt separate from source, and won’t tire until she's lovingly returned home.
I’m watching and listening to the trees as they teach me about presence. They don't judge the thickness of their trunk or the twist of their branches. They aren’t looking to the canopies around them to emulate what's acceptable to the birds. I sit and marvel at the perfect imperfection of each part of this cacophony of life before me. Recognising the uniqueness of each individual offering to the mystery of the whole.
Nature invites the possibility that this new seed has been planted here because the conditions are right for something that wants to be born. I'm making space on my lap for the voices that strive for validation or are thirsty for learning, and letting them rest for now. Yesterday my wise friend's eyes smiled as she said “There comes a time when we can reap the harvest of the seeds that were sown and the work that was done. At that time, the universe is asking us to receive her blessings.”
Deep bow to that. Aho. May it be so.
Yesterday a wise elder said to me “When we are young we must go to the coalface. But there comes a time in our life when we can invite the coal to come to us.” She was inviting me to enter her circle of grandmothers; to apprentice for the next stage in my own birthing.
Two weeks ago, a new seed was planted in my womb, asking to grow into a book. I have heard this whisper for a while now, but knew it wouldn’t come about in the ways I learnt when I was young. This isn’t an offering that will arise from striving, willpower or discipline alone. I'm feeling the call to a whole new level of trust and surrender as this new life grows within me.
As ever, to trust and surrender means meeting the voices of not enough still living inside me. Not good enough, loved enough, recognised, validated, accomplished enough. The stories that have been driving an old striving from the shadows. No degree of fame or recognition would ever satisfy their diligence. They are not looking for satisfaction. The stories are protectors of a young self who felt separate from source, and won’t tire until she's lovingly returned home.
I’m watching and listening to the trees as they teach me about presence. They don't judge the thickness of their trunk or the twist of their branches. They aren’t looking to the canopies around them to emulate what's acceptable to the birds. I sit and marvel at the perfect imperfection of each part of this cacophony of life before me. Recognising the uniqueness of each individual offering to the mystery of the whole.
Nature invites the possibility that this new seed has been planted here because the conditions are right for something that wants to be born. I'm making space on my lap for the voices that strive for validation or are thirsty for learning, and letting them rest for now. Yesterday my wise friend's eyes smiled as she said “There comes a time when we can reap the harvest of the seeds that were sown and the work that was done. At that time, the universe is asking us to receive her blessings.”
Deep bow to that. Aho. May it be so.
The Spiral of Love
With so much change and uncertainty, it may be helpful to remember that evolution is an ongoing process of birth and death that moves in the form of a spiral. Many ancient prophecies, including the Vedas of Northern India, and the Mayan and Incan traditions of South America, describe how humanity grows through spirals of 26,000 years, from light into darkness and back into light. It’s a journey that invites an evolution of consciousness with ever greater capacity to hold more light as we emerge from each cycle of darkness.
The Mayans, Incas, Hopi, Cherokee and many more indigenous cultures have prophesied this to be the time of the next great overturning from darkness into light. The completion of a 26,000 year cycle and the beginning of a new one. What we are experiencing as environmental, political and economic collapse is also a new beginning. Any transformation that births something new can only begin when something old falls apart. It is the very pain of this dissolution that calls us to listen more deeply and respond from a new place within us. Remember that the contractions, or surges, of labour are the very thing that make birth possible.
How each of us responds to the challenges presented to us in these times will determine the degree of suffering experienced, the outcome of our own birth, and the health of the new collective being born. Indigenous wisdom reminds us that in this particular cycle a new paradigm is being birthed from the womb of the feminine principle within us. This feminine principle invites us to descend into the shadowy places within ourselves and the collective to bring them into the light. When illumination and wisdom are rooted in unity and interconnectedness, unconditional love is born embodied in form.
It is through our active participation in this process of descent and dissolution that we allow something new to be born, both individually and collectively. A prophecy of the Andean-Incan Holy Mountain tradition states that there will be those from the North that find the light from the darkness of their times. It is within the darkness that we find the light, not elsewhere. It is through meeting all that we have deemed unlovable with love, that love itself grows. Through recognising, allowing and including ever more conditions, that we embody unconditionality. It is through bringing the refined teachings from mountains, jungles and desert caves into the cauldron of relationship and everyday interface that we become truly free. A beautiful, messy, sacred and profane journey of returning to a wholeness that has always been here, hidden in plain sight.
Just as humanity evolves by spiralling from light into darkness and back again, our individual journeys of growth follow the same pattern. It might appear that we enter the same terrain again and again, yet each time we meet what had been hidden with ever more subtlety. Each time we emerge back into a sense of wholeness and clarity, we literally hold more light and understanding, and with that more empathy and compassion for ourselves and others. We come again to meet the beliefs and emotions that still control us from the shadows, yet each time we hold a more unshakeable connection to awareness and love. As we no longer lose ourselves in what we once believed would drown us, we are able to re-parent these lost children of the heart and mind. Again and again.
The evolution of the individual and the collective is a process of both waking up and growing up simultaneously. Seeing what is true with ever more depth, and loving truth with ever fewer conditions, until unconditional love is who we know ourselves to be, and the only way we choose to manifest. It’s a journey that takes us from reactivity to receptivity, and from dependency to sovereignty. The vision of a world in which human beings are receptive and sovereign custodians of love continues to ignite in me the courage, tenacity and devotion that this work demands. Whatever is here in your beautiful heart, whatever you are struggling with in your life, my deepest wish is that you see this, too, as an invitation to love all that is emerging from the shadows with such trust and fearlessness, that nothing is left behind.
With so much change and uncertainty, it may be helpful to remember that evolution is an ongoing process of birth and death that moves in the form of a spiral. Many ancient prophecies, including the Vedas of Northern India, and the Mayan and Incan traditions of South America, describe how humanity grows through spirals of 26,000 years, from light into darkness and back into light. It’s a journey that invites an evolution of consciousness with ever greater capacity to hold more light as we emerge from each cycle of darkness.
The Mayans, Incas, Hopi, Cherokee and many more indigenous cultures have prophesied this to be the time of the next great overturning from darkness into light. The completion of a 26,000 year cycle and the beginning of a new one. What we are experiencing as environmental, political and economic collapse is also a new beginning. Any transformation that births something new can only begin when something old falls apart. It is the very pain of this dissolution that calls us to listen more deeply and respond from a new place within us. Remember that the contractions, or surges, of labour are the very thing that make birth possible.
How each of us responds to the challenges presented to us in these times will determine the degree of suffering experienced, the outcome of our own birth, and the health of the new collective being born. Indigenous wisdom reminds us that in this particular cycle a new paradigm is being birthed from the womb of the feminine principle within us. This feminine principle invites us to descend into the shadowy places within ourselves and the collective to bring them into the light. When illumination and wisdom are rooted in unity and interconnectedness, unconditional love is born embodied in form.
It is through our active participation in this process of descent and dissolution that we allow something new to be born, both individually and collectively. A prophecy of the Andean-Incan Holy Mountain tradition states that there will be those from the North that find the light from the darkness of their times. It is within the darkness that we find the light, not elsewhere. It is through meeting all that we have deemed unlovable with love, that love itself grows. Through recognising, allowing and including ever more conditions, that we embody unconditionality. It is through bringing the refined teachings from mountains, jungles and desert caves into the cauldron of relationship and everyday interface that we become truly free. A beautiful, messy, sacred and profane journey of returning to a wholeness that has always been here, hidden in plain sight.
Just as humanity evolves by spiralling from light into darkness and back again, our individual journeys of growth follow the same pattern. It might appear that we enter the same terrain again and again, yet each time we meet what had been hidden with ever more subtlety. Each time we emerge back into a sense of wholeness and clarity, we literally hold more light and understanding, and with that more empathy and compassion for ourselves and others. We come again to meet the beliefs and emotions that still control us from the shadows, yet each time we hold a more unshakeable connection to awareness and love. As we no longer lose ourselves in what we once believed would drown us, we are able to re-parent these lost children of the heart and mind. Again and again.
The evolution of the individual and the collective is a process of both waking up and growing up simultaneously. Seeing what is true with ever more depth, and loving truth with ever fewer conditions, until unconditional love is who we know ourselves to be, and the only way we choose to manifest. It’s a journey that takes us from reactivity to receptivity, and from dependency to sovereignty. The vision of a world in which human beings are receptive and sovereign custodians of love continues to ignite in me the courage, tenacity and devotion that this work demands. Whatever is here in your beautiful heart, whatever you are struggling with in your life, my deepest wish is that you see this, too, as an invitation to love all that is emerging from the shadows with such trust and fearlessness, that nothing is left behind.
Letter to my young self
It was not a place where you could be who you were, little one. Not a place to let your sunshiney self bubble over in disregard. Not ok to push at the edges of what you knew, and trust you’d be caught when you fell. It wasn’t obvious, then, that you’d still be loved if you were disappointing to others, or forgiven if you angered them. Your eyes saw fragile, wounded hearts too young to show the way.
You discovered long ago that your strength was in doing anything at all to please. Your colossal strength, sweet one, was your willingness to sidestep yourself to be what you needed to be. Beyond opinion or preference, to have no voice. To like what he liked: raw egg and steak tartare while others squirmed and balked. To be the sensuous one. Yes that too. Your compliance brought peace, extended ease. Gave you a shadow of importance. It’s nobody’s fault, there’s no one to blame: simply how it unfolded. It was the best thing to do, and everyone was doing the best that they could. But you abandoned yourself, sweet love.
I couldn’t be there for you then because I was only as old as you. But I’ve grown now. I’m remembering who I am, the bright light of my being. I’m understanding why I’m here and what this journey is all about. Do you remember the nightmare you had each night? Your name moving slowly through a machine: beyond your control, no way of turning back? The longing to make sense of the chaos? As the pieces fall into place, I want to tell you now: that machine was not malevolent after all, my love, and nor was it separate from you. It was, and always is, an invitation into life. It is the great dance that grows us.
So I walk into that room today, yet all those years ago, and scoop you up. Hold you close as we turn the other way. And whispering mouth to cheek, I ask you to tell me about everything you love. I wonder how you feel and what you think. We eat strawberries in the park and as I follow you around you babble away. I listen and tell you how much I love your voice. You laugh a mouth full of strawberries and say you love mine too, in a voice like a clown! I love you. I love the light and joy you bring with such ease. You’re no longer in darkness, watching, little one. You are sunshine and strawberries, playful and goofy. Carefree in love.
I place you on my altar, next to Buddhas, ancestors and sacred stones connecting to earth and sky. I know that I’m needed to allow you to be you. I will never leave you now. But I want you to know that I, too, need your brightness and joy so that I can be truly, freely, me. This precious life has grown us, from you into me, and is growing me now into us.
It was not a place where you could be who you were, little one. Not a place to let your sunshiney self bubble over in disregard. Not ok to push at the edges of what you knew, and trust you’d be caught when you fell. It wasn’t obvious, then, that you’d still be loved if you were disappointing to others, or forgiven if you angered them. Your eyes saw fragile, wounded hearts too young to show the way.
You discovered long ago that your strength was in doing anything at all to please. Your colossal strength, sweet one, was your willingness to sidestep yourself to be what you needed to be. Beyond opinion or preference, to have no voice. To like what he liked: raw egg and steak tartare while others squirmed and balked. To be the sensuous one. Yes that too. Your compliance brought peace, extended ease. Gave you a shadow of importance. It’s nobody’s fault, there’s no one to blame: simply how it unfolded. It was the best thing to do, and everyone was doing the best that they could. But you abandoned yourself, sweet love.
I couldn’t be there for you then because I was only as old as you. But I’ve grown now. I’m remembering who I am, the bright light of my being. I’m understanding why I’m here and what this journey is all about. Do you remember the nightmare you had each night? Your name moving slowly through a machine: beyond your control, no way of turning back? The longing to make sense of the chaos? As the pieces fall into place, I want to tell you now: that machine was not malevolent after all, my love, and nor was it separate from you. It was, and always is, an invitation into life. It is the great dance that grows us.
So I walk into that room today, yet all those years ago, and scoop you up. Hold you close as we turn the other way. And whispering mouth to cheek, I ask you to tell me about everything you love. I wonder how you feel and what you think. We eat strawberries in the park and as I follow you around you babble away. I listen and tell you how much I love your voice. You laugh a mouth full of strawberries and say you love mine too, in a voice like a clown! I love you. I love the light and joy you bring with such ease. You’re no longer in darkness, watching, little one. You are sunshine and strawberries, playful and goofy. Carefree in love.
I place you on my altar, next to Buddhas, ancestors and sacred stones connecting to earth and sky. I know that I’m needed to allow you to be you. I will never leave you now. But I want you to know that I, too, need your brightness and joy so that I can be truly, freely, me. This precious life has grown us, from you into me, and is growing me now into us.
Doubt and Judgement
When doubt and judgement are present, may you find the courage to meet them with kindness and trust. Remember these painful thoughts are movements of mind to be recognised, allowed and alchemised. When doubt is met with trust, it is trust that grows within you. When judgement is met with kindness, it is kindness that blossoms and spreads.
Watch for the voice that tells you you’re not ok. That you’re going crazy, should be doing more, feeling less, or coping better. More productive, less emotional. More rational, practical, engaged, proactive. Less sensitive, intuitive, still and receptive. Feel the fear that it’s protecting, the belief of not enough, the longing to belong.
Remember that for some of us, our sacred work is less visible right now. Like growing a baby within you, the alchemy you are creating through body, heart and mind is equally miraculous and transformative. This is what you are here for. Your greatest offering. Using your body as a vessel to meet all density and transform it into light.
What you do for yourself, you do for the collective. Your raw personal truth is not just yours. You are a tuning fork for us all as you channel these energies back to the Earth for renewal and release. In this powerful and courageous work, judgement and doubt can be the stickiest threads to disentangle. The Buddha, too, met doubt as his final challenge. “Who are YOU to be the awakened one?” He simply touched the Earth: “As Earth is my witness”. And so it is.
May you, too, continue what you know to be true, witnessed and supported by the universe. Surrender to the descent that returns you to the light when you meet what you find with love. Trust along the way. Be kind with yourself and others. You are so deeply needed and loved.
When doubt and judgement are present, may you find the courage to meet them with kindness and trust. Remember these painful thoughts are movements of mind to be recognised, allowed and alchemised. When doubt is met with trust, it is trust that grows within you. When judgement is met with kindness, it is kindness that blossoms and spreads.
Watch for the voice that tells you you’re not ok. That you’re going crazy, should be doing more, feeling less, or coping better. More productive, less emotional. More rational, practical, engaged, proactive. Less sensitive, intuitive, still and receptive. Feel the fear that it’s protecting, the belief of not enough, the longing to belong.
Remember that for some of us, our sacred work is less visible right now. Like growing a baby within you, the alchemy you are creating through body, heart and mind is equally miraculous and transformative. This is what you are here for. Your greatest offering. Using your body as a vessel to meet all density and transform it into light.
What you do for yourself, you do for the collective. Your raw personal truth is not just yours. You are a tuning fork for us all as you channel these energies back to the Earth for renewal and release. In this powerful and courageous work, judgement and doubt can be the stickiest threads to disentangle. The Buddha, too, met doubt as his final challenge. “Who are YOU to be the awakened one?” He simply touched the Earth: “As Earth is my witness”. And so it is.
May you, too, continue what you know to be true, witnessed and supported by the universe. Surrender to the descent that returns you to the light when you meet what you find with love. Trust along the way. Be kind with yourself and others. You are so deeply needed and loved.
You Are Remembering Yourself As Love
“We become ever more free as we let go of our three primary motivations: our need for power and control, our need for safety and security, and our need for affection and esteem.” Richard Rohr
You are meeting the belief that you are not love.
Every time this belief arises, it is you who must love it.
This happens by turning towards it and holding it like a baby.
In the heat of the fire, let yourself feel this love and be held in its embrace.
Not from the outside, but from your own self-sustaining source.
So that you become a fountain of your own confidence, creativity and joy.
Your guides are watching you, and placing things in your path.
What you meet will never be too much for you.
You must surrender and trust to grow into these gifts.
Your ancestors are thanking you: they couldn’t do this without you.
What you are doing here is extraordinary.
You are loved and guided all the way. Always.
You are loosening the ties of history.
You are transforming the energies of lifetimes within you.
You are remembering yourself as love.
“We become ever more free as we let go of our three primary motivations: our need for power and control, our need for safety and security, and our need for affection and esteem.” Richard Rohr
You are meeting the belief that you are not love.
Every time this belief arises, it is you who must love it.
This happens by turning towards it and holding it like a baby.
In the heat of the fire, let yourself feel this love and be held in its embrace.
Not from the outside, but from your own self-sustaining source.
So that you become a fountain of your own confidence, creativity and joy.
Your guides are watching you, and placing things in your path.
What you meet will never be too much for you.
You must surrender and trust to grow into these gifts.
Your ancestors are thanking you: they couldn’t do this without you.
What you are doing here is extraordinary.
You are loved and guided all the way. Always.
You are loosening the ties of history.
You are transforming the energies of lifetimes within you.
You are remembering yourself as love.
The Courage to Grieve
I have been feeling so raw with the question of what it truly means to respond to anger without violence. I know that life always offers me what I need to grow into these questions, even though what I receive is often not what I want. Although I have known there to be a relationship between anger and compassion for some time, to embody what I know means to live it in my life and open to learning from the places I get lost. It just seems to be the way.
This can be painful, but it also means that there is always a gift hidden in the heart of every moment that is challenging. The learning I have been forgetting and remembering over the last few weeks has been arising from the energy of anger. In the Dharma, it is said that when the Buddha sat under the Bodhi tree at the cusp of enlightenment, one of the forms he was confronted with to wake him up were arrows of violence. As he sat in complete peace and openness, the arrows transformed into flowers, landing softly on his lap. Anger was not prevented or denied, but was alchemised instead.
Chinese medicine describes this alchemical pathway as well. Anger transforms into compassion as the health and vitality of Liver qi grows. Grief transforms into courage as Lung qi strengthens. The two energies are said to be connected, each needing the health of the other for balance. Perhaps the courage to grieve supports this transformation of anger into compassion?
In my own experience this has felt very true. In the last few days I have really committed to making more time to slow down and feel the pain behind my anger, however righteous it appears to be, before I move to act. It has revealed the grief of seeing things as they are, in myself, in others and in the world. The grief of no longer turning away from what is true, and the grief from seeing through the delusion of what is untrue.
Although it’s hard to stay present, what I am noticing is a softening of my heart. Anger has an energy that is defiant, but grief is tender and closer to love. It’s a space that allows the hardened narratives of regret or shame to become tears of tenderness. And it also allows the pain received from arrows of disrespect, unkindness and violation to be felt without the need for retaliation.
Each recognition of how much this hurts us all, returns me to the pain that the violence had been protecting. It’s not an excuse for violent action. In fact, feeling this grief can only come when we have made ourselves (or others) safe, after standing up and saying no to actions that are distorted and harmful. But once safety is established, softening into the grief allows us to see each other again, to recognise our sameness, and the suffering behind every single action of violence. It is the ground of compassion.
In other words, grief takes the self righteousness out of anger, without diminishing the clarity of appropriate boundaries and decisive action. And compassion in turn grows forgiveness. Although the actions themselves aren’t forgiven, the human being behind the action is always forgiven when we remember that they are reacting from their own pain and ignorance. That includes self-forgiveness, by the way.
Remembering this returns us to our collective humanness and fallibility. To see the terror on Amy Cooper’s face is not to deny the agonising racism it exposed. To recognise the fear filled numbness on the face of the policeman standing by as George Floyd was murdered is not to make excuses for those heinous actions. Similarly for us all. Our moments of reactive blundering are not excused, but we are returned to love when we remember they are arising from a mind still asleep. And it's compassion that wakes us up.
Some people and events are easier to forgive than others. I’m far from perfect. I’m trusting that entering the places that hurt will continue to tenderise my heart and help me forgive these imperfections first. Then those of my friends and family. One day I aspire to genuinely holding a space of compassion and forgiveness for the people whose blindness results in more extreme suffering. For now, I can only imagine how much they are suffering too.
I have been feeling so raw with the question of what it truly means to respond to anger without violence. I know that life always offers me what I need to grow into these questions, even though what I receive is often not what I want. Although I have known there to be a relationship between anger and compassion for some time, to embody what I know means to live it in my life and open to learning from the places I get lost. It just seems to be the way.
This can be painful, but it also means that there is always a gift hidden in the heart of every moment that is challenging. The learning I have been forgetting and remembering over the last few weeks has been arising from the energy of anger. In the Dharma, it is said that when the Buddha sat under the Bodhi tree at the cusp of enlightenment, one of the forms he was confronted with to wake him up were arrows of violence. As he sat in complete peace and openness, the arrows transformed into flowers, landing softly on his lap. Anger was not prevented or denied, but was alchemised instead.
Chinese medicine describes this alchemical pathway as well. Anger transforms into compassion as the health and vitality of Liver qi grows. Grief transforms into courage as Lung qi strengthens. The two energies are said to be connected, each needing the health of the other for balance. Perhaps the courage to grieve supports this transformation of anger into compassion?
In my own experience this has felt very true. In the last few days I have really committed to making more time to slow down and feel the pain behind my anger, however righteous it appears to be, before I move to act. It has revealed the grief of seeing things as they are, in myself, in others and in the world. The grief of no longer turning away from what is true, and the grief from seeing through the delusion of what is untrue.
Although it’s hard to stay present, what I am noticing is a softening of my heart. Anger has an energy that is defiant, but grief is tender and closer to love. It’s a space that allows the hardened narratives of regret or shame to become tears of tenderness. And it also allows the pain received from arrows of disrespect, unkindness and violation to be felt without the need for retaliation.
Each recognition of how much this hurts us all, returns me to the pain that the violence had been protecting. It’s not an excuse for violent action. In fact, feeling this grief can only come when we have made ourselves (or others) safe, after standing up and saying no to actions that are distorted and harmful. But once safety is established, softening into the grief allows us to see each other again, to recognise our sameness, and the suffering behind every single action of violence. It is the ground of compassion.
In other words, grief takes the self righteousness out of anger, without diminishing the clarity of appropriate boundaries and decisive action. And compassion in turn grows forgiveness. Although the actions themselves aren’t forgiven, the human being behind the action is always forgiven when we remember that they are reacting from their own pain and ignorance. That includes self-forgiveness, by the way.
Remembering this returns us to our collective humanness and fallibility. To see the terror on Amy Cooper’s face is not to deny the agonising racism it exposed. To recognise the fear filled numbness on the face of the policeman standing by as George Floyd was murdered is not to make excuses for those heinous actions. Similarly for us all. Our moments of reactive blundering are not excused, but we are returned to love when we remember they are arising from a mind still asleep. And it's compassion that wakes us up.
Some people and events are easier to forgive than others. I’m far from perfect. I’m trusting that entering the places that hurt will continue to tenderise my heart and help me forgive these imperfections first. Then those of my friends and family. One day I aspire to genuinely holding a space of compassion and forgiveness for the people whose blindness results in more extreme suffering. For now, I can only imagine how much they are suffering too.
From Anger to Compassion and Power
If waking up is a journey of remembering our Essence, then growing up is the journey of embodying that Essence. To embody Essence we must first meet all the places where we get caught in identification. Holding them in love until every movement of body, heart and mind are expressions of that love. Getting caught in identification means operating through the lens of the experience we are having. When we blend or merge with an experience and lose sight of the love that holds and knows it, we either suppress what we’re feeling (if it threatens our safety or self perception) or reactively (violently) express it.
We are choosing to walk through the curriculum of life to meet our own immaturity in order to grow up. This is now arising at the collective level as well as the personal, most notably in recent months with our relationship to fear and anger. We have witnessed fear suppressed (as denial) and violently expressed (as control). And many are coming into a new relationship with fear, as sacred messenger of the illusion of separation. Accepting and growing into the invitation to remember our interconnectedness, belonging and responsibility as sacred parts of the whole.
We find ourselves now in the classroom of anger. What is the gift here and where is the teaching? How do we navigate these waves?
It is more obvious to think about outer violence when we reflect on anger, but as we stand up passionately for nonviolence, we must also remember the inner violence of suppression. Particularly amongst “spiritual’ communities. Fear and anger are uncomfortable, so we can be quick to mask these emotions with how we want to feel or how we prefer to envision the world. Suppressing emotions that we have seen expressed violently is not the same as nonviolence. When we use the tools of waking up in order to avoid growing up, we will constantly be shifting out of uncomfortable states in order to appear to inhabit the state of union we long for.
Suppression is in fact a form of violence to ourselves, which in turn is a violence to the world. If fear and anger are present yet suppressed, we will allow ourselves to remain blind to whatever triggers these feelings, perpetuating the violence of the world through our arrogance and inaction. It’s a fragile state, which can easily switch into disproportionate reactivity, often directed at the people we are closest to.
However, no longer suppressing anger doesn’t mean expressing it violently. When we truly embody nonviolence we are incredibly powerful. The great leaders and prophets who have expressed this have been instigators of profound transformation in the world, but for this to be lasting and sustainable we must do our own inner work of personal embodiment. The time of the guru and spiritual leader is over. As we each courageously move out of the violence of suppression and reaction, and invite the energies we are caught in to be recognised and allowed, they arrive as our true teachers.
So, once again, what is anger here to teach us? We are being invited to drop into our bodies and enquire into this for ourselves. For me, the gifts offered through anger are compassion and power, which together become forces of profound transformation. The keys to access these gifts lie in the grief that hides behind anger, and in the aliveness that rests at the heart of anger. This is our power. And there is nothing that our conditioned, separate selves are more afraid of than personal power in alignment with love.
If waking up is a journey of remembering our Essence, then growing up is the journey of embodying that Essence. To embody Essence we must first meet all the places where we get caught in identification. Holding them in love until every movement of body, heart and mind are expressions of that love. Getting caught in identification means operating through the lens of the experience we are having. When we blend or merge with an experience and lose sight of the love that holds and knows it, we either suppress what we’re feeling (if it threatens our safety or self perception) or reactively (violently) express it.
We are choosing to walk through the curriculum of life to meet our own immaturity in order to grow up. This is now arising at the collective level as well as the personal, most notably in recent months with our relationship to fear and anger. We have witnessed fear suppressed (as denial) and violently expressed (as control). And many are coming into a new relationship with fear, as sacred messenger of the illusion of separation. Accepting and growing into the invitation to remember our interconnectedness, belonging and responsibility as sacred parts of the whole.
We find ourselves now in the classroom of anger. What is the gift here and where is the teaching? How do we navigate these waves?
It is more obvious to think about outer violence when we reflect on anger, but as we stand up passionately for nonviolence, we must also remember the inner violence of suppression. Particularly amongst “spiritual’ communities. Fear and anger are uncomfortable, so we can be quick to mask these emotions with how we want to feel or how we prefer to envision the world. Suppressing emotions that we have seen expressed violently is not the same as nonviolence. When we use the tools of waking up in order to avoid growing up, we will constantly be shifting out of uncomfortable states in order to appear to inhabit the state of union we long for.
Suppression is in fact a form of violence to ourselves, which in turn is a violence to the world. If fear and anger are present yet suppressed, we will allow ourselves to remain blind to whatever triggers these feelings, perpetuating the violence of the world through our arrogance and inaction. It’s a fragile state, which can easily switch into disproportionate reactivity, often directed at the people we are closest to.
However, no longer suppressing anger doesn’t mean expressing it violently. When we truly embody nonviolence we are incredibly powerful. The great leaders and prophets who have expressed this have been instigators of profound transformation in the world, but for this to be lasting and sustainable we must do our own inner work of personal embodiment. The time of the guru and spiritual leader is over. As we each courageously move out of the violence of suppression and reaction, and invite the energies we are caught in to be recognised and allowed, they arrive as our true teachers.
So, once again, what is anger here to teach us? We are being invited to drop into our bodies and enquire into this for ourselves. For me, the gifts offered through anger are compassion and power, which together become forces of profound transformation. The keys to access these gifts lie in the grief that hides behind anger, and in the aliveness that rests at the heart of anger. This is our power. And there is nothing that our conditioned, separate selves are more afraid of than personal power in alignment with love.
Sacred Anger, Sacred Action
The energy of anger is like a river running deep in the bedrock of our being. It’s a sacred energy that arises in response to any violation. It moves to defend the sovereignty of all life with sacred action: one that is unwaveringly in alignment with love, supporting the highest good of all beings.
It is an energy that is rising up to be met, understood and integrated right now. It is asking us to come out of either numbness or reactivity, and let it express itself through powerful but peaceful standing up and saying no to anything that violates the laws of sovereignty and respect.
Many of us have not experienced the sacredness of anger, having been relentlessly exposed to its distorted expression. The river becomes distorted when its flow is either suppressed in fear, or flooded with narratives of blame or shame. It is through meeting this imbalance within ourselves that we no longer act with violence, or unconsciously hide from the things that trigger it.
Only when we are not caught in the tide of this river will those of us who have been violated be able to face justice with nonviolence. And only when we are not afraid of anger will those of us who are part of the privileged (white/able bodied/male/heterosexual...) be able to fully face the violations occurring all around. As James Baldwin said “Not everything that is faced can be changed, but nothing can be changed until it is faced.”
The unspeakable racism we are witnessing is not new. Nor is the manipulation of power to instigate violence and maintain subjugation. But it is powerful and heartening to feel that there is no longer the appetite for such violation. I have felt a shift within myself and the collective where there is no longer a willingness to engage with the entangled relationships and dynamics that were once accepted or ignored. What was once normal in our personal or collective lives no longer resonates as we ride these waves of change.
This is a time to educate ourselves about all that we have remained blind to, offering financial and human resources where possible to create real and lasting transformation. Side by side with this is a personal journey for each of us to travel to find our way to the sacredness of anger, and the grief that lies by its side. It begins when we allow ourselves to become grounded and connected enough to feel anger and grief fully, so that we can respond nonviolently and authentically. A luxury that not everyone has access to; a responsibility for those that do.
This journey connects us to our personal stories of stored anger and grief. Which is not to compare the personal with the collective, or undermine the scale of this issue. But rather that it is in our personal relationship that we learn to release, create boundaries, say no to entanglement, and trust in the energy of anger, so that it can truly offer itself as a force of positive change for all.
Even as our attention is rightly drawn to the world stage at the moment, let us not forget that our greatest offering is our own embodiment of what we aspire for in the world. When our activism takes us away from taking responsibility for our personal dance with anger, this is in itself a form of violence. What is going on in the world isn’t separate from what is going on in our own hearts and minds. We are all waking up and growing up together. It is my greatest wish that in both turning inwards and giving outwards, we will continue to walk ourselves, each other and the path of humanity towards its highest expression and potential.
The energy of anger is like a river running deep in the bedrock of our being. It’s a sacred energy that arises in response to any violation. It moves to defend the sovereignty of all life with sacred action: one that is unwaveringly in alignment with love, supporting the highest good of all beings.
It is an energy that is rising up to be met, understood and integrated right now. It is asking us to come out of either numbness or reactivity, and let it express itself through powerful but peaceful standing up and saying no to anything that violates the laws of sovereignty and respect.
Many of us have not experienced the sacredness of anger, having been relentlessly exposed to its distorted expression. The river becomes distorted when its flow is either suppressed in fear, or flooded with narratives of blame or shame. It is through meeting this imbalance within ourselves that we no longer act with violence, or unconsciously hide from the things that trigger it.
Only when we are not caught in the tide of this river will those of us who have been violated be able to face justice with nonviolence. And only when we are not afraid of anger will those of us who are part of the privileged (white/able bodied/male/heterosexual...) be able to fully face the violations occurring all around. As James Baldwin said “Not everything that is faced can be changed, but nothing can be changed until it is faced.”
The unspeakable racism we are witnessing is not new. Nor is the manipulation of power to instigate violence and maintain subjugation. But it is powerful and heartening to feel that there is no longer the appetite for such violation. I have felt a shift within myself and the collective where there is no longer a willingness to engage with the entangled relationships and dynamics that were once accepted or ignored. What was once normal in our personal or collective lives no longer resonates as we ride these waves of change.
This is a time to educate ourselves about all that we have remained blind to, offering financial and human resources where possible to create real and lasting transformation. Side by side with this is a personal journey for each of us to travel to find our way to the sacredness of anger, and the grief that lies by its side. It begins when we allow ourselves to become grounded and connected enough to feel anger and grief fully, so that we can respond nonviolently and authentically. A luxury that not everyone has access to; a responsibility for those that do.
This journey connects us to our personal stories of stored anger and grief. Which is not to compare the personal with the collective, or undermine the scale of this issue. But rather that it is in our personal relationship that we learn to release, create boundaries, say no to entanglement, and trust in the energy of anger, so that it can truly offer itself as a force of positive change for all.
Even as our attention is rightly drawn to the world stage at the moment, let us not forget that our greatest offering is our own embodiment of what we aspire for in the world. When our activism takes us away from taking responsibility for our personal dance with anger, this is in itself a form of violence. What is going on in the world isn’t separate from what is going on in our own hearts and minds. We are all waking up and growing up together. It is my greatest wish that in both turning inwards and giving outwards, we will continue to walk ourselves, each other and the path of humanity towards its highest expression and potential.
The Guest House
What you are feeling, thinking or believing right now is not who you are. It's what you're feeling, thinking or believing. This matters because without it we become entangled, and operate as if the feeling, thought or belief were our home, rather than a guest moving through our home.
The "not ok" belief is coming up for our attention right now. When "I am not ok" is the home we live in, it continuously looks to soothe its own pain. With hollow self promotion or aggressive ambition when the arrow turns inwards. And when turned around to "you are not ok" there's the violence expressed in the myriad forms we see today.
None of this is new. This guest was so deeply ensconced in our homes that many no longer noticed the way it carried with it an air of deflated acceptance. The belief that society will always operate like this, that being human will always feel like this. But we are noticing now, and many are no longer accepting.
"I am not ok" is not who you are. "You are not ok" is not the truth of who other people are. These are simply the voices of millennia echoing through the walls of our homes. When we invite them in as guests and hold space for their pain, what was not ok becomes ok as we learn to trust in it. As Ram Dass said, "when you look at things that you can't bear, whatever couldn't bear them dies".
I am finding it tender and poignant to call this voice forward each day to walk by my side, recognised and allowed, yet no longer in charge. My hope is that more of us will choose to make space for our guests. Trusting that they are not so fearsome, even as they break us open. As Rumi said, they “may be clearing you out for some new delight… Be grateful for whoever comes, because each has been sent as a guide from beyond”.
What you are feeling, thinking or believing right now is not who you are. It's what you're feeling, thinking or believing. This matters because without it we become entangled, and operate as if the feeling, thought or belief were our home, rather than a guest moving through our home.
The "not ok" belief is coming up for our attention right now. When "I am not ok" is the home we live in, it continuously looks to soothe its own pain. With hollow self promotion or aggressive ambition when the arrow turns inwards. And when turned around to "you are not ok" there's the violence expressed in the myriad forms we see today.
None of this is new. This guest was so deeply ensconced in our homes that many no longer noticed the way it carried with it an air of deflated acceptance. The belief that society will always operate like this, that being human will always feel like this. But we are noticing now, and many are no longer accepting.
"I am not ok" is not who you are. "You are not ok" is not the truth of who other people are. These are simply the voices of millennia echoing through the walls of our homes. When we invite them in as guests and hold space for their pain, what was not ok becomes ok as we learn to trust in it. As Ram Dass said, "when you look at things that you can't bear, whatever couldn't bear them dies".
I am finding it tender and poignant to call this voice forward each day to walk by my side, recognised and allowed, yet no longer in charge. My hope is that more of us will choose to make space for our guests. Trusting that they are not so fearsome, even as they break us open. As Rumi said, they “may be clearing you out for some new delight… Be grateful for whoever comes, because each has been sent as a guide from beyond”.
The Value of Myths
The Buddha taught that the universe itself is continually co-dependently arising, everything influencing everything else. What emerges in form is only an expression of the energy behind it. What does this mean about our world today? Patanjali reminded us that the way we perceive reality is inevitably filtered through our conditioning and interpretations. What does this mean about our search for a definitive truth? Modern psychology points to our tendency to project discomfort outside of ourselves so we can fix it there. Could it be that we are doing this also with the beliefs that we invest so much into?
The us-versus-them, or victim-perpetrator-rescuer narratives offer a tempting salvation to disease. We place the problem out there so that when we fix it, all will be well. This approach is as much in the counterculture versions of what’s going on as it is the mainstream approach to controlling this virus. What I hear on all sides are similar narratives of human goodness and human corruption, dressed in different clothing. I hear aspirations to bring benefit and create positive change in my friends who identify as mainstream or conspiracists alike. And I see the effects of centuries of corruption, greed, patriarchy, white supremacy and capitalism everywhere I look.
Each of us creates our own myths based on this interplay of light and shadow. We choose to believe what serves our interests and fits our existing worldview. We interpret reality in ways that strengthen our sense of identity and belonging to a chosen collective. And reality easily offers back confirmation of our perspective, since its nature is complexity. Truth is not interested in belonging to sides! But we are often more interested in selecting truths that suit our views.
A more important reflection for me is to ask what is common across all sides? What are the energies of darkness and light that precede and create these myths? When I look at these energies I see myself. And it’s far more uncomfortable to recognise that everything arising is inseparable from me, than it is to locate evil out there (whether virus or cabal) to be eliminated and resolved.
I am finding humility to be the greatest support for my journey these days. And realise that love is the only compass I need. I am finding the courage to drop the protection of so many beliefs and recognise their value as myths. The humility to stand naked in the midst of complexity, and trust in the capacity of my own, and our collective, goodness to transform.
The Buddha taught that the universe itself is continually co-dependently arising, everything influencing everything else. What emerges in form is only an expression of the energy behind it. What does this mean about our world today? Patanjali reminded us that the way we perceive reality is inevitably filtered through our conditioning and interpretations. What does this mean about our search for a definitive truth? Modern psychology points to our tendency to project discomfort outside of ourselves so we can fix it there. Could it be that we are doing this also with the beliefs that we invest so much into?
The us-versus-them, or victim-perpetrator-rescuer narratives offer a tempting salvation to disease. We place the problem out there so that when we fix it, all will be well. This approach is as much in the counterculture versions of what’s going on as it is the mainstream approach to controlling this virus. What I hear on all sides are similar narratives of human goodness and human corruption, dressed in different clothing. I hear aspirations to bring benefit and create positive change in my friends who identify as mainstream or conspiracists alike. And I see the effects of centuries of corruption, greed, patriarchy, white supremacy and capitalism everywhere I look.
Each of us creates our own myths based on this interplay of light and shadow. We choose to believe what serves our interests and fits our existing worldview. We interpret reality in ways that strengthen our sense of identity and belonging to a chosen collective. And reality easily offers back confirmation of our perspective, since its nature is complexity. Truth is not interested in belonging to sides! But we are often more interested in selecting truths that suit our views.
A more important reflection for me is to ask what is common across all sides? What are the energies of darkness and light that precede and create these myths? When I look at these energies I see myself. And it’s far more uncomfortable to recognise that everything arising is inseparable from me, than it is to locate evil out there (whether virus or cabal) to be eliminated and resolved.
I am finding humility to be the greatest support for my journey these days. And realise that love is the only compass I need. I am finding the courage to drop the protection of so many beliefs and recognise their value as myths. The humility to stand naked in the midst of complexity, and trust in the capacity of my own, and our collective, goodness to transform.
Kali's Fire
Today is no ordinary new moon. I am feeling within it the invitation to let go like never before. To allow something radically new to be born.
Following this invitation when it came, I entered the darkness of my womb. The goddess Kali was waiting there, great creator and destroyer, her energy vast like the sky. She invited me out of my smallness to stand by her side. Asked me to look into her eyes and sync my breathing with hers. To let her become me and me become her.
As if emerging through veils she showed me what has been living in my womb. A cord, fibrous like dark kelp. Roots spreading wide, nestled deep, attached placenta-like without invitation. Extending out into someone I have known since before I can remember.
I was ready. The roots detached effortlessly, the cord birthed graciously. Yet it writhed and thrashed in Kali's fire like screaming eels, before returning to stillness and dust.
Only deep gratitude remained in the space by the fire. For this body, for this life. For the quirks shared that make me who I am. For the lessons learned and the sacred path taken. For all that has led to this moment of now.
Compassion is here, yes. Kindness and care too. There's no blame or resentment. But the entanglement is gone, the energy cleared. I have remembered myself to be a sovereign soul. Responsible for nobody's happiness, nobody responsible for mine.
Many years ago an elder shared that my journey in this life was to forgive and let go. In my arrogance it felt too small, I was here for loftier things! Love and freedom! But today I see that letting go and forgiveness reveal freedom and love to be here all along.
If you're feeling the winds of change move through you, I invite you to surrender to Kali when she appears. It may not seem to be the journey you've asked for. But what you are asking for will grow from the ashes of what you courageously surrender into.
I know that you too are a shining sovereign soul.
Today is no ordinary new moon. I am feeling within it the invitation to let go like never before. To allow something radically new to be born.
Following this invitation when it came, I entered the darkness of my womb. The goddess Kali was waiting there, great creator and destroyer, her energy vast like the sky. She invited me out of my smallness to stand by her side. Asked me to look into her eyes and sync my breathing with hers. To let her become me and me become her.
As if emerging through veils she showed me what has been living in my womb. A cord, fibrous like dark kelp. Roots spreading wide, nestled deep, attached placenta-like without invitation. Extending out into someone I have known since before I can remember.
I was ready. The roots detached effortlessly, the cord birthed graciously. Yet it writhed and thrashed in Kali's fire like screaming eels, before returning to stillness and dust.
Only deep gratitude remained in the space by the fire. For this body, for this life. For the quirks shared that make me who I am. For the lessons learned and the sacred path taken. For all that has led to this moment of now.
Compassion is here, yes. Kindness and care too. There's no blame or resentment. But the entanglement is gone, the energy cleared. I have remembered myself to be a sovereign soul. Responsible for nobody's happiness, nobody responsible for mine.
Many years ago an elder shared that my journey in this life was to forgive and let go. In my arrogance it felt too small, I was here for loftier things! Love and freedom! But today I see that letting go and forgiveness reveal freedom and love to be here all along.
If you're feeling the winds of change move through you, I invite you to surrender to Kali when she appears. It may not seem to be the journey you've asked for. But what you are asking for will grow from the ashes of what you courageously surrender into.
I know that you too are a shining sovereign soul.
Prayer for the New Earth
Blessed Pachamama, Great Earth Mother, please hold me in this ancient grief of self-abandonment. The pain of having left my Self to find myself in others. Each time I sacrificed my own knowing and connection in order to avoid imagined rejection. Please hold me as hidden beliefs and trauma rise up and through me like dark clouds to be felt and freed. Thank you for the unshakeable presence that invites me to trust in the darkness as it comes into the light.
Beloved Apus, Great Mountain Spirits, please help me follow my own knowing as I’m guided in the steadiness of your wisdom. Please show me where I waiver and look to belong or go to war. Thank you for inviting me to inhabit the strength and grace that is my birth right, so that as brothers and sisters we stand side by side, in kindness, support and mutual recognition. As we honour the light gifted to our hearts, and listen to how we are asked to move it in this world.
Sacred circle of guides and ancestors, please hold me and guide me to feel the poignancy of this moment of awakening. To recognise and honour the perfection of the orchestration we have created together. Please help me find genuine gratitude for all those who have shown me where I leave myself. Thank you for teaching me that entering this body deaf and blind to the truth of reality was not a curse. Unable to rely on what I heard or saw, it was an invitation to grow through surrender into humility. To know love in form without arrogance. And through that to know compassion.
Thank you for holding the ground of compassion and the light of wisdom, the two wings of awareness that forever invite us all to fly.
Aho!
Blessed Pachamama, Great Earth Mother, please hold me in this ancient grief of self-abandonment. The pain of having left my Self to find myself in others. Each time I sacrificed my own knowing and connection in order to avoid imagined rejection. Please hold me as hidden beliefs and trauma rise up and through me like dark clouds to be felt and freed. Thank you for the unshakeable presence that invites me to trust in the darkness as it comes into the light.
Beloved Apus, Great Mountain Spirits, please help me follow my own knowing as I’m guided in the steadiness of your wisdom. Please show me where I waiver and look to belong or go to war. Thank you for inviting me to inhabit the strength and grace that is my birth right, so that as brothers and sisters we stand side by side, in kindness, support and mutual recognition. As we honour the light gifted to our hearts, and listen to how we are asked to move it in this world.
Sacred circle of guides and ancestors, please hold me and guide me to feel the poignancy of this moment of awakening. To recognise and honour the perfection of the orchestration we have created together. Please help me find genuine gratitude for all those who have shown me where I leave myself. Thank you for teaching me that entering this body deaf and blind to the truth of reality was not a curse. Unable to rely on what I heard or saw, it was an invitation to grow through surrender into humility. To know love in form without arrogance. And through that to know compassion.
Thank you for holding the ground of compassion and the light of wisdom, the two wings of awareness that forever invite us all to fly.
Aho!
Yesterday a long time ago
When my eldest was young and still lived in the present, he would describe anything in the past to have happened yesterday-a-long-time-ago.
In this timeless pause, I am receiving his young wisdom. Yesterday a long time ago is already past, and this moment is inviting a radical presence.
We are strengthening our wings to fly through any and every storm, and to swoop and glide when the sky is blue.
Whatever this day is bringing you friends, I hope you remember that life is always calling you into the dance. Reaching out its hand and waiting patiently for you to extend your own.
Whether you find yourself stepping into storm or stillness, your hand will be held. And if your heart is open, seeds of liberation will be planted there. Your own response is what grows the fruit.
Yesterday a long time ago is gone, and tomorrow is only a dream. Today is a gift that can only be received by opening to it in unconditional trust. Hearing the story it's asking you to let go of, and feeling the reality it's inviting you to allow.
When my eldest was young and still lived in the present, he would describe anything in the past to have happened yesterday-a-long-time-ago.
In this timeless pause, I am receiving his young wisdom. Yesterday a long time ago is already past, and this moment is inviting a radical presence.
We are strengthening our wings to fly through any and every storm, and to swoop and glide when the sky is blue.
Whatever this day is bringing you friends, I hope you remember that life is always calling you into the dance. Reaching out its hand and waiting patiently for you to extend your own.
Whether you find yourself stepping into storm or stillness, your hand will be held. And if your heart is open, seeds of liberation will be planted there. Your own response is what grows the fruit.
Yesterday a long time ago is gone, and tomorrow is only a dream. Today is a gift that can only be received by opening to it in unconditional trust. Hearing the story it's asking you to let go of, and feeling the reality it's inviting you to allow.
Bursting into fullness of flower
Sister,
What will you do when you wake up one morning and realise there is no saviour?
No government, no Q, no spiritual teacher who will put right what is wrong.
No husband, no lover, no father, no son who will convince you that you belong.
Will you tear them down for your shattered expectations of a dream that was never true?
Will you search somewhere else for more packaged promises that all will be taken good care of?
Or carry the weight of your bitterness heavy on your back, that in the end no one ever came to save you?
Sister,
The places that hurt in your heart and this world are the wounds that remind you you’re bleeding.
Your blood rich and thick is here to anoint the whole of life back into healing.
We have never been victims, other than in these beautiful minds that dance us.
Without victims, no perpetrators, without perpetrators, no crimes.
Without crimes, no saviour…
Only scars on this Earth that call each of us back into remembrance.
You can feel it in the way your womb receives light from the Earth and gratefully returns her own blood.
You can hear it in ecstatic birdsong, smell it in this new clean air.
You can see it in the way this bud is so ready to burst into fullness of flower.
Sister,
This bud is so ready to burst into fullness of flower.
Sister,
What will you do when you wake up one morning and realise there is no saviour?
No government, no Q, no spiritual teacher who will put right what is wrong.
No husband, no lover, no father, no son who will convince you that you belong.
Will you tear them down for your shattered expectations of a dream that was never true?
Will you search somewhere else for more packaged promises that all will be taken good care of?
Or carry the weight of your bitterness heavy on your back, that in the end no one ever came to save you?
Sister,
The places that hurt in your heart and this world are the wounds that remind you you’re bleeding.
Your blood rich and thick is here to anoint the whole of life back into healing.
We have never been victims, other than in these beautiful minds that dance us.
Without victims, no perpetrators, without perpetrators, no crimes.
Without crimes, no saviour…
Only scars on this Earth that call each of us back into remembrance.
You can feel it in the way your womb receives light from the Earth and gratefully returns her own blood.
You can hear it in ecstatic birdsong, smell it in this new clean air.
You can see it in the way this bud is so ready to burst into fullness of flower.
Sister,
This bud is so ready to burst into fullness of flower.
Envisioning the new
Whether we like it or not, most of us are seeing things in our lives and the world that we had been unable or unwilling to see in the past. It’s as if we became so used to stumbling in the dark that we began to call it day. As the light widens and more is revealed, we are being called to shift our perspectives. The world of taking sides no longer fits. We are finding truths scattered across the board, to which we have added a proliferation of stories, weaving worldviews that perpetuate separation.
Behind the blame may well be grief as we lean into the darkness of our collective unconscious. In order to trust in the transformative power of grief, we are invited to reconnect to source. To body, heart and mind, to earth and sky, to spirit and the remembrance of who we are and why we’re here.
It is through this reconnection that we can begin to envision a new life and new earth. Not in the way that came before, where visioning might have been asking for what I want. But by listening to all things, seen and unseen, and asking what wants to be born.
We have been searching for so long to own a love of our own creation, and are now being invited to remember our role as custodians of love. Where we no longer look to be filled with concepts and fulfilled by others. In caretaking love, it freely moves through us.
I am feeling to offer some free guided sessions, video rather than live for now. Using yoga and meditation to help us navigate this journey of quieting the mind, opening from grief into courage and strength, and deeply connecting to envision what is waiting to be born. They will be shared here if they manifest!
Whether we like it or not, most of us are seeing things in our lives and the world that we had been unable or unwilling to see in the past. It’s as if we became so used to stumbling in the dark that we began to call it day. As the light widens and more is revealed, we are being called to shift our perspectives. The world of taking sides no longer fits. We are finding truths scattered across the board, to which we have added a proliferation of stories, weaving worldviews that perpetuate separation.
Behind the blame may well be grief as we lean into the darkness of our collective unconscious. In order to trust in the transformative power of grief, we are invited to reconnect to source. To body, heart and mind, to earth and sky, to spirit and the remembrance of who we are and why we’re here.
It is through this reconnection that we can begin to envision a new life and new earth. Not in the way that came before, where visioning might have been asking for what I want. But by listening to all things, seen and unseen, and asking what wants to be born.
We have been searching for so long to own a love of our own creation, and are now being invited to remember our role as custodians of love. Where we no longer look to be filled with concepts and fulfilled by others. In caretaking love, it freely moves through us.
I am feeling to offer some free guided sessions, video rather than live for now. Using yoga and meditation to help us navigate this journey of quieting the mind, opening from grief into courage and strength, and deeply connecting to envision what is waiting to be born. They will be shared here if they manifest!
the river
and then there are moments when nature's beauty
reminds me once again what I know but forget
when I wrestle with stories on the banks of the river
and imagine the water to divide the two sides
so I breathe deep and full and with eyes and heart
open I enter the river, leaving certainty behind
as it carries everything always into the sea
where trust begins to grow a new kind of freedom
that’s relaxed yet ready to respond as it must
to currents of truth that emerge from the silence
while the banks are buffeted and battered by those
who shout what they believe across the waves
today I am choosing to remember who I am and
receive why I’ve come, the river my guide to the sea
and then there are moments when nature's beauty
reminds me once again what I know but forget
when I wrestle with stories on the banks of the river
and imagine the water to divide the two sides
so I breathe deep and full and with eyes and heart
open I enter the river, leaving certainty behind
as it carries everything always into the sea
where trust begins to grow a new kind of freedom
that’s relaxed yet ready to respond as it must
to currents of truth that emerge from the silence
while the banks are buffeted and battered by those
who shout what they believe across the waves
today I am choosing to remember who I am and
receive why I’ve come, the river my guide to the sea
Denial and Blame
I feel we are being offered an incredible opportunity at the moment to recognise both denial and blame as movements of war. And to grow through the courage that is required to face uncomfortable truths with an open heart.
One of many teachings that has come to me recently is the story of Malita Maschmann, who joined the Hitler Youth against her parents’ wishes and continued as an active Nazi through the war. She described herself as an idealist, rebelling against her conservative family and a status quo that was suffocating her. It was also a channel for rage and shame, simplified and directed at something that could be fixed without entering the murky waters of her personal trauma.
The example is extreme, but relevant to us in this time of major shift and change. I hear the rhetoric of blame everywhere, whether directed at science, political leaders or the Deep State, and am watching how pervasive it is in myself. The heat of anger can lead us to conflate and confuse information, which in the end only weakens our access to truth. While of course all movements of harm that arise must be recognised and prevented, the tendency to believe others (or ourselves) to be intrinsically good or evil results in still stronger lines of division between us.
On the other hand, I also notice how easy it can be to hide in denial. I see that I have been struggling to come to terms with a degree of violence and deceit in the world that has felt too uncomfortable for me to face until now. I’m no longer turning away from wanting to listen when I hear ex-servicemen speaking about the destruction they were ordered to initiate and the lies created to support going to war; when I hear about the extent of information control and manipulation in areas I assumed I could trust; when I allow for the reality of the unspeakable acts of abuse that happen every day.
I understand how intergenerational trauma perpetuates war. How mindsets of scarcity, arrogance and fear allow us to act in horrific ways when we believe there's not enough for all, we are superior, and others a threat. But I notice that I have struggled to include the extent of cold-blooded violence that exists in positions of power and the institutions of normalcy that I have been taught to trust. Where am I agreeing not to know because the truth is too disruptive to my worldview?
Sexual abuse in the church was an example that required some breakdown of the orthodoxy of the establishment itself before many people could believe the victims. Hollywood is a more recent example, where some are still choosing not to hear the truth. And it seems to go on… the media, military, banking and political structures are all showing themselves not to be the reliant father figures we might have imagined were holding our hands. Perhaps even quite the opposite.
This is a time when literally everything is coming up and out to be seen, both the light and the dark of this world. It is the nature of duality that there will be darkness and light in equal proportion: the brighter the light, the deeper the darkness. This precious Earth has the potential to be a living library that holds all dualities and their pathways to resolution through our own awakening journeys.
If it is indeed our invitation to meet darkness with wisdom and compassion in order to embody light ever more fully, it’s important to remember both of these aspects. The willingness to enter the places that are uncomfortable in the first place, and the wisdom and compassion once we do begin to open our eyes there. If instead we remain in a dualistic mindset, with hatred for the perpetrators whom we look to eliminate and shame, then others will simply take their place. For as long as we exist in duality, darkness needs to remain to hold the polar opposite position to light.
The only way a true shift can occur is by moving out of this mindset, whilst looking honestly at the play of duality through these new eyes. It's neither an invitation to spiritual bypass nor to stay in comfortable numbness, but it’s also not another excuse to go to war. Harmful actions must no longer be allowed or endorsed, yet we see beyond blame and even beyond forgiveness by genuinely recognising the larger picture at play. We come to understand that everything arises as an outer expression of our individual and collective truth, for us to see, learn from, and deepen in love.
This means that as much as violence must be revealed and prevented, it can only occur in a sustainable way if we recognise the unconscious way we make those we call evil separate from us. To bring all into the light is to bring all into oneness. In Biblical language it's knowing that Satan is also a child of God, and is the way in fact for God to know itself. That's why gratitude comes after forgiveness.
It’s such a huge ask, of course! Which is why we start right here in our own hearts and minds, in radical self-honesty and self-forgiveness. Each movement of shame met with honest seeing and loving. Gradually but naturally we grow into a genuine willingness to honour those we don’t agree with or don't yet understand. Until our individual and collective capacity expands to hold in fierce love even those who appear to harm us.
After the war, Malita Maschmann attempted to find forgiveness by writing a memoir written to her childhood best friend, a Jewish girl whom she had betrayed. But true forgiveness was only found later in the total acceptance of the Indian saint Sri Anandamaya Ma, to whom she became a devotee. Malita traveled a path from unconsciously projecting pain outwards and choosing to be blind to the atrocities she was supporting, to meeting her denial and shame and eventually receiving the healing and remembrance of unconditional love.
It's a path we can remember if we courageously choose to open both our eyes and our hearts at the same time. Clear seeing and unconditional love are the true power that we all share.
I feel we are being offered an incredible opportunity at the moment to recognise both denial and blame as movements of war. And to grow through the courage that is required to face uncomfortable truths with an open heart.
One of many teachings that has come to me recently is the story of Malita Maschmann, who joined the Hitler Youth against her parents’ wishes and continued as an active Nazi through the war. She described herself as an idealist, rebelling against her conservative family and a status quo that was suffocating her. It was also a channel for rage and shame, simplified and directed at something that could be fixed without entering the murky waters of her personal trauma.
The example is extreme, but relevant to us in this time of major shift and change. I hear the rhetoric of blame everywhere, whether directed at science, political leaders or the Deep State, and am watching how pervasive it is in myself. The heat of anger can lead us to conflate and confuse information, which in the end only weakens our access to truth. While of course all movements of harm that arise must be recognised and prevented, the tendency to believe others (or ourselves) to be intrinsically good or evil results in still stronger lines of division between us.
On the other hand, I also notice how easy it can be to hide in denial. I see that I have been struggling to come to terms with a degree of violence and deceit in the world that has felt too uncomfortable for me to face until now. I’m no longer turning away from wanting to listen when I hear ex-servicemen speaking about the destruction they were ordered to initiate and the lies created to support going to war; when I hear about the extent of information control and manipulation in areas I assumed I could trust; when I allow for the reality of the unspeakable acts of abuse that happen every day.
I understand how intergenerational trauma perpetuates war. How mindsets of scarcity, arrogance and fear allow us to act in horrific ways when we believe there's not enough for all, we are superior, and others a threat. But I notice that I have struggled to include the extent of cold-blooded violence that exists in positions of power and the institutions of normalcy that I have been taught to trust. Where am I agreeing not to know because the truth is too disruptive to my worldview?
Sexual abuse in the church was an example that required some breakdown of the orthodoxy of the establishment itself before many people could believe the victims. Hollywood is a more recent example, where some are still choosing not to hear the truth. And it seems to go on… the media, military, banking and political structures are all showing themselves not to be the reliant father figures we might have imagined were holding our hands. Perhaps even quite the opposite.
This is a time when literally everything is coming up and out to be seen, both the light and the dark of this world. It is the nature of duality that there will be darkness and light in equal proportion: the brighter the light, the deeper the darkness. This precious Earth has the potential to be a living library that holds all dualities and their pathways to resolution through our own awakening journeys.
If it is indeed our invitation to meet darkness with wisdom and compassion in order to embody light ever more fully, it’s important to remember both of these aspects. The willingness to enter the places that are uncomfortable in the first place, and the wisdom and compassion once we do begin to open our eyes there. If instead we remain in a dualistic mindset, with hatred for the perpetrators whom we look to eliminate and shame, then others will simply take their place. For as long as we exist in duality, darkness needs to remain to hold the polar opposite position to light.
The only way a true shift can occur is by moving out of this mindset, whilst looking honestly at the play of duality through these new eyes. It's neither an invitation to spiritual bypass nor to stay in comfortable numbness, but it’s also not another excuse to go to war. Harmful actions must no longer be allowed or endorsed, yet we see beyond blame and even beyond forgiveness by genuinely recognising the larger picture at play. We come to understand that everything arises as an outer expression of our individual and collective truth, for us to see, learn from, and deepen in love.
This means that as much as violence must be revealed and prevented, it can only occur in a sustainable way if we recognise the unconscious way we make those we call evil separate from us. To bring all into the light is to bring all into oneness. In Biblical language it's knowing that Satan is also a child of God, and is the way in fact for God to know itself. That's why gratitude comes after forgiveness.
It’s such a huge ask, of course! Which is why we start right here in our own hearts and minds, in radical self-honesty and self-forgiveness. Each movement of shame met with honest seeing and loving. Gradually but naturally we grow into a genuine willingness to honour those we don’t agree with or don't yet understand. Until our individual and collective capacity expands to hold in fierce love even those who appear to harm us.
After the war, Malita Maschmann attempted to find forgiveness by writing a memoir written to her childhood best friend, a Jewish girl whom she had betrayed. But true forgiveness was only found later in the total acceptance of the Indian saint Sri Anandamaya Ma, to whom she became a devotee. Malita traveled a path from unconsciously projecting pain outwards and choosing to be blind to the atrocities she was supporting, to meeting her denial and shame and eventually receiving the healing and remembrance of unconditional love.
It's a path we can remember if we courageously choose to open both our eyes and our hearts at the same time. Clear seeing and unconditional love are the true power that we all share.
Beauty
As the world shifts, and I slow down and shed skins, I am becoming mesmerised by Beauty.
I see her everywhere. A galaxy appearing at the heart of a flower, trees exploding in bright new leaf, a crystalline light I’ve never known to exist in London. She shows herself as much in the precision and grace of perfect articulation as I watch athletes in the park, as in the soft roundness of others finding different ways to live in their skin. I hear her in the miracle and passion of seasoned musicians, and in my son’s patient fingers making friends with the notes. She’s present in the myriad of ways we’re finding to make sense of this time of great change. I feel her in the grief that arrives unannounced at night, in the joy of morning, the playfulness of afternoon and the tired unravelling of evening. In the wordless delight of silent closeness with those I love.
Beauty is everywhere I choose to look and notice, showing me how she holds joy and pain with equal ease. She invites me to let suffering drop into her lap, to let it go, shed that skin and watch it dissolve. I become still, and listen to her teaching. She tells me that this is a time we can see her more clearly than ever before. In the old man’s careful steps, the quiet focus of a hospital ward, the dashed hopes and dreams of a Big Issue vendor. In cities free of smog, dolphins in Montpelier harbour, swans in Venice. She opens my eyes, and when I am no longer afraid that what hurts is not loved by her, I don’t rush passed it quite so confused and closed. I am able to linger and find Beauty in my fumbling fingers that don’t know how to give when they have no cash, Beauty holding my shame for being so blessed in a world steeped in inequality and pain. She teaches me that by seeing her everywhere in poignancy and wonder, I become a small vessel for her brightness. That when I pause, open my eyes and listen, she shows me how to act in her name.
As the world shifts, and I slow down and shed skins, I am becoming mesmerised by Beauty.
I see her everywhere. A galaxy appearing at the heart of a flower, trees exploding in bright new leaf, a crystalline light I’ve never known to exist in London. She shows herself as much in the precision and grace of perfect articulation as I watch athletes in the park, as in the soft roundness of others finding different ways to live in their skin. I hear her in the miracle and passion of seasoned musicians, and in my son’s patient fingers making friends with the notes. She’s present in the myriad of ways we’re finding to make sense of this time of great change. I feel her in the grief that arrives unannounced at night, in the joy of morning, the playfulness of afternoon and the tired unravelling of evening. In the wordless delight of silent closeness with those I love.
Beauty is everywhere I choose to look and notice, showing me how she holds joy and pain with equal ease. She invites me to let suffering drop into her lap, to let it go, shed that skin and watch it dissolve. I become still, and listen to her teaching. She tells me that this is a time we can see her more clearly than ever before. In the old man’s careful steps, the quiet focus of a hospital ward, the dashed hopes and dreams of a Big Issue vendor. In cities free of smog, dolphins in Montpelier harbour, swans in Venice. She opens my eyes, and when I am no longer afraid that what hurts is not loved by her, I don’t rush passed it quite so confused and closed. I am able to linger and find Beauty in my fumbling fingers that don’t know how to give when they have no cash, Beauty holding my shame for being so blessed in a world steeped in inequality and pain. She teaches me that by seeing her everywhere in poignancy and wonder, I become a small vessel for her brightness. That when I pause, open my eyes and listen, she shows me how to act in her name.
Please do not tell me what to believe my friend
Do you not see that there have been as many stories to describe reality as there have been cultures through time? And as many nuances and flavours within those stories as there are human beings?
My own story today is this. That in this quantum field we are energetic beings playing in multiple timelines and realities. Whatever story we choose to inhabit is a holographic projection of our internal reality, and as such it is always absolutely real. It is the playground we have chosen to play in; the classroom we have chosen to learn in. The environment in which we might best meet our own darkness and light. The story through which life will reveal to us our self-hatred, shame, fear and arrogance, with the invitation to love, liberate and fall into yet another version of reality. Equally real and true. Forever inviting us to dive deeper into our inner demons and shadows until there is no longer a need for their outer projections to bring them into the light.
Each version of truth is perfect in as far as it serves as a mirror and a map, for as long as we remember that the compass to navigate this terrain is love.
I am learning to bow to your story. I tell you my own not to persuade you, but only to share this mysterious changing self with you. When you see my story, you see more deeply into me. When I see your story, I see more of you, and I am learning too to love and honour you exactly where you are, from a place boundaried by the laws of love.
Tomorrow is another day, and perhaps will be another story. But it will always be one that takes us into ever deepening love, whatever the paths we choose to travel.
Do you not see that there have been as many stories to describe reality as there have been cultures through time? And as many nuances and flavours within those stories as there are human beings?
My own story today is this. That in this quantum field we are energetic beings playing in multiple timelines and realities. Whatever story we choose to inhabit is a holographic projection of our internal reality, and as such it is always absolutely real. It is the playground we have chosen to play in; the classroom we have chosen to learn in. The environment in which we might best meet our own darkness and light. The story through which life will reveal to us our self-hatred, shame, fear and arrogance, with the invitation to love, liberate and fall into yet another version of reality. Equally real and true. Forever inviting us to dive deeper into our inner demons and shadows until there is no longer a need for their outer projections to bring them into the light.
Each version of truth is perfect in as far as it serves as a mirror and a map, for as long as we remember that the compass to navigate this terrain is love.
I am learning to bow to your story. I tell you my own not to persuade you, but only to share this mysterious changing self with you. When you see my story, you see more deeply into me. When I see your story, I see more of you, and I am learning too to love and honour you exactly where you are, from a place boundaried by the laws of love.
Tomorrow is another day, and perhaps will be another story. But it will always be one that takes us into ever deepening love, whatever the paths we choose to travel.
Free and Abundant
He is birthing into non-attachment
as he recognises love’s inherent freedom
She is growing into unconditionality
as she learns to honour love’s abundance
But his final attachment
is to the idea of freedom itself
And her final condition
is to love her own scarcity
Over lifetimes they lean into love’s abyss
choosing flavours of freedom and safety
in place of surrendering to a truth
that dissolves all ideas and beliefs
The truth that love lives within as an
ever unfolding rainbow palate
where they are the paintbrushes
and the whole of life is a sacred canvas
The truth that this heart is already free
even in stillness and simple monotony
and this womb holds all of life
even the longing to be the one held
It takes lifetimes to see that this truth
is not found by acquiescing to another
but by entering the suffering and finding
the pearl of illusion that was hidden within
And there, with nowhere to go
and nothing to do but plant new seeds
and tend to them fiercely, whatever it takes
Love perpetuates freely and abundantly
In infinite arrays of colour and form.
He is birthing into non-attachment
as he recognises love’s inherent freedom
She is growing into unconditionality
as she learns to honour love’s abundance
But his final attachment
is to the idea of freedom itself
And her final condition
is to love her own scarcity
Over lifetimes they lean into love’s abyss
choosing flavours of freedom and safety
in place of surrendering to a truth
that dissolves all ideas and beliefs
The truth that love lives within as an
ever unfolding rainbow palate
where they are the paintbrushes
and the whole of life is a sacred canvas
The truth that this heart is already free
even in stillness and simple monotony
and this womb holds all of life
even the longing to be the one held
It takes lifetimes to see that this truth
is not found by acquiescing to another
but by entering the suffering and finding
the pearl of illusion that was hidden within
And there, with nowhere to go
and nothing to do but plant new seeds
and tend to them fiercely, whatever it takes
Love perpetuates freely and abundantly
In infinite arrays of colour and form.
The noise in the village has grown so loud!
The crops have failed, it was the Mayor’s fault, he bought the seeds from Claude who made a great offer and is now selling the cure, so Janet is saying they’re trying to control us and Viktor has found that the soil has no nutrients while Preeti discovered the crops have a fungal infection that Charles believes was delivered at night by Margaret who has spoken to someone who knows for sure that Jack destroyed the crops himself to get rid of the Mayor and save them all, and Jack knew nothing would ever change in the face of such ignorance and greed…
Meanwhile on a rooftop sits an old woman and a young boy gazing at the mountain and moon. They remember who they are. Everything has already been said without a single word. So they climb down from the roof to attend to the man who is sick, the girl who is crying, the mother with her new born baby. Wherever they walk, a stillness settles, and the villagers find themselves looking up. Stunned out of their dream state they see their stories might all have been true, but none of it mattered. It’s already forgiven by the mountain and moon.
After the stillness comes tears, and after the tears a silent listening to the stories of personal longing and suffering that move like clouds through the sky. And the Mayor reflects that perhaps quality is better than quantity, even for his own posterity, while Claude realises that money exists in kindness too and develops a system to listen and share between villages in peace and reconciliation called Woom. Janet recognises that nothing and nobody can control her intention to act from kindness, and Viktor introduces crop rotation to improve the soil, working with Preeti to strengthen the ecosystem and ward off the fungus. Charles and Margaret decide they no longer wish to look elsewhere for mystery and look to the earth and sky instead of their nightly smoke. While Jack understands that the question to ask is not what might they do when all this is over, but what will I do that expresses my truth?
On top of the roof, the old woman and young boy hear laughter at night and gentle murmurs of the mystery of living, as they rest in awe and wonder at the feet of the mountain and moon.
The crops have failed, it was the Mayor’s fault, he bought the seeds from Claude who made a great offer and is now selling the cure, so Janet is saying they’re trying to control us and Viktor has found that the soil has no nutrients while Preeti discovered the crops have a fungal infection that Charles believes was delivered at night by Margaret who has spoken to someone who knows for sure that Jack destroyed the crops himself to get rid of the Mayor and save them all, and Jack knew nothing would ever change in the face of such ignorance and greed…
Meanwhile on a rooftop sits an old woman and a young boy gazing at the mountain and moon. They remember who they are. Everything has already been said without a single word. So they climb down from the roof to attend to the man who is sick, the girl who is crying, the mother with her new born baby. Wherever they walk, a stillness settles, and the villagers find themselves looking up. Stunned out of their dream state they see their stories might all have been true, but none of it mattered. It’s already forgiven by the mountain and moon.
After the stillness comes tears, and after the tears a silent listening to the stories of personal longing and suffering that move like clouds through the sky. And the Mayor reflects that perhaps quality is better than quantity, even for his own posterity, while Claude realises that money exists in kindness too and develops a system to listen and share between villages in peace and reconciliation called Woom. Janet recognises that nothing and nobody can control her intention to act from kindness, and Viktor introduces crop rotation to improve the soil, working with Preeti to strengthen the ecosystem and ward off the fungus. Charles and Margaret decide they no longer wish to look elsewhere for mystery and look to the earth and sky instead of their nightly smoke. While Jack understands that the question to ask is not what might they do when all this is over, but what will I do that expresses my truth?
On top of the roof, the old woman and young boy hear laughter at night and gentle murmurs of the mystery of living, as they rest in awe and wonder at the feet of the mountain and moon.
Let’s leave no argument behind
In this age of technology, You Tube has become the new church, and Facebook the new bible, quoting passionately from elusive sources. We are forever human beings searching for meaning and certainty in a chaotic and changing world. If it helps to soothe and provides reference, the search remains innocent. But violence emerges when we believe our version of reality to be a definitive truth. When we invest in right and wrong, in them and us.
Unsurprisingly this blame narrative is woven into many current versions of “pandemic reality”. Creations of war, in the language of good vs evil. Even as stories shift and change and prophesies show themselves to have been empty promises, many maintain allegiances to their chosen club and choose to shift to a new or updated version.
What is behind these movements of mind we have been losing ourselves in for so long? Do we create these narratives so as not to fall into the void of not knowing? In order to avoid feelings of grief and powerlessness in this sea of Samsara’s recklessness? Do we maintain allegiance to our chosen identity in order to belong? We can only begin these profound and humbling reflections when we soften the certainty with which we believe we know.
I’m finding a middle way in the red pill – blue pill debate. It’s a path that is gifted in Matrix itself, inviting us to take no pill at all, and skip straight to the end of the film. Where we remember we are entirely free in our capacity to respond to violence of any form with either integrity and love, or argument and war, and that is our true power. We remember that anything outside of our direct experience is a story – maybe true, maybe not – and what matters most is that the ground of not knowing is fertile soil for forgiveness and love.
Even though those who worship the blue call me irresponsible when I do not fear, and those who choose to preach at the altar of the red call me a sheep asleep when I smile at these realities too – I no longer mind what names I’m called. I feel gratitude in the lightness of a heart at peace in presence, and committed to responsibility in action. I am humbled by the invitation right now to forgive and allow. In the end, when all else falls away, isn’t the hatred of those who believe a different story the root of all war in all time? Otherwise even in scarcity we will share with our family.
In a world of change, the only certainty of life is death. Our passage here may be colourful but it’s certainly fleeting. Like the rose that blooms passionately but briefly before returning to soil and seed – I too wish to give this one wild heart to life in love alone, and leave no argument behind.
In this age of technology, You Tube has become the new church, and Facebook the new bible, quoting passionately from elusive sources. We are forever human beings searching for meaning and certainty in a chaotic and changing world. If it helps to soothe and provides reference, the search remains innocent. But violence emerges when we believe our version of reality to be a definitive truth. When we invest in right and wrong, in them and us.
Unsurprisingly this blame narrative is woven into many current versions of “pandemic reality”. Creations of war, in the language of good vs evil. Even as stories shift and change and prophesies show themselves to have been empty promises, many maintain allegiances to their chosen club and choose to shift to a new or updated version.
What is behind these movements of mind we have been losing ourselves in for so long? Do we create these narratives so as not to fall into the void of not knowing? In order to avoid feelings of grief and powerlessness in this sea of Samsara’s recklessness? Do we maintain allegiance to our chosen identity in order to belong? We can only begin these profound and humbling reflections when we soften the certainty with which we believe we know.
I’m finding a middle way in the red pill – blue pill debate. It’s a path that is gifted in Matrix itself, inviting us to take no pill at all, and skip straight to the end of the film. Where we remember we are entirely free in our capacity to respond to violence of any form with either integrity and love, or argument and war, and that is our true power. We remember that anything outside of our direct experience is a story – maybe true, maybe not – and what matters most is that the ground of not knowing is fertile soil for forgiveness and love.
Even though those who worship the blue call me irresponsible when I do not fear, and those who choose to preach at the altar of the red call me a sheep asleep when I smile at these realities too – I no longer mind what names I’m called. I feel gratitude in the lightness of a heart at peace in presence, and committed to responsibility in action. I am humbled by the invitation right now to forgive and allow. In the end, when all else falls away, isn’t the hatred of those who believe a different story the root of all war in all time? Otherwise even in scarcity we will share with our family.
In a world of change, the only certainty of life is death. Our passage here may be colourful but it’s certainly fleeting. Like the rose that blooms passionately but briefly before returning to soil and seed – I too wish to give this one wild heart to life in love alone, and leave no argument behind.
Sisters!
Can I say, first, how much I celebrate all of you giving your body heart and mind to caring for others each day? Facial bruising from hospital masks, impossible hours of service, holding the fear and suffering of so many. I see you and love you.
But I also want to sing from the rooftops today for the incredible women I have been speaking to (men, of course you are out there too!) who have been equally courageously choosing the work of inner care and transformation at this time. You extraordinary women who have chosen not to distract, divert, numb or placate in your isolation, and have lovingly met SO MUCH with open arms! Fear, self-loathing, grief, anger. Young parts scrambling to hold on to the prince/father/saviour story even as it crumbles to dust. Shame and repression breaking free from chains as you stay still each day with nowhere to go and nothing to do. You are sharing unnameable joy as your intelligence, wisdom, sexual and creative powers burst forward!
For those of you deep in the mud in this moment, believing you’ll drown in the fear, confusion, grief or anger bubbling up – I hope I am able to share my unshakeable trust in this process of sacred surrender? I have been there too, again and again, and these last weeks of illness were the deepest dive yet. But each and every time I emerge lighter and freer and more crazily in love with myself, and you, and all of life! These are energies asking to be released, which can only happen by finally feeling them fully.
We are learning to stand, sisters, truly, in all of our mystery and grace.
I love you and honour you and celebrate each one of you so very much!
Can I say, first, how much I celebrate all of you giving your body heart and mind to caring for others each day? Facial bruising from hospital masks, impossible hours of service, holding the fear and suffering of so many. I see you and love you.
But I also want to sing from the rooftops today for the incredible women I have been speaking to (men, of course you are out there too!) who have been equally courageously choosing the work of inner care and transformation at this time. You extraordinary women who have chosen not to distract, divert, numb or placate in your isolation, and have lovingly met SO MUCH with open arms! Fear, self-loathing, grief, anger. Young parts scrambling to hold on to the prince/father/saviour story even as it crumbles to dust. Shame and repression breaking free from chains as you stay still each day with nowhere to go and nothing to do. You are sharing unnameable joy as your intelligence, wisdom, sexual and creative powers burst forward!
For those of you deep in the mud in this moment, believing you’ll drown in the fear, confusion, grief or anger bubbling up – I hope I am able to share my unshakeable trust in this process of sacred surrender? I have been there too, again and again, and these last weeks of illness were the deepest dive yet. But each and every time I emerge lighter and freer and more crazily in love with myself, and you, and all of life! These are energies asking to be released, which can only happen by finally feeling them fully.
We are learning to stand, sisters, truly, in all of our mystery and grace.
I love you and honour you and celebrate each one of you so very much!
Coming Home
It began long ago. Somewhere in our hearts we remember when we severed ourselves from the tree of wisdom. Our feet remember the feel of rich soil, high mountains and dry savannah. Our ears recognise the messages from wind, animals and trees. Somewhere within we remember being connected to the cosmos, woven into the web of all things, receiving life force and wisdom as well as blood through our veins.
Wrenched from the womb of creation, severed from our knowing, we became like hungry ghosts wandering the land. Lost, afraid and clambering ever more violently to the security of this precious mind. Holding ever more tightly to the safety of a knowledge accumulated, stored, collected and owned, yet devoid of the knowing that unites us. We have carried the weight of our knowledge, possessions and identity heavy around our necks. The ship is sinking but we will not throw our burdens overboard for fear of nothing left. We demand a return to the Garden of Eden to possess that too. To analyse, understand and own it as yet another empty reflection of our empty selves.
It is not the Garden that is lost, it is us. Severed from its roots, branches and leaves, from the spirits of the land, mountains, sky and countless other creatures and beings that patiently wait and whisper to us still. It is not for us to save them: they have been waiting for us to save ourselves. We have been lost for so long, but the arms of the cosmos are always open, calling us to return through the language of our own suffering. Clumsily we stumble, fall down and stand up, growing in courage through each of our scars. The courage to drop the shield of cleverness and war that we hide behind. To let ourselves feel our nakedness not as a threat but as an invitation to fall back into the cosmos. Not to return to what was before, but to weave ourselves into the sacred web this time as one family. To bring forward the voice of woman, the voices of diversity, the wisdom of unity.
As a hungry ghost, staggering heartbroken through a cold, dead universe, Covid19 is yet another enemy to fight. A reason to retreat further into the safety of defence and control. Can we take a deep breath and allow ourselves to relax enough to widen into all that is true right now? To include the tragedy of death, loss, destruction and chaos, side by side with the allure of fear, denial, extreme control or cold irresponsibility? There may be negligence in some parts of the world where economic gain is held supreme. And hyper vigilance in others, where obedient citizens are monitored each moment in impeccably sterile isolation. Are these polarities the result of so effectively severing ourselves from wholeness, that all we have left is our sense of self and personal power to protect at all cost? How much aliveness or sanctity of life are we willing to sacrifice to maintain an illusion of control over this one life and death we imagine we own?
Please don’t misunderstand. I am not suggesting that what we are doing is in any way wrong, we are all feeling our way in the dark. I am not alluding to conspiracy, cover up or Trojan horse theories. Whether true or false they feel to me to be irrelevant to the work at hand. All I know is that I have been ill for 3 weeks, and the virus inside me is not something to go to war with. No mountain, desert or jungle retreat has taught me so much. Nothing has asked me to surrender and listen so deeply. The pandemic sweeping the planet is not separate from us, that, at least, must now be clear? This virus is an initiator, showing us ourselves with shocking clarity. It is inviting us to stop, drop our luggage, and listen to who we are and how we can heal. Asking us to reweave ourselves back into the fabric of a universe that never left us. If we listen and open to the complexity of this moment, the suffering of many, our responsibility and possibility, our fears, hopes and longings, we might even hear that it’s calling us home.
It began long ago. Somewhere in our hearts we remember when we severed ourselves from the tree of wisdom. Our feet remember the feel of rich soil, high mountains and dry savannah. Our ears recognise the messages from wind, animals and trees. Somewhere within we remember being connected to the cosmos, woven into the web of all things, receiving life force and wisdom as well as blood through our veins.
Wrenched from the womb of creation, severed from our knowing, we became like hungry ghosts wandering the land. Lost, afraid and clambering ever more violently to the security of this precious mind. Holding ever more tightly to the safety of a knowledge accumulated, stored, collected and owned, yet devoid of the knowing that unites us. We have carried the weight of our knowledge, possessions and identity heavy around our necks. The ship is sinking but we will not throw our burdens overboard for fear of nothing left. We demand a return to the Garden of Eden to possess that too. To analyse, understand and own it as yet another empty reflection of our empty selves.
It is not the Garden that is lost, it is us. Severed from its roots, branches and leaves, from the spirits of the land, mountains, sky and countless other creatures and beings that patiently wait and whisper to us still. It is not for us to save them: they have been waiting for us to save ourselves. We have been lost for so long, but the arms of the cosmos are always open, calling us to return through the language of our own suffering. Clumsily we stumble, fall down and stand up, growing in courage through each of our scars. The courage to drop the shield of cleverness and war that we hide behind. To let ourselves feel our nakedness not as a threat but as an invitation to fall back into the cosmos. Not to return to what was before, but to weave ourselves into the sacred web this time as one family. To bring forward the voice of woman, the voices of diversity, the wisdom of unity.
As a hungry ghost, staggering heartbroken through a cold, dead universe, Covid19 is yet another enemy to fight. A reason to retreat further into the safety of defence and control. Can we take a deep breath and allow ourselves to relax enough to widen into all that is true right now? To include the tragedy of death, loss, destruction and chaos, side by side with the allure of fear, denial, extreme control or cold irresponsibility? There may be negligence in some parts of the world where economic gain is held supreme. And hyper vigilance in others, where obedient citizens are monitored each moment in impeccably sterile isolation. Are these polarities the result of so effectively severing ourselves from wholeness, that all we have left is our sense of self and personal power to protect at all cost? How much aliveness or sanctity of life are we willing to sacrifice to maintain an illusion of control over this one life and death we imagine we own?
Please don’t misunderstand. I am not suggesting that what we are doing is in any way wrong, we are all feeling our way in the dark. I am not alluding to conspiracy, cover up or Trojan horse theories. Whether true or false they feel to me to be irrelevant to the work at hand. All I know is that I have been ill for 3 weeks, and the virus inside me is not something to go to war with. No mountain, desert or jungle retreat has taught me so much. Nothing has asked me to surrender and listen so deeply. The pandemic sweeping the planet is not separate from us, that, at least, must now be clear? This virus is an initiator, showing us ourselves with shocking clarity. It is inviting us to stop, drop our luggage, and listen to who we are and how we can heal. Asking us to reweave ourselves back into the fabric of a universe that never left us. If we listen and open to the complexity of this moment, the suffering of many, our responsibility and possibility, our fears, hopes and longings, we might even hear that it’s calling us home.
just this
I have never known so little
yet understood so much
surrendered to feelings
yet connected to soul
popping beliefs like bubbles
the sun and the sky remain
I have never known so little
yet understood so much
surrendered to feelings
yet connected to soul
popping beliefs like bubbles
the sun and the sky remain
Human Chrysalis
I wonder if the journey from caterpillar, through chrysalis, to butterfly might have something to teach us in these times?
The entire orientation of the caterpillar is around consumption. It consumes up to 300 times its body weight per day and is oblivious to the impact on that which sustains it. As the chrysalis forms, the caterpillar becomes still and allows everything it has known itself to be to dissolve. It is a time of complete reorganisation, inner and outer. When it emerges as a butterfly, it has transformed into an offering of beauty and pollination. It’s a metaphor for the transformation from the enslavement of consumption to the freedom of service.
Circumstances have demanded that we enter a chrysalis stage of our human evolution. And it seems that we are collectively asking questions about how we lived only weeks ago. About what really matters. In this new reality, how can we be of service? I am seeing so many beautiful people offering themselves to the world in ways they had held back before. Others becoming still and listening patiently to hear what is true and wants to emerge now. We are being given the opportunity to find authenticity. To remember that we are each called to be one part of the body of humanity. We each have our sacred place in the collective, whether expressed through doing or being.
Have you noticed the re-evaluation occurring around what is important and valued? Where has our applause been in the past, for the nurses, carers, teachers, shopkeepers and street cleaners of our world? How have we supported and honoured those who remain in stillness or silence, as they maintain a lifeline to Presence for others to draw on whether consciously or not? Will those who have led us in our frenzy of consumption also be able to be our guides as we emerge into an era of service?
When it surrenders to the chrysalis, there is no part of the caterpillar that remains intact. It is not that it becomes quiet to reflect how to be different in the world, re-branding itself with wings. We can’t think our way from consumption to service, but are invited to do the messy work of inner transformation. Many of us are feeling powerful and rapidly shifting emotions these days. The ancients are reminding us to become still. To recognise these strong emotions as invitations to completely embrace, surrender into, and finally feel our feelings. To meet the hungry ghost within that had once consumed in order to numb. Or had projected these feelings onto others in order to blame.
Our human chrysalis is inviting us to become still and feel everything that reveals itself. Without story or distraction. Beyond right and wrong. To feel fully, whether by allowing this bodily presence to simply be and move through us. Or whether through expressing what is felt creatively. Noticing how quickly we move to shift or disguise the feeling. This is the feminine principle: just be, like the caterpillar in its chrysalis, as loving presence allows what once drove and directed us, to be free to come and go within us with ease.
What this might look like eventually is the end of victimhood and domination. The end of the games we have been playing with each other and the world to hide from what hurts. The emergence of authenticity and sovereignty, as we become “rooted deeply within what cannot fall apart” (I love these words by John de Ruiter). But this New Earth is not something that happens to us. It is something we co-create with the universe. Perhaps those of us fortunate to have the capacity to reflect and practice can honour the destruction and suffering occurring right now by inviting it to transform us? Becoming still, surrendering into feeling what’s lurking in our depths. Discovering the stories we were carrying, and looking with brutal honesty at the places we were asking others to reflect back validity, worth and value. Like the butterfly, we are all actually free. And our wings are really quite beautiful, even when torn.
And on the way there, friends, can we be kind to ourselves and each other? Let’s be gentle and forgiving as we recognise our own and each other’s hypocrisy and imperfections. Let’s not believe the stories of judgement, inner and outer, too much. We are so incredibly fortunate to have the luxury to self-isolate, to have shelter, water and food. To have each other and our practices. Perhaps this deep breath we take now, and the kindness we exhale, is itself a profound offering of service to this world?
I wonder if the journey from caterpillar, through chrysalis, to butterfly might have something to teach us in these times?
The entire orientation of the caterpillar is around consumption. It consumes up to 300 times its body weight per day and is oblivious to the impact on that which sustains it. As the chrysalis forms, the caterpillar becomes still and allows everything it has known itself to be to dissolve. It is a time of complete reorganisation, inner and outer. When it emerges as a butterfly, it has transformed into an offering of beauty and pollination. It’s a metaphor for the transformation from the enslavement of consumption to the freedom of service.
Circumstances have demanded that we enter a chrysalis stage of our human evolution. And it seems that we are collectively asking questions about how we lived only weeks ago. About what really matters. In this new reality, how can we be of service? I am seeing so many beautiful people offering themselves to the world in ways they had held back before. Others becoming still and listening patiently to hear what is true and wants to emerge now. We are being given the opportunity to find authenticity. To remember that we are each called to be one part of the body of humanity. We each have our sacred place in the collective, whether expressed through doing or being.
Have you noticed the re-evaluation occurring around what is important and valued? Where has our applause been in the past, for the nurses, carers, teachers, shopkeepers and street cleaners of our world? How have we supported and honoured those who remain in stillness or silence, as they maintain a lifeline to Presence for others to draw on whether consciously or not? Will those who have led us in our frenzy of consumption also be able to be our guides as we emerge into an era of service?
When it surrenders to the chrysalis, there is no part of the caterpillar that remains intact. It is not that it becomes quiet to reflect how to be different in the world, re-branding itself with wings. We can’t think our way from consumption to service, but are invited to do the messy work of inner transformation. Many of us are feeling powerful and rapidly shifting emotions these days. The ancients are reminding us to become still. To recognise these strong emotions as invitations to completely embrace, surrender into, and finally feel our feelings. To meet the hungry ghost within that had once consumed in order to numb. Or had projected these feelings onto others in order to blame.
Our human chrysalis is inviting us to become still and feel everything that reveals itself. Without story or distraction. Beyond right and wrong. To feel fully, whether by allowing this bodily presence to simply be and move through us. Or whether through expressing what is felt creatively. Noticing how quickly we move to shift or disguise the feeling. This is the feminine principle: just be, like the caterpillar in its chrysalis, as loving presence allows what once drove and directed us, to be free to come and go within us with ease.
What this might look like eventually is the end of victimhood and domination. The end of the games we have been playing with each other and the world to hide from what hurts. The emergence of authenticity and sovereignty, as we become “rooted deeply within what cannot fall apart” (I love these words by John de Ruiter). But this New Earth is not something that happens to us. It is something we co-create with the universe. Perhaps those of us fortunate to have the capacity to reflect and practice can honour the destruction and suffering occurring right now by inviting it to transform us? Becoming still, surrendering into feeling what’s lurking in our depths. Discovering the stories we were carrying, and looking with brutal honesty at the places we were asking others to reflect back validity, worth and value. Like the butterfly, we are all actually free. And our wings are really quite beautiful, even when torn.
And on the way there, friends, can we be kind to ourselves and each other? Let’s be gentle and forgiving as we recognise our own and each other’s hypocrisy and imperfections. Let’s not believe the stories of judgement, inner and outer, too much. We are so incredibly fortunate to have the luxury to self-isolate, to have shelter, water and food. To have each other and our practices. Perhaps this deep breath we take now, and the kindness we exhale, is itself a profound offering of service to this world?
Earthquake
These days I am like the Earth in the middle of an earthquake. Breaking open. Surrendering to the tremors. Knowing something new will grow from the deep soil exposed.
My body is mostly healed, but I am stripped bare. At every turn I hear “Stop. This is not the time to do, or know. You are still shedding the old, my love. Trust in this unravelling.” I have no choice but to surrender to the Earth that I have become, as she shudders. I cannot, right now, be an online offering of what was before, packaged in brand-new clothes. I am sorry I can’t support you in that way; am grateful to the beautiful souls who are there instead.
But perhaps I can be of support simply by sharing the silence? By trusting this path of death and rebirth. By becoming like the Earth, still and receptive, as ancient anger and grief shake through me. As shadows are surrendered from their secret corners and I am stretched so thin under the sun that I no longer know who I am. Because I do know that unless we die to ourselves now, we will find the old world we thought we had left behind returning with force in a brand-new guise.
In this moment, I want to not know who I am so I can let the Earth show me who I can become. As new shoots break through the compost of my old stories and well protected pockets of pain. We’ve been speaking of the feminine rising for so long, and perhaps imagined her to be princess-pretty. But she’s darker and wilder than that. Her fire is all-consuming as we enter this sacred void. She asks us only to surrender and not know. With patience, receptivity, and the courage to let our history and ancestry move through us and out of us like lava erupting from an ancient place.
The feminine is rising within us all and is ready to burn what no longer serves us. If you feel the calling, I invite you to simply listen. Stop. This is not the time to do, or know. You are still shedding the old, my love. Trust in this unravelling.
These days I am like the Earth in the middle of an earthquake. Breaking open. Surrendering to the tremors. Knowing something new will grow from the deep soil exposed.
My body is mostly healed, but I am stripped bare. At every turn I hear “Stop. This is not the time to do, or know. You are still shedding the old, my love. Trust in this unravelling.” I have no choice but to surrender to the Earth that I have become, as she shudders. I cannot, right now, be an online offering of what was before, packaged in brand-new clothes. I am sorry I can’t support you in that way; am grateful to the beautiful souls who are there instead.
But perhaps I can be of support simply by sharing the silence? By trusting this path of death and rebirth. By becoming like the Earth, still and receptive, as ancient anger and grief shake through me. As shadows are surrendered from their secret corners and I am stretched so thin under the sun that I no longer know who I am. Because I do know that unless we die to ourselves now, we will find the old world we thought we had left behind returning with force in a brand-new guise.
In this moment, I want to not know who I am so I can let the Earth show me who I can become. As new shoots break through the compost of my old stories and well protected pockets of pain. We’ve been speaking of the feminine rising for so long, and perhaps imagined her to be princess-pretty. But she’s darker and wilder than that. Her fire is all-consuming as we enter this sacred void. She asks us only to surrender and not know. With patience, receptivity, and the courage to let our history and ancestry move through us and out of us like lava erupting from an ancient place.
The feminine is rising within us all and is ready to burn what no longer serves us. If you feel the calling, I invite you to simply listen. Stop. This is not the time to do, or know. You are still shedding the old, my love. Trust in this unravelling.
We have been preparing for this...
My heart goes out to so many in the world today. To those of you I know, and many more I don’t know, working on the frontline. To those of you I have spoken to in Italy, already several weeks into quarantine. My friend sick at home in lockdown in Venice; another in hospital in Bologna. My friends who are bankrupt, others self employed with no income at all. Tiny touchstones of connection in a sea of very real suffering.
This virus for me is now all in my lungs. I feel every breath. In Chinese medicine, the lungs store grief and grow courage. I find myself grieving old pockets of unshed tears as my lungs shed ravaged cells. Grief for the collective suffering, for the years we have been asleep or unkind, and forgot to say thank you, I love you. Grief for this Earth as her own lungs begin to breathe again. It feels insignificant to put pen to paper, so meaningless in the face of now. But I know, too, that we have been preparing for this, in ways that may not be obvious. I am moved to share the feeling that this moment is both radical and also nothing new.
Because we have been preparing for this. Do you remember how many times we have remembered to pause together? To make a clearing in the dense forest of the mind? The many times we caught ourselves locked in mental fixation and learned to unhook? Can you see how often we have practiced coming into the body, only to lose ourselves in thought, and come back again? How many times have we found ourselves entangled in stories of blame or shame, frozen in fear, or at the mercy of distraction? And practiced then, with each other’s support, returning to the body, this breath, the heart, this feeling.
We have been preparing for this for years. Do you remember how we freed up anger from the shackles of suppression and the violence of reaction? Can you feel the power and empathy that has grown inside you from each time you honoured the energy that said “no” to violation whilst recognising the ignorance and suffering behind the violence? Do you feel the seed of compassion that has lain dormant through Winter and is bursting forward now with the Spring?
We have been preparing for this my friends. The fear once stored in our kidneys, the small voices of separation, have been finding new belonging for years now. We have been growing roots into Earth, opening our crowns to Sky, honouring ancestors, feeling each other’s truth. We have been remembering the web that holds us, that every action matters, that every gift is needed. How many times did we discover that when we let fear hold us we become frozen and contract into separateness - but when we hold fear lovingly we remember our wholeness?
We have been doing our work, dissolving old stories, releasing trapped feelings, healing. We have been finding the noble courage to grieve our own losses and open our hearts. Discovering the strength of vulnerability, the interconnectedness of sovereignty. Now is the time where our individual journeys are shifting to a collective one. The rising up of collective fear; the ocean of collective grief trapped in countless lungs, finally releasing.
We have the tools, friends, to navigate through the storm. To drop deeper than the waves of the mind, even as they rise and fall. To listen from the depth to receive the harmonious and discordant chords that make up the song of this moment, even as we feel afraid. To allow the currents of these feelings to move through us, even as we believe we will be swept away. To remember we are the ocean, whose water is love. Always and only love. And in being the ocean, the torrent of anger and violence will point us to the fear beneath it. The contraction of fear will reveal our collective grief. And the tsunami of grief coming our way will return us to the heart of love.
We have been preparing for this. Now is the time to practice everything we have been learning, remembering the depth of joy and freedom it has brought into our life! How much we have changed, and are changing the lives around us! We are ready, now, and practicing together, for and with everyone, as we sail through this storm, and into the light of our times.
I am feeling each one of you. I want to say thank you, I love you.
My heart goes out to so many in the world today. To those of you I know, and many more I don’t know, working on the frontline. To those of you I have spoken to in Italy, already several weeks into quarantine. My friend sick at home in lockdown in Venice; another in hospital in Bologna. My friends who are bankrupt, others self employed with no income at all. Tiny touchstones of connection in a sea of very real suffering.
This virus for me is now all in my lungs. I feel every breath. In Chinese medicine, the lungs store grief and grow courage. I find myself grieving old pockets of unshed tears as my lungs shed ravaged cells. Grief for the collective suffering, for the years we have been asleep or unkind, and forgot to say thank you, I love you. Grief for this Earth as her own lungs begin to breathe again. It feels insignificant to put pen to paper, so meaningless in the face of now. But I know, too, that we have been preparing for this, in ways that may not be obvious. I am moved to share the feeling that this moment is both radical and also nothing new.
Because we have been preparing for this. Do you remember how many times we have remembered to pause together? To make a clearing in the dense forest of the mind? The many times we caught ourselves locked in mental fixation and learned to unhook? Can you see how often we have practiced coming into the body, only to lose ourselves in thought, and come back again? How many times have we found ourselves entangled in stories of blame or shame, frozen in fear, or at the mercy of distraction? And practiced then, with each other’s support, returning to the body, this breath, the heart, this feeling.
We have been preparing for this for years. Do you remember how we freed up anger from the shackles of suppression and the violence of reaction? Can you feel the power and empathy that has grown inside you from each time you honoured the energy that said “no” to violation whilst recognising the ignorance and suffering behind the violence? Do you feel the seed of compassion that has lain dormant through Winter and is bursting forward now with the Spring?
We have been preparing for this my friends. The fear once stored in our kidneys, the small voices of separation, have been finding new belonging for years now. We have been growing roots into Earth, opening our crowns to Sky, honouring ancestors, feeling each other’s truth. We have been remembering the web that holds us, that every action matters, that every gift is needed. How many times did we discover that when we let fear hold us we become frozen and contract into separateness - but when we hold fear lovingly we remember our wholeness?
We have been doing our work, dissolving old stories, releasing trapped feelings, healing. We have been finding the noble courage to grieve our own losses and open our hearts. Discovering the strength of vulnerability, the interconnectedness of sovereignty. Now is the time where our individual journeys are shifting to a collective one. The rising up of collective fear; the ocean of collective grief trapped in countless lungs, finally releasing.
We have the tools, friends, to navigate through the storm. To drop deeper than the waves of the mind, even as they rise and fall. To listen from the depth to receive the harmonious and discordant chords that make up the song of this moment, even as we feel afraid. To allow the currents of these feelings to move through us, even as we believe we will be swept away. To remember we are the ocean, whose water is love. Always and only love. And in being the ocean, the torrent of anger and violence will point us to the fear beneath it. The contraction of fear will reveal our collective grief. And the tsunami of grief coming our way will return us to the heart of love.
We have been preparing for this. Now is the time to practice everything we have been learning, remembering the depth of joy and freedom it has brought into our life! How much we have changed, and are changing the lives around us! We are ready, now, and practicing together, for and with everyone, as we sail through this storm, and into the light of our times.
I am feeling each one of you. I want to say thank you, I love you.
Lessons from a Virus
When fever and muscle aches first arrived with tightness in my chest, I was surprised to feel palpable relief. That something unknown, yet inevitable, will come our way is the truth of each day, yet most often disguised with a fictitious sense of control. So, there I was, grateful for the invitation to return to my body. The familiarity of immune response, the surrender to biology.
Deep dive over the next few days as I submerged into the timeless space of a body busy with what it knows best. Survival. A moment’s respite from the “should-ing” mind. Gentle support for this body’s noble work: warm teas and broths, the great gift of restorative yoga to open the lungs, rest.
What surprised me is what happened as I first began to surface from this depth, and heard news of the storms ravaging the minds of this world. How quickly I jumped back into being the saviour. There’s confusion and pain, these times are critical, I’m needed – I have to do something. I have to understand, figure this out, get it right, do the right thing, make it all ok out there. It was a new energy like a tsunami that knocked me as flat as the virus. Until the pitiful “must do… but can’t do…” released herself as tears, recognising yet another face of fear and ego, and surrendered still more deeply.
Surrender has been my practice of the last few years, but it has been a surrender to the Light. To open to Love, to trust in the vastness I am recognising within and know we all share. It has been a surrender into who I am beyond this body. Whereas what I am experiencing now is a surrender to my humanness. To my fragility and impermanence. To my utter fallibility. To every wrong decision made, to all the times I have knowingly or unknowingly hurt others, to the parts within not yet awakened, confused and lost.
This coronavirus has gifted me not only my humanness, but also our shared humanity. At 4am this morning I had a vision of a young man in a high security laboratory in Wuhan, excited for the “gain-of-function” research he was doing with honest, heartfelt intentions to understand more about viruses and help the human race. But his head, that day, was foggy with his humanness, whether heartbreak or hangover, and a hand slipped where it should have been steady. As I imagined the unbearable guilt of responsibility, compressed by secrecy into unimaginable shame – I wept such tears of forgiveness for this man. For his humanness, fallibility, arrogance, pride, ignorance and mortality.
And if I can forgive the chaos unfolding, how can I not forgive my father for the hurt, my friend for the difference in view, my neighbour for the judgment, myself for all the times I’m small, lost and mess things up? Here in the dark in my bed, alone in isolation in my room, body busy with its own survival – how could I ever call someone else different for their religion, race, colour or gender? Here we are all equals: our biology, like our Essence, is all the same.
I used to think I came into this body to remember the Light Being I am. But now I feel I am here to know humanness. Vulnerability, impermanence, suffering. The tiny splash of a raindrop, the ephemeral sparkle of a bubble in time and space. I’ve heard it said before that this precious Earth is the soul’s classroom for compassion. That Beings are queuing up for the great gift of opportunity to learn this particular fragrance of Universal Love. Perhaps coronavirus is a fierce angel of compassion on this Earth for us all? It is certainly a lesson we cannot ignore.
When fever and muscle aches first arrived with tightness in my chest, I was surprised to feel palpable relief. That something unknown, yet inevitable, will come our way is the truth of each day, yet most often disguised with a fictitious sense of control. So, there I was, grateful for the invitation to return to my body. The familiarity of immune response, the surrender to biology.
Deep dive over the next few days as I submerged into the timeless space of a body busy with what it knows best. Survival. A moment’s respite from the “should-ing” mind. Gentle support for this body’s noble work: warm teas and broths, the great gift of restorative yoga to open the lungs, rest.
What surprised me is what happened as I first began to surface from this depth, and heard news of the storms ravaging the minds of this world. How quickly I jumped back into being the saviour. There’s confusion and pain, these times are critical, I’m needed – I have to do something. I have to understand, figure this out, get it right, do the right thing, make it all ok out there. It was a new energy like a tsunami that knocked me as flat as the virus. Until the pitiful “must do… but can’t do…” released herself as tears, recognising yet another face of fear and ego, and surrendered still more deeply.
Surrender has been my practice of the last few years, but it has been a surrender to the Light. To open to Love, to trust in the vastness I am recognising within and know we all share. It has been a surrender into who I am beyond this body. Whereas what I am experiencing now is a surrender to my humanness. To my fragility and impermanence. To my utter fallibility. To every wrong decision made, to all the times I have knowingly or unknowingly hurt others, to the parts within not yet awakened, confused and lost.
This coronavirus has gifted me not only my humanness, but also our shared humanity. At 4am this morning I had a vision of a young man in a high security laboratory in Wuhan, excited for the “gain-of-function” research he was doing with honest, heartfelt intentions to understand more about viruses and help the human race. But his head, that day, was foggy with his humanness, whether heartbreak or hangover, and a hand slipped where it should have been steady. As I imagined the unbearable guilt of responsibility, compressed by secrecy into unimaginable shame – I wept such tears of forgiveness for this man. For his humanness, fallibility, arrogance, pride, ignorance and mortality.
And if I can forgive the chaos unfolding, how can I not forgive my father for the hurt, my friend for the difference in view, my neighbour for the judgment, myself for all the times I’m small, lost and mess things up? Here in the dark in my bed, alone in isolation in my room, body busy with its own survival – how could I ever call someone else different for their religion, race, colour or gender? Here we are all equals: our biology, like our Essence, is all the same.
I used to think I came into this body to remember the Light Being I am. But now I feel I am here to know humanness. Vulnerability, impermanence, suffering. The tiny splash of a raindrop, the ephemeral sparkle of a bubble in time and space. I’ve heard it said before that this precious Earth is the soul’s classroom for compassion. That Beings are queuing up for the great gift of opportunity to learn this particular fragrance of Universal Love. Perhaps coronavirus is a fierce angel of compassion on this Earth for us all? It is certainly a lesson we cannot ignore.
Presence ~ Responsibility ~ Possibility
There are huge changes taking place. Our reference points are shifting every day. How do we know what is true? How can we navigate through the storms?
There is a Northern Star that offers us guidance if we choose to recognise it. Its name is Presence. It exists here in our bodies, holding discomfort and contradiction effortlessly. Where the mind looks for right and wrong, Presence recognises complexity and responds with love. Where the mind reacts to fear with stories of denial or hysteria, Presence draws fear into a warm embrace, reminds this body to breathe deeply, and widens to hold all that is known and unknown with equal grace.
In Presence we remember we are not alone. We become receptive to a guidance within that sounds like our own voice, but carries no judgment or fear. It invites us to return to responsibility: the ability to respond with love. What action, right now, will bring most benefit, in all directions, in all time, in all realms?
The universe dances to the music of love and is calling us to dance with her. Our ability to respond with love is our responsibility to uphold: to be a vehicle for her grace.
How might that look for us now? To do the shopping for an elderly neighbour whose immune system is fragile - rather than batten our own hatches or say it’s all a hoax? To fearlessly turn towards what brings us alive - rather than fearfully protect the half life we had chosen to accept? To recognise the crumbling of existing institutions as opportunities to create something new - or to become frozen in fear as our political and economic systems manipulate all in their fight for survival? To remember that the Earth needs the same urgency, care and regeneration that we are scrambling to give to this human form - or to let fear narrow our lens to personal survival, as if we were separate from all that is?
Presence returns us to responsibility. Responsibility opens the door to possibility.
Now is a most extraordinary and precious time. It is time to pause, breathe, feel, receive… and give ourselves wholeheartedly back to create what we envision, and to be who we are.
There are huge changes taking place. Our reference points are shifting every day. How do we know what is true? How can we navigate through the storms?
There is a Northern Star that offers us guidance if we choose to recognise it. Its name is Presence. It exists here in our bodies, holding discomfort and contradiction effortlessly. Where the mind looks for right and wrong, Presence recognises complexity and responds with love. Where the mind reacts to fear with stories of denial or hysteria, Presence draws fear into a warm embrace, reminds this body to breathe deeply, and widens to hold all that is known and unknown with equal grace.
In Presence we remember we are not alone. We become receptive to a guidance within that sounds like our own voice, but carries no judgment or fear. It invites us to return to responsibility: the ability to respond with love. What action, right now, will bring most benefit, in all directions, in all time, in all realms?
The universe dances to the music of love and is calling us to dance with her. Our ability to respond with love is our responsibility to uphold: to be a vehicle for her grace.
How might that look for us now? To do the shopping for an elderly neighbour whose immune system is fragile - rather than batten our own hatches or say it’s all a hoax? To fearlessly turn towards what brings us alive - rather than fearfully protect the half life we had chosen to accept? To recognise the crumbling of existing institutions as opportunities to create something new - or to become frozen in fear as our political and economic systems manipulate all in their fight for survival? To remember that the Earth needs the same urgency, care and regeneration that we are scrambling to give to this human form - or to let fear narrow our lens to personal survival, as if we were separate from all that is?
Presence returns us to responsibility. Responsibility opens the door to possibility.
Now is a most extraordinary and precious time. It is time to pause, breathe, feel, receive… and give ourselves wholeheartedly back to create what we envision, and to be who we are.
Lighthouse
Light of the Universe
Lead me from the unreal to the real
Hold me unwavering in your truth
Help me remain present and responsible
Even as disturbance reverberates through time and space
To be recognised and brought to resolution
Help me remain open and receptive
Even as fear and denial spread like wildfire
To be the cool river that flows to the sea
Help me forgive everyone and everything
Even as they feed on their own darkness
To be the lighthouse remembering the light
Help me to see the light and shadow of this world
As the play of form dancing into truth
To be its own healing, its own birthing, its own beloved born
Light of the Universe
Lead me from the unreal to the real
Hold me unwavering in your truth
Help me remain present and responsible
Even as disturbance reverberates through time and space
To be recognised and brought to resolution
Help me remain open and receptive
Even as fear and denial spread like wildfire
To be the cool river that flows to the sea
Help me forgive everyone and everything
Even as they feed on their own darkness
To be the lighthouse remembering the light
Help me to see the light and shadow of this world
As the play of form dancing into truth
To be its own healing, its own birthing, its own beloved born
Fear, Love and Changes
What can we do when we feel ourselves caught in fear? Before moving in to define and fix, it is important first to come out of separation. For some it might be placing bare feet on earth and hands on trees. For others it might be the art of yoga, meditation, prayer, dance or music. We find our ways to journey back from mind into body, and as we breathe and feel deeply again, we remember that we can lovingly hold the fearful parts within us, and within each other.
Fear arises from the belief that we are unchanging and separate, so its default response is to hold on more tightly to what is known, and separate still further from the unknown. Amongst the uncertainty of these times, it is ever more important to come together in solidarity, self-responsibility and love. It is a time when we are being given an opportunity to re-evaluate what community really means, and our place within it. Anything that affects the entire planet (which in truth is everything) is a fork in the road, where we can choose to isolate ourselves more and defend against imaginary 'others', or come together in recognition that we are inseparable from each other and this precious Earth.
Each one of us has the opportunity to provide those around us with a steady, regulated nervous system with which to move out of the fear mindset, and begin to offer ourselves in a way that brings greatest benefit to all. We are pathfinders in our own unique ways as we shift into new ways of operating, individually, collectively and globally.
I have decided to make some changes and offer retreats closer to home in the UK this year. With infinite gratitude to the teachers and teachings I have received (and continue to receive) from many traditions across the world, it feels time to use these sacred practices to connect to the energies and wisdom traditions held in the DNA of this land too. To reawaken the power of community and place here, whilst using our planet’s resources consciously and wisely.
I look forward to sharing the journey with you!
✨
What can we do when we feel ourselves caught in fear? Before moving in to define and fix, it is important first to come out of separation. For some it might be placing bare feet on earth and hands on trees. For others it might be the art of yoga, meditation, prayer, dance or music. We find our ways to journey back from mind into body, and as we breathe and feel deeply again, we remember that we can lovingly hold the fearful parts within us, and within each other.
Fear arises from the belief that we are unchanging and separate, so its default response is to hold on more tightly to what is known, and separate still further from the unknown. Amongst the uncertainty of these times, it is ever more important to come together in solidarity, self-responsibility and love. It is a time when we are being given an opportunity to re-evaluate what community really means, and our place within it. Anything that affects the entire planet (which in truth is everything) is a fork in the road, where we can choose to isolate ourselves more and defend against imaginary 'others', or come together in recognition that we are inseparable from each other and this precious Earth.
Each one of us has the opportunity to provide those around us with a steady, regulated nervous system with which to move out of the fear mindset, and begin to offer ourselves in a way that brings greatest benefit to all. We are pathfinders in our own unique ways as we shift into new ways of operating, individually, collectively and globally.
I have decided to make some changes and offer retreats closer to home in the UK this year. With infinite gratitude to the teachers and teachings I have received (and continue to receive) from many traditions across the world, it feels time to use these sacred practices to connect to the energies and wisdom traditions held in the DNA of this land too. To reawaken the power of community and place here, whilst using our planet’s resources consciously and wisely.
I look forward to sharing the journey with you!
✨
Sacred Union
Beloved Essence
I vow to invite you into me
to feel you move through me, as me
to surrender my desire to define or acquire you
I vow to trust in this joy you bring me
to allow the vastness I feel in and with you
to soften into a mystery my mind can’t fathom
as we rest here together in love
For so long I mistook you for someone else
thought you were somewhere else
kept searching for them and that
when I felt you kiss me and bless me
I travel lightly with you now
still incredulous that love can feel like this
I offer you space to reveal yourself
as I dance with you, as you, in me
***
Blessed Body
I vow to stay here always
have never left you, will always love you
am patient as you forget me
I celebrate you, support you
whisper in your ear when you are lost
caress you when you feel alone
introduce you to Sun, Moon, Earth and Sky
We find each other sideways, through veils
I understand the confusion as you try to define me
as you place me somewhere you think you can own
I am grateful for your return, your tenacity and strength
I travel freely with you now and always
delighting in the sacred dance between us
blessed body you show me the world
and I show you the whole of creation
***
Beloved Essence, in gratitude I offer you Life
Blessed Body, in gratitude I offer you Love
Beloved Essence
I vow to invite you into me
to feel you move through me, as me
to surrender my desire to define or acquire you
I vow to trust in this joy you bring me
to allow the vastness I feel in and with you
to soften into a mystery my mind can’t fathom
as we rest here together in love
For so long I mistook you for someone else
thought you were somewhere else
kept searching for them and that
when I felt you kiss me and bless me
I travel lightly with you now
still incredulous that love can feel like this
I offer you space to reveal yourself
as I dance with you, as you, in me
***
Blessed Body
I vow to stay here always
have never left you, will always love you
am patient as you forget me
I celebrate you, support you
whisper in your ear when you are lost
caress you when you feel alone
introduce you to Sun, Moon, Earth and Sky
We find each other sideways, through veils
I understand the confusion as you try to define me
as you place me somewhere you think you can own
I am grateful for your return, your tenacity and strength
I travel freely with you now and always
delighting in the sacred dance between us
blessed body you show me the world
and I show you the whole of creation
***
Beloved Essence, in gratitude I offer you Life
Blessed Body, in gratitude I offer you Love
Head to Heart
When I ask the Universe for help, as I often do, I never get what I think I want.
But I always get what I need to grow the seeds of what I have asked for within myself.
What I think I want is filtered through the mind, which functions to preserve a sense of separate self. It works tirelessly to protect that illusory self by searching for comfort, safety and certainty. Amidst a reality where the only certainty is change, the more I attach to this perspective, the more I suffer.
Could it be that this suffering is the gift showing me where I'm caught and inviting me to surrender the story? And that some version of this freedom is actually what I have asked for?
Could it be that as a soul I have chosen to incarnate into form over lifetimes in order to meet the friction of life (suffering) to deepen my understanding and embodiment of love?
I am learning to let go of what I think I want, and open to the pain body fuelling these stories of need. That space of gentleness, compassion and courage returns me to the true heart’s longing, which is to know its own freedom and grace.
Letting go and opening, again and again. Held between earth and sky. I am committed to this journey of lifetimes, the sacred journey from head to heart.
When I ask the Universe for help, as I often do, I never get what I think I want.
But I always get what I need to grow the seeds of what I have asked for within myself.
What I think I want is filtered through the mind, which functions to preserve a sense of separate self. It works tirelessly to protect that illusory self by searching for comfort, safety and certainty. Amidst a reality where the only certainty is change, the more I attach to this perspective, the more I suffer.
Could it be that this suffering is the gift showing me where I'm caught and inviting me to surrender the story? And that some version of this freedom is actually what I have asked for?
Could it be that as a soul I have chosen to incarnate into form over lifetimes in order to meet the friction of life (suffering) to deepen my understanding and embodiment of love?
I am learning to let go of what I think I want, and open to the pain body fuelling these stories of need. That space of gentleness, compassion and courage returns me to the true heart’s longing, which is to know its own freedom and grace.
Letting go and opening, again and again. Held between earth and sky. I am committed to this journey of lifetimes, the sacred journey from head to heart.
Love's Sweet Light
How can I see infinite colour until I've split the rainbow to witness each hue?
How can I savour infinite flavour until I've tasted pungent, bitter, sweet and sour?
How could I know love's infinity without each facet of the diamond revealed?
We've entered this dance again and again to know another shade of love's sweet light. Father, son, mother, daughter, brother, sister, husband, wife, friend, enemy, teacher, student. And more, forever more. The security man who's eyes briefly met mine in depth and sweetness, as we laughed about something neither of us will ever remember. The stranger who passed me just now, too shy to look yet quietly alive to my presence.
We return, once again, to meet the edge of what had been allowed before. To find a deeper trust, to rest in a more terrifying surrender. This time. Falling again and again into stories of right and wrong, into good and bad, safe and unsafe, forgetting they are no more than ingredients in this particular meal.
And when I met you this time and my heart's doors blew open. And when I resisted the rush to slam them closed with screams of unsafe and unworthy. And when I surrendered the need to define or possess you, or even to like you. I found only laughter remained, mingling with tears of gratitude.
Because how could I know love's infinite light without allowing you to ignite each flame? And how could I realise this love was not yours to offer or mine to possess without experiencing disappointment and loss? Without witnessing life's precious imperfection?
Each falling in love, each heartbreak and loss, a gentle whisper: I am here, not there. Each lifetime we meet, each face we share, each wound we choose to expose. Love revealing an infinite array. Until one day, recognising ourselves in this playful limitless splendour, we are freed to paint rainbows across the sky.
How can I see infinite colour until I've split the rainbow to witness each hue?
How can I savour infinite flavour until I've tasted pungent, bitter, sweet and sour?
How could I know love's infinity without each facet of the diamond revealed?
We've entered this dance again and again to know another shade of love's sweet light. Father, son, mother, daughter, brother, sister, husband, wife, friend, enemy, teacher, student. And more, forever more. The security man who's eyes briefly met mine in depth and sweetness, as we laughed about something neither of us will ever remember. The stranger who passed me just now, too shy to look yet quietly alive to my presence.
We return, once again, to meet the edge of what had been allowed before. To find a deeper trust, to rest in a more terrifying surrender. This time. Falling again and again into stories of right and wrong, into good and bad, safe and unsafe, forgetting they are no more than ingredients in this particular meal.
And when I met you this time and my heart's doors blew open. And when I resisted the rush to slam them closed with screams of unsafe and unworthy. And when I surrendered the need to define or possess you, or even to like you. I found only laughter remained, mingling with tears of gratitude.
Because how could I know love's infinite light without allowing you to ignite each flame? And how could I realise this love was not yours to offer or mine to possess without experiencing disappointment and loss? Without witnessing life's precious imperfection?
Each falling in love, each heartbreak and loss, a gentle whisper: I am here, not there. Each lifetime we meet, each face we share, each wound we choose to expose. Love revealing an infinite array. Until one day, recognising ourselves in this playful limitless splendour, we are freed to paint rainbows across the sky.
Love and Fear
An elder and friend both once told me that when we look closely enough we find only love and fear. We either respond from a heart that includes all of life, and recognises the sovereignty and dignity of all things. Or we meet the limitations of this unconditionality: we meet fear and the mind that says I love this but not that. And we respond with violence.
We have so normalised this violence that we call it loving and good to attempt to solve problems by attacking the symptoms. Build a wall rather than honestly asking why people want to come to begin with. Prohibition rather than diving into the murky waters of addiction. Fixing or abandoning others when they trigger our own wounding. Our political, legal, medical and even educational systems are still based on principles of removing symptoms of violence with more violence.
Stepping out of this spiral of violence often begins with a willingness to pause, and surrender the mind conditioned to defend and protect. The heart is able to hold complexity and apparent contradiction with an ease that says yes and yes to all of life. A willingness to enquire deeply into imbalance, recognising symptoms as messengers of dis-ease to be honoured, rather than purveyors of discomfort to be removed.
I meet my own edges of love when I pause in this way. The many places I'm still unwilling to challenge my own complicity and violence. It's an uncomfortable place to be, with no quick or clean fix, but it's in the discomfort that truth and love begin to have a conversation.
What is the most loving way to respond to the multiple strands of truth, each equally present and worthy, in this and every moment?
Humility, kindness and patience were the three jewels I was offered as I departed from ceremony last autumn. I sit with these in the mud of the unresolved and reactive in my life, and watch a greater capacity to respond with love emerge from that fertile soil each day. If there is only love and fear, all I can do is meet fear with love, and watch it blossom into appropriate action.
An elder and friend both once told me that when we look closely enough we find only love and fear. We either respond from a heart that includes all of life, and recognises the sovereignty and dignity of all things. Or we meet the limitations of this unconditionality: we meet fear and the mind that says I love this but not that. And we respond with violence.
We have so normalised this violence that we call it loving and good to attempt to solve problems by attacking the symptoms. Build a wall rather than honestly asking why people want to come to begin with. Prohibition rather than diving into the murky waters of addiction. Fixing or abandoning others when they trigger our own wounding. Our political, legal, medical and even educational systems are still based on principles of removing symptoms of violence with more violence.
Stepping out of this spiral of violence often begins with a willingness to pause, and surrender the mind conditioned to defend and protect. The heart is able to hold complexity and apparent contradiction with an ease that says yes and yes to all of life. A willingness to enquire deeply into imbalance, recognising symptoms as messengers of dis-ease to be honoured, rather than purveyors of discomfort to be removed.
I meet my own edges of love when I pause in this way. The many places I'm still unwilling to challenge my own complicity and violence. It's an uncomfortable place to be, with no quick or clean fix, but it's in the discomfort that truth and love begin to have a conversation.
What is the most loving way to respond to the multiple strands of truth, each equally present and worthy, in this and every moment?
Humility, kindness and patience were the three jewels I was offered as I departed from ceremony last autumn. I sit with these in the mud of the unresolved and reactive in my life, and watch a greater capacity to respond with love emerge from that fertile soil each day. If there is only love and fear, all I can do is meet fear with love, and watch it blossom into appropriate action.
Sacred Union
She is the curve of the moon.
Molten silver in her womb, with
all of life reflected in her orb.
He burns like the sun.
Penetrating darkness with light,
rejoicing in the shining.
Afraid his light might
leave her, she tries
to teach him kindness.
Afraid her love might
bind him, he tries
to teach her freedom.
And as they fall apart
they are falling
ever more together.
Love showing him that
freedom only thrives
when it burns with compassion.
Life showing her that
love is sovereign: she too
shines with her own light.
The sun and moon together
remembering the universe
from which they were born.
She is the curve of the moon.
Molten silver in her womb, with
all of life reflected in her orb.
He burns like the sun.
Penetrating darkness with light,
rejoicing in the shining.
Afraid his light might
leave her, she tries
to teach him kindness.
Afraid her love might
bind him, he tries
to teach her freedom.
And as they fall apart
they are falling
ever more together.
Love showing him that
freedom only thrives
when it burns with compassion.
Life showing her that
love is sovereign: she too
shines with her own light.
The sun and moon together
remembering the universe
from which they were born.
Love's Revolution
In the midst of all this confusion, corruption and grief,
I'm feeling what it means to be in love.
To remain resolute regardless.
Nature teaches me in simple ways.
Sun shining through rain as I sit on a mossy log.
Last summer's leaves mulching into the earth.
I'm reminded that things need to die
for something new to be born.
How tight and dry it must feel before the snake sheds its skin.
We're there too, amongst systems and institutions
that no longer fit, as they strangle
the aliveness they claim to support.
Feeling temptations of fight, flight, freeze.
Yet choosing, like the snake, to remain in the garden.
To stay in this field of love.
Until the old skin cracks and splits, as it inevitably will.
And we emerge together for love alone.
A new skin already formed, in quiet readiness.
Love has already won.
In the midst of all this confusion, corruption and grief,
I'm feeling what it means to be in love.
To remain resolute regardless.
Nature teaches me in simple ways.
Sun shining through rain as I sit on a mossy log.
Last summer's leaves mulching into the earth.
I'm reminded that things need to die
for something new to be born.
How tight and dry it must feel before the snake sheds its skin.
We're there too, amongst systems and institutions
that no longer fit, as they strangle
the aliveness they claim to support.
Feeling temptations of fight, flight, freeze.
Yet choosing, like the snake, to remain in the garden.
To stay in this field of love.
Until the old skin cracks and splits, as it inevitably will.
And we emerge together for love alone.
A new skin already formed, in quiet readiness.
Love has already won.
Forgiveness
"Forgiveness is the fragrance that flowers give when they are crushed" Rumi
I'm watching how easy it is to fall into a victim mindset, rather than recognise that the universe is always offering me exactly the gift I need to take me to the next moment of unfolding.
How easy it is to turn to blame, and judge others for not giving me what I want, whether emotional, financial or other forms of support. As if the world happened "out there" and were somehow separate from "in here".
I have been practising turning the movements of blame into gentle inner enquiries, and am finding the root in pockets of shame within, however subtle. When I judge another, I am protecting the shame of a time where the very same expression arose in myself.
It seems that the universe has been pointing me from scarcity to abundance, by reflecting that scarcity in my life until I find its root in myself. I am learning to forgive myself there first.
I know that to enter the shadows and forgive all the places I am not yet living in alignment with love is the only way to step back into that love. Feeling the pain of remorse and forgiving myself extends into genuinely forgiving others too.
Inviting me to simply love, myself and others, as we stumble along into the light that holds us with infinite abundance regardless.
"Forgiveness is the fragrance that flowers give when they are crushed" Rumi
I'm watching how easy it is to fall into a victim mindset, rather than recognise that the universe is always offering me exactly the gift I need to take me to the next moment of unfolding.
How easy it is to turn to blame, and judge others for not giving me what I want, whether emotional, financial or other forms of support. As if the world happened "out there" and were somehow separate from "in here".
I have been practising turning the movements of blame into gentle inner enquiries, and am finding the root in pockets of shame within, however subtle. When I judge another, I am protecting the shame of a time where the very same expression arose in myself.
It seems that the universe has been pointing me from scarcity to abundance, by reflecting that scarcity in my life until I find its root in myself. I am learning to forgive myself there first.
I know that to enter the shadows and forgive all the places I am not yet living in alignment with love is the only way to step back into that love. Feeling the pain of remorse and forgiving myself extends into genuinely forgiving others too.
Inviting me to simply love, myself and others, as we stumble along into the light that holds us with infinite abundance regardless.
Blessings from the Vine
I spent my birthday and the two weeks leading up to it deep in the Peruvian jungle. Held, pummeled and broken open in the arms of sacred plant medicine, meditation, yoga, music, song, community and nature. I bow to Spring, Janeth, Yugo and Maestro Adriano of Lotus Vine Journeys. Integrity, depth, passion, wisdom and authenticity shine through them, with such love and joy. www.lotusvinejourneys.com
I am taking home many jewels. Whether new insights or old friends revisited, they have all been more deeply baked into the cells of my being. I am sharing in case they hold a resonance for you too.
Trust and surrender. I was shown how tightly my mind tries to hold on to the safety of the known. And that this is the cause of so much suffering. The antidote to this fear is trust. I see how much the last few years of my life have been teaching me what it means to trust, and with that, inviting a radical surrender from head to heart.
Forgiveness and gratitude. I journeyed deep into the roots of my family tree. I was shown that every seed of harm has been planted by the violence of ignorance and trauma that came before it. If I am to blame someone, where do I begin, or end? At whose feet do I place my bitterness? I recognised two choices: the victimhood that keeps me small and in pain, or the invitation to transform this suffering. If I choose the path of growth, all that is left is gratitude. I am forever remembering that everything is always teaching me how to love.
Integrity. This moment is not happening to me, or even around me. I was shown how the universe is continually calling me into relationship with her. Asking me to step forward with my own creative volition and free will. That in this life I am learning how to dance with her! But to dance with the universe means to dance only in alignment with love. When I am not in integrity, but caught in greed, hatred or delusion, I am dancing instead with my mind, and suffering ensues. Impeccability and ethics are the fertile ground from which the tree of life offers us the fruits of love and joy. I realise that many insights had been withheld from me by the universe until I had been ready to bow unshakably at the feet of integrity.
Choice. I was shown how we have come together again and again as soul tribe in constellations that invite us to learn and grow. I have chosen these conditions. The only way I can harness the learning and transformation offered by these relationships and circumstances is by responding to what is true right now with love. That is all. Responding to this moment with curiosity, humility, kindness and forgiveness is what transforms.
I create my own reality. I was shown through both firmness and humour that not only have I chosen these conditions, but I also choose how to interpret them. In this moment, I can choose to feel alone, unloved and at war, or I can choose to feel held, loved and in trust. When I suffer, I am choosing to suffer. Please remind me how profoundly blessed, supported and celebrated I am. Please help me remember to always be grateful and return to love.
Recognising and allowing. I became the vessel for so much healing of trapped and contorted emotions, both my own and those of my ancestors caught in my DNA. It was humbling to see the healing that occurred simply through first recognising and honouring, and then accepting and allowing the emotions to flow through me. Knowing that my body is in turn held by the earth and by spirit. That the love that is the intelligence of the universe transforms even the darkest matter back into light.
Custodians of love. I was offered a profound invitation to stand up as a custodian of love. I was shown an archetypal distortion of divine love between two people. When the man, in his fear, manipulated love for egoic gain, I saw the woman collapse in bitterness and disappointment, turning away from a love that was pure and true. I heard the call to stand up as fierce protector of love, whatever the conditions. I was reminded that I can keep my heart open and honour love always, and that this provides the space for healing that others step into. We are here to become betrothed to love itself, and stand side by side as man and woman in that sacred light.
Discipline and kindness. I learnt how subtle the dance between effort and surrender. I was shown how on the one hand I can be fearless and strong. That the impossible becomes possible if I simply stand up and step forward. However, I also saw that discipline and fervour are empty without love and kindness. That insight can be violent without compassion. Even if what I see in myself or another is true, if it arises from judgement it causes harm to all. Even trying too aggressively to be a "good" practitioner is a form of violence to myself. The two wings of awareness, wisdom and compassion, need to be in balance to soar. I was repeatedly asked to both be strong and to surrender. To stand up and to let go. To love.
Human and divine. I was blessed to be shown the being of light that I am. The energy body that my heart recognised beyond words. Blessed to meet my soul tribe and experience love in that realm. And at the very same time I was brought to my knees in my humanness. In profound love and appreciation of my human family and beloveds. In humility, patience and forgiveness. I am moving forward now with a deeper knowing that this is the journey of lifetimes. To honour the divine in fully human form. And with this, to both know and co-create heaven on earth. It's our birthright, it's possible and it's time.
I spent my birthday and the two weeks leading up to it deep in the Peruvian jungle. Held, pummeled and broken open in the arms of sacred plant medicine, meditation, yoga, music, song, community and nature. I bow to Spring, Janeth, Yugo and Maestro Adriano of Lotus Vine Journeys. Integrity, depth, passion, wisdom and authenticity shine through them, with such love and joy. www.lotusvinejourneys.com
I am taking home many jewels. Whether new insights or old friends revisited, they have all been more deeply baked into the cells of my being. I am sharing in case they hold a resonance for you too.
Trust and surrender. I was shown how tightly my mind tries to hold on to the safety of the known. And that this is the cause of so much suffering. The antidote to this fear is trust. I see how much the last few years of my life have been teaching me what it means to trust, and with that, inviting a radical surrender from head to heart.
Forgiveness and gratitude. I journeyed deep into the roots of my family tree. I was shown that every seed of harm has been planted by the violence of ignorance and trauma that came before it. If I am to blame someone, where do I begin, or end? At whose feet do I place my bitterness? I recognised two choices: the victimhood that keeps me small and in pain, or the invitation to transform this suffering. If I choose the path of growth, all that is left is gratitude. I am forever remembering that everything is always teaching me how to love.
Integrity. This moment is not happening to me, or even around me. I was shown how the universe is continually calling me into relationship with her. Asking me to step forward with my own creative volition and free will. That in this life I am learning how to dance with her! But to dance with the universe means to dance only in alignment with love. When I am not in integrity, but caught in greed, hatred or delusion, I am dancing instead with my mind, and suffering ensues. Impeccability and ethics are the fertile ground from which the tree of life offers us the fruits of love and joy. I realise that many insights had been withheld from me by the universe until I had been ready to bow unshakably at the feet of integrity.
Choice. I was shown how we have come together again and again as soul tribe in constellations that invite us to learn and grow. I have chosen these conditions. The only way I can harness the learning and transformation offered by these relationships and circumstances is by responding to what is true right now with love. That is all. Responding to this moment with curiosity, humility, kindness and forgiveness is what transforms.
I create my own reality. I was shown through both firmness and humour that not only have I chosen these conditions, but I also choose how to interpret them. In this moment, I can choose to feel alone, unloved and at war, or I can choose to feel held, loved and in trust. When I suffer, I am choosing to suffer. Please remind me how profoundly blessed, supported and celebrated I am. Please help me remember to always be grateful and return to love.
Recognising and allowing. I became the vessel for so much healing of trapped and contorted emotions, both my own and those of my ancestors caught in my DNA. It was humbling to see the healing that occurred simply through first recognising and honouring, and then accepting and allowing the emotions to flow through me. Knowing that my body is in turn held by the earth and by spirit. That the love that is the intelligence of the universe transforms even the darkest matter back into light.
Custodians of love. I was offered a profound invitation to stand up as a custodian of love. I was shown an archetypal distortion of divine love between two people. When the man, in his fear, manipulated love for egoic gain, I saw the woman collapse in bitterness and disappointment, turning away from a love that was pure and true. I heard the call to stand up as fierce protector of love, whatever the conditions. I was reminded that I can keep my heart open and honour love always, and that this provides the space for healing that others step into. We are here to become betrothed to love itself, and stand side by side as man and woman in that sacred light.
Discipline and kindness. I learnt how subtle the dance between effort and surrender. I was shown how on the one hand I can be fearless and strong. That the impossible becomes possible if I simply stand up and step forward. However, I also saw that discipline and fervour are empty without love and kindness. That insight can be violent without compassion. Even if what I see in myself or another is true, if it arises from judgement it causes harm to all. Even trying too aggressively to be a "good" practitioner is a form of violence to myself. The two wings of awareness, wisdom and compassion, need to be in balance to soar. I was repeatedly asked to both be strong and to surrender. To stand up and to let go. To love.
Human and divine. I was blessed to be shown the being of light that I am. The energy body that my heart recognised beyond words. Blessed to meet my soul tribe and experience love in that realm. And at the very same time I was brought to my knees in my humanness. In profound love and appreciation of my human family and beloveds. In humility, patience and forgiveness. I am moving forward now with a deeper knowing that this is the journey of lifetimes. To honour the divine in fully human form. And with this, to both know and co-create heaven on earth. It's our birthright, it's possible and it's time.
I’m listening. I love you. I’m so sorry. I forgive you.
A serious burn covering my left forearm, blistering then raw, left me shaken with recognition of what it is to care. I was moving too fast. Supposedly taking care of the world, but having left my centre. The pain and heat of the burn a physical reminder of how much it hurts to not be here. And a call to return: come here, listen deeply. Love.
No longer hiding from my humanness, as it shows itself up in mistakes and mishaps, again and again. With a new rawness, I look back in wonder at the times a ripple of harm has spread from leaving my centre. The times I too have covered a truth to hide from shame; followed what I want before respecting others; moved to defend a place of hurt. I am so very sorry.
The heat of the burn both calling me to presence and reminding me my fallibility. That, too, held in presence. The truth of my humanness, mess-ups, slip-ups, wrong-turns, alive in my wholeness. Remembering that leaving my centre is what invites a return. My fallibility inevitable, and therefore lovable. Completely forgiven.
My skin is raw, red, broken and exposed. Which allows for new skin, new healing, new life. Perhaps it will leave a natural tattoo, reminding me I’m both human and whole.
Invisibly inscribed in the scar are the words:
I’m listening. I love you. I’m so sorry. I forgive you.
A serious burn covering my left forearm, blistering then raw, left me shaken with recognition of what it is to care. I was moving too fast. Supposedly taking care of the world, but having left my centre. The pain and heat of the burn a physical reminder of how much it hurts to not be here. And a call to return: come here, listen deeply. Love.
No longer hiding from my humanness, as it shows itself up in mistakes and mishaps, again and again. With a new rawness, I look back in wonder at the times a ripple of harm has spread from leaving my centre. The times I too have covered a truth to hide from shame; followed what I want before respecting others; moved to defend a place of hurt. I am so very sorry.
The heat of the burn both calling me to presence and reminding me my fallibility. That, too, held in presence. The truth of my humanness, mess-ups, slip-ups, wrong-turns, alive in my wholeness. Remembering that leaving my centre is what invites a return. My fallibility inevitable, and therefore lovable. Completely forgiven.
My skin is raw, red, broken and exposed. Which allows for new skin, new healing, new life. Perhaps it will leave a natural tattoo, reminding me I’m both human and whole.
Invisibly inscribed in the scar are the words:
I’m listening. I love you. I’m so sorry. I forgive you.
Thank you
On this Libran New Moon, I offer the heartfelt intention for a renewal and release in all my relationships. Deep gratitude to you, both seen and unseen, who support and guide me in this life. May I recognise and honour those of you who hold me so lovingly as I wrestle and grow. Equally grateful for the ones who have offered their form as a canvas for my projections, allowing me to bring forward, heal and liberate hidden corners of my psyche. Most poignant for me right now is an opening into forgiveness. Thank you to those who show me my anger and judgement, whose perfect imperfections reveal to me how I relate to my own places of growth. Thank you for showing me where I struggle to forgive myself and love myself. For your patience as I sit with my own discomfort and dis-ease. Deep gratitude to each one of you as we continue to set each other free.
On this Libran New Moon, I offer the heartfelt intention for a renewal and release in all my relationships. Deep gratitude to you, both seen and unseen, who support and guide me in this life. May I recognise and honour those of you who hold me so lovingly as I wrestle and grow. Equally grateful for the ones who have offered their form as a canvas for my projections, allowing me to bring forward, heal and liberate hidden corners of my psyche. Most poignant for me right now is an opening into forgiveness. Thank you to those who show me my anger and judgement, whose perfect imperfections reveal to me how I relate to my own places of growth. Thank you for showing me where I struggle to forgive myself and love myself. For your patience as I sit with my own discomfort and dis-ease. Deep gratitude to each one of you as we continue to set each other free.
The Specialness of Being
Someone close to me is near the end of his life. In the vulnerability of dementia, he told me that he desperately wanted to feel special to somebody. Despite the love around him, this feeling of not being special seems ever present. Perhaps it always has been, and until recently has been cleverly hidden. I can see how the longing to feel special has informed his behaviour for as long as I’ve known him. Sometimes through charm and seduction, the love of being centre stage. Sometimes in reverse, aggressive in defence of the void when feelings of shame get triggered. Often just in doing what he wants to get what he wants, whatever the consequences. It’s profoundly sad to see how these actions have alienated so many people over time. The irony that a fear of not being special has eventually manifested in creating the conditions of seemingly not being special. Isn’t this always the way?
As I sat with him, I imagined him honouring his specialness. Rather than looking outwards to disprove a belief in insignificance, I imagined him falling to his knees at the simple realisation of his uniqueness and beauty. I saw him taking deep care of this knowing throughout his life, in a way that rejoiced at the mystery of the offering within. And how others would naturally be magnetised to his presence. To share in the joy and mutual appreciation. With nothing needed, there would be everything to give. A shared celebration of the abundance of Being.
I saw myself in him too. This man is my father. We share DNA, history, ancestry. His actions and outlook have shaped my psyche. As strong as my determination is to walk this life with truth and fearlessness, I am humbled each day by how cleverly the same patterns hide themselves within. I also know the pain of believing I am no longer special in another’s eyes. By turning towards this ache, I am finding the specialness of Being itself is revealed to me. As both already given and also utterly shared. I see I can choose to walk in the footsteps of a life he was not yet ready to live, recognising and honouring an inner integrity he so painfully denied.
To unpick from entanglements and return to my sovereignty is a gift my father is leaving me through his own reflection. And the reclaiming of myself is a gift that perhaps in turn will touch others I know. In that, he is returned to the sacred altar of being special to us all. Such is the perfection of life.
Someone close to me is near the end of his life. In the vulnerability of dementia, he told me that he desperately wanted to feel special to somebody. Despite the love around him, this feeling of not being special seems ever present. Perhaps it always has been, and until recently has been cleverly hidden. I can see how the longing to feel special has informed his behaviour for as long as I’ve known him. Sometimes through charm and seduction, the love of being centre stage. Sometimes in reverse, aggressive in defence of the void when feelings of shame get triggered. Often just in doing what he wants to get what he wants, whatever the consequences. It’s profoundly sad to see how these actions have alienated so many people over time. The irony that a fear of not being special has eventually manifested in creating the conditions of seemingly not being special. Isn’t this always the way?
As I sat with him, I imagined him honouring his specialness. Rather than looking outwards to disprove a belief in insignificance, I imagined him falling to his knees at the simple realisation of his uniqueness and beauty. I saw him taking deep care of this knowing throughout his life, in a way that rejoiced at the mystery of the offering within. And how others would naturally be magnetised to his presence. To share in the joy and mutual appreciation. With nothing needed, there would be everything to give. A shared celebration of the abundance of Being.
I saw myself in him too. This man is my father. We share DNA, history, ancestry. His actions and outlook have shaped my psyche. As strong as my determination is to walk this life with truth and fearlessness, I am humbled each day by how cleverly the same patterns hide themselves within. I also know the pain of believing I am no longer special in another’s eyes. By turning towards this ache, I am finding the specialness of Being itself is revealed to me. As both already given and also utterly shared. I see I can choose to walk in the footsteps of a life he was not yet ready to live, recognising and honouring an inner integrity he so painfully denied.
To unpick from entanglements and return to my sovereignty is a gift my father is leaving me through his own reflection. And the reclaiming of myself is a gift that perhaps in turn will touch others I know. In that, he is returned to the sacred altar of being special to us all. Such is the perfection of life.
My Own Light
Late at night it enters me.
Like an explosion of stars
it widens inside me.
Inviting it into my heart
I am thrown into Love.
Where once was a beating valve is a
deep black hole of infinite warmth.
I call the force to my belly:
head thrown back, lotus flowers open.
All of life widens and I am here
yet knowing another time and space.
Asking that my body be filled with this Grace,
alive now in every cell, open in
every centre, remembering this.
Remembering this.
All my life the earth has
been showing me my beauty.
The stars have been
shining my own light.
I never knew.
Until now.
Late at night it enters me.
Like an explosion of stars
it widens inside me.
Inviting it into my heart
I am thrown into Love.
Where once was a beating valve is a
deep black hole of infinite warmth.
I call the force to my belly:
head thrown back, lotus flowers open.
All of life widens and I am here
yet knowing another time and space.
Asking that my body be filled with this Grace,
alive now in every cell, open in
every centre, remembering this.
Remembering this.
All my life the earth has
been showing me my beauty.
The stars have been
shining my own light.
I never knew.
Until now.
Forgiving Shame
This is beautiful. We are all the marriage of formless and form. Divinity inhabiting a body. The eternal expressed fleetingly in the temporal. We enter as woman and man, yin and yang, receptivity and action. With the same invitation to remember who we are and express that Love creatively in the world.
There’s a tension here in the centre between formless and form, the apparent impossibility of perfection fully present in imperfection. And born from that tension comes an egoic defence of shame. Perhaps this is the Great Fall from the Garden of Eden?
It feels so alive in me right now, to notice this movement of shame and understand its innocence. How we hide from the tension by projecting either light or shadow on the screen of an apparent ‘other’, and then move in to capture or fix what we imagine we see.
For me, it’s a recognition that is allowing a deeper forgiveness and letting go.
To see that my disappointment when others appear to be dishonest or aggressive in defence of their shame, just shows me my own! Shows me where I was trying to capture Truth or Love in their image, ashamed by a belief that I’m not already whole.
To see that my movements to fix, persuade or blame others also emerge from shame. Hiding from the truth that what I perceive in them also exists in me. The violence I feel towards the shadow within projected outwardly onto them.
It feels like we’re ready for a collective sigh! Adam and Eve holding hands with the snake and the apple and remembering that all four of them are creations of God! Letting go and forgiving are supporting me to remember that my human messiness and my divinity are inseparably whole. That I’m ok, and you’re ok, and we actually never left the Garden.
This is beautiful. We are all the marriage of formless and form. Divinity inhabiting a body. The eternal expressed fleetingly in the temporal. We enter as woman and man, yin and yang, receptivity and action. With the same invitation to remember who we are and express that Love creatively in the world.
There’s a tension here in the centre between formless and form, the apparent impossibility of perfection fully present in imperfection. And born from that tension comes an egoic defence of shame. Perhaps this is the Great Fall from the Garden of Eden?
It feels so alive in me right now, to notice this movement of shame and understand its innocence. How we hide from the tension by projecting either light or shadow on the screen of an apparent ‘other’, and then move in to capture or fix what we imagine we see.
For me, it’s a recognition that is allowing a deeper forgiveness and letting go.
To see that my disappointment when others appear to be dishonest or aggressive in defence of their shame, just shows me my own! Shows me where I was trying to capture Truth or Love in their image, ashamed by a belief that I’m not already whole.
To see that my movements to fix, persuade or blame others also emerge from shame. Hiding from the truth that what I perceive in them also exists in me. The violence I feel towards the shadow within projected outwardly onto them.
It feels like we’re ready for a collective sigh! Adam and Eve holding hands with the snake and the apple and remembering that all four of them are creations of God! Letting go and forgiving are supporting me to remember that my human messiness and my divinity are inseparably whole. That I’m ok, and you’re ok, and we actually never left the Garden.
Beyond Projection and Blame
I am hearing the word narcissist so often at the moment, with much discussion of toxic relationships described in the language of "empaths vs narcissists".
I have enough personal experience of this dynamic to understand the anger that I hear spilling over. But I would also like to share another perspective that is currently offering a deeper level of healing for me.
Rather than assuming that empaths are good and narcissists are bad, I have been recognising that each of us has simply been believing we are lacking within, and are looking to either fill the lack or hide from it in the other. I am finding a humility here beyond blame or shame that recognises we’re all hurting and trying to find our way home.
From this place of lack, I have allowed others to manipulate me when I’ve been afraid to lose something that I imagine might make me whole. And I have also manipulated others by trying to fix what I imagine I see in them as a way of hiding from seeing the same in myself. I recognise both empathic and narcissistic behaviours in me, but I am still just a soft human animal slowly remembering my divinity.
In the end, I get entangled when I forget who I am. Both sides of the entanglement are saying the same thing: "I need you to be a certain way for me so that I can feel complete and define myself in relation to you. I need to hide from my sense of lack by sourcing it in you or fixing where I think I see it in you".
I'm finding a deeper freedom, forgiveness and healing in recognising that the more I self-source, the more I liberate others to be who they are, with boundaries that feel clear and natural. There’s more possibility of seeing beyond the labels (good or bad) to the beating human heart behind them. It’s from here that I am discovering what it actually means to connect to others with depth and love.
My relationships, whether easy or difficult, continue to be my deepest teachers. They show me where I move towards another (with the tendency to grasp and hold on as I define myself in relation to them) or where I want to turn away (with the tendency to close off and shut down as I define myself in opposition to them). The oscillation towards and away from is exactly what shows me where my centre is. When I drop the projection and blame, I find life is actually shining a light home.
And for that, I'm eternally grateful. Whoever you are.
I am hearing the word narcissist so often at the moment, with much discussion of toxic relationships described in the language of "empaths vs narcissists".
I have enough personal experience of this dynamic to understand the anger that I hear spilling over. But I would also like to share another perspective that is currently offering a deeper level of healing for me.
Rather than assuming that empaths are good and narcissists are bad, I have been recognising that each of us has simply been believing we are lacking within, and are looking to either fill the lack or hide from it in the other. I am finding a humility here beyond blame or shame that recognises we’re all hurting and trying to find our way home.
From this place of lack, I have allowed others to manipulate me when I’ve been afraid to lose something that I imagine might make me whole. And I have also manipulated others by trying to fix what I imagine I see in them as a way of hiding from seeing the same in myself. I recognise both empathic and narcissistic behaviours in me, but I am still just a soft human animal slowly remembering my divinity.
In the end, I get entangled when I forget who I am. Both sides of the entanglement are saying the same thing: "I need you to be a certain way for me so that I can feel complete and define myself in relation to you. I need to hide from my sense of lack by sourcing it in you or fixing where I think I see it in you".
I'm finding a deeper freedom, forgiveness and healing in recognising that the more I self-source, the more I liberate others to be who they are, with boundaries that feel clear and natural. There’s more possibility of seeing beyond the labels (good or bad) to the beating human heart behind them. It’s from here that I am discovering what it actually means to connect to others with depth and love.
My relationships, whether easy or difficult, continue to be my deepest teachers. They show me where I move towards another (with the tendency to grasp and hold on as I define myself in relation to them) or where I want to turn away (with the tendency to close off and shut down as I define myself in opposition to them). The oscillation towards and away from is exactly what shows me where my centre is. When I drop the projection and blame, I find life is actually shining a light home.
And for that, I'm eternally grateful. Whoever you are.
Harvest Moon
The Harvest Full Moon is a time when we reap the seeds that were sown at the Spring Equinox. For me, that was a time when I began to recognise the violence, to myself and others, of not standing in my own light. The projections and entanglements that arise when leaving my Self.
As the wheel of life turns, I am feeling profoundly grateful for a deepening recognition that the only thing that truly hurts me, is this movement away from my own centre. That leaving my wholeness creates an ache in my heart that has only ever been a signal to attend and return.
I made a commitment a few days ago to no longer follow a particular way that I’ve been leaving myself. Each time the movement arises as an urge or impulse, I am pausing to feel the ache. Rather than moving outwards, I am making space to move inwards. To reconnect to womb, heart and Spirit.
In the moment of reconnection, the ache of being separate is seen and held. It was only ever a misunderstanding that this was not a pain of being separate from anything outside of me. Simply the pain of moving away from my own centre, calling me home.
As many times as I leave, and notice I’m leaving, I have the choice to recognise and return. As the days shorten and the ground is prepared for a new cycle, I am trusting that from this place of deeper alignment I may plant more seeds of skilful action for next year’s harvest.
The Harvest Full Moon is a time when we reap the seeds that were sown at the Spring Equinox. For me, that was a time when I began to recognise the violence, to myself and others, of not standing in my own light. The projections and entanglements that arise when leaving my Self.
As the wheel of life turns, I am feeling profoundly grateful for a deepening recognition that the only thing that truly hurts me, is this movement away from my own centre. That leaving my wholeness creates an ache in my heart that has only ever been a signal to attend and return.
I made a commitment a few days ago to no longer follow a particular way that I’ve been leaving myself. Each time the movement arises as an urge or impulse, I am pausing to feel the ache. Rather than moving outwards, I am making space to move inwards. To reconnect to womb, heart and Spirit.
In the moment of reconnection, the ache of being separate is seen and held. It was only ever a misunderstanding that this was not a pain of being separate from anything outside of me. Simply the pain of moving away from my own centre, calling me home.
As many times as I leave, and notice I’m leaving, I have the choice to recognise and return. As the days shorten and the ground is prepared for a new cycle, I am trusting that from this place of deeper alignment I may plant more seeds of skilful action for next year’s harvest.
Alone: all-one
In my meditation and prayer I have been hearing the invitation again and again to stand alone. Stand alone, stand alone. It feels like the invitation to know the unity that exists inside me. To recognise the masculine principle within that holds the feminine strong and sacred.
Like opening my eyes once again I am feeling how standing alone is actually standing in connection and unity! To stand alone is to let go of the attachments and grasping of a self that feels afraid and separate, to stand instead with spirit in wholeness.
And from here all of life appears to open to me! With nothing to hold on to, the playground is revealed. Alone becomes all-one. It's a place free of need because everything is already given. Free of loss because it's all already here. Free of mental rules because with nothing needed and nothing lost there is only love to play with in the infinite ways it shows up.
The whisper I hear is equally, simply, 'Sister, it is time to stand up".
In my meditation and prayer I have been hearing the invitation again and again to stand alone. Stand alone, stand alone. It feels like the invitation to know the unity that exists inside me. To recognise the masculine principle within that holds the feminine strong and sacred.
Like opening my eyes once again I am feeling how standing alone is actually standing in connection and unity! To stand alone is to let go of the attachments and grasping of a self that feels afraid and separate, to stand instead with spirit in wholeness.
And from here all of life appears to open to me! With nothing to hold on to, the playground is revealed. Alone becomes all-one. It's a place free of need because everything is already given. Free of loss because it's all already here. Free of mental rules because with nothing needed and nothing lost there is only love to play with in the infinite ways it shows up.
The whisper I hear is equally, simply, 'Sister, it is time to stand up".
Gratitude
“Gratitude is the key that opens the Universe and allows us to receive” Tata Pedro, Mayan Elder
Grateful to the spirits of the water, air, fire and earth.
Grateful for this body, and the opportunity to know love in form.
Grateful to all those who hold me and shake me and help me wake up.
This is the time of gratitude, trust and surrender as we let go of resistance and remember that everything and everyone is only ever pointing us back to the light already shining within.
This is the time of return.
“Gratitude is the key that opens the Universe and allows us to receive” Tata Pedro, Mayan Elder
Grateful to the spirits of the water, air, fire and earth.
Grateful for this body, and the opportunity to know love in form.
Grateful to all those who hold me and shake me and help me wake up.
This is the time of gratitude, trust and surrender as we let go of resistance and remember that everything and everyone is only ever pointing us back to the light already shining within.
This is the time of return.
Eclipse of the Heart
Some time ago, my heart saw with clarity who I am and what I’m here for. The language of the heart is formless, so my mind flipped fuses and scrambled to define what had revealed itself. It then became busy with maintaining and managing what was only ever an idea, and one defined by painfully narrow parameters of what is actually possible. I was afraid to trust in what was already here, getting caught in attachement and fear around what I believed to be here instead.
I have experienced the most profound release from letting go and forgiveness, and seeing that they are one and the same. To truly let go of what I have been holding on to most tightly, is to be returned to the light already here in my heart. To truly forgive, myself and others, for the places we are asleep and times we create harm, is to recognise that same light within us all. In seeing I no longer need others to fulfil something for me, I have found I can offer them back to themselves with love, and to the perfection of their own journey.
I find myself now with absolute trust in the knowing of my heart, yet bowing to life’s mystery to show me the way. I am putting down my map and compass, my need to control or define. My work is to respond to each moment as it presents itself, letting go, forgiving, and trusting the perfection that keeps revealing itself. Life is a co-conspirator with my heart! I already smile at the way it is offering conditions to reveal everything I have asked for, but in ways my mind didn’t imagine, and often moves to resist.
Calling us all, on this precious day, to recognise the reactivity revealed with the solar eclipse as an invitation to surrender, and then surrender again! And then laugh at the innocent misunderstanding that was only ever a forgetting of the brightness with which we all shine.
We too become eclipsed by our own minds, until the cosmos turns and the light is revealed anew.
Some time ago, my heart saw with clarity who I am and what I’m here for. The language of the heart is formless, so my mind flipped fuses and scrambled to define what had revealed itself. It then became busy with maintaining and managing what was only ever an idea, and one defined by painfully narrow parameters of what is actually possible. I was afraid to trust in what was already here, getting caught in attachement and fear around what I believed to be here instead.
I have experienced the most profound release from letting go and forgiveness, and seeing that they are one and the same. To truly let go of what I have been holding on to most tightly, is to be returned to the light already here in my heart. To truly forgive, myself and others, for the places we are asleep and times we create harm, is to recognise that same light within us all. In seeing I no longer need others to fulfil something for me, I have found I can offer them back to themselves with love, and to the perfection of their own journey.
I find myself now with absolute trust in the knowing of my heart, yet bowing to life’s mystery to show me the way. I am putting down my map and compass, my need to control or define. My work is to respond to each moment as it presents itself, letting go, forgiving, and trusting the perfection that keeps revealing itself. Life is a co-conspirator with my heart! I already smile at the way it is offering conditions to reveal everything I have asked for, but in ways my mind didn’t imagine, and often moves to resist.
Calling us all, on this precious day, to recognise the reactivity revealed with the solar eclipse as an invitation to surrender, and then surrender again! And then laugh at the innocent misunderstanding that was only ever a forgetting of the brightness with which we all shine.
We too become eclipsed by our own minds, until the cosmos turns and the light is revealed anew.
The Light of Aloneness
I’m recognising a sense of aloneness that’s been here since I can remember. It’s like a longing to move beyond the confines of this mind and this skin, to merge once again with myself and each other in a way that my heart knows is possible. To become one again.
In my childhood, I walked through life facing labels and boxes and categories of separation with a loneliness so strong that I could only survive by pretending it wasn’t here. Agreeing with the limited love offered in the world so at least I would belong to something.
And then began a time of breaking free of those norms, of diving deeper into myself and between us. Of looking into another’s eyes and saying Hello once again. The remembrance of seeing and being seen.
But after so many years where aloneness was hidden it exploded into a longing for unity. From suppression to fulfilment is the pendulum swing: from believing this doesn’t exist to believing it needs to be satisfied. Yet both sides of the pendulum reinforce the idea that loneliness is something that needs to be fixed. Both are forms of escape and addiction.
So, these days, I’ve been walking with aloneness as friend not foe. Neither pretending it’s not here nor grasping to placate it. And find, as always, the whole of life here in the centre.
The truth that I am, indeed, alone with my experience. That no one else can truly understand my thoughts, hear my song or see my view. Appreciating that this is the way of form, with its mysterious boundaries of skin, bark, feather or fur. Realising that each of our perceptions are utterly unique and singular.
And at the very same time the truth of our sameness. That we breathe the same breath, we share the same atoms. We move with the very same energy that dances within. Our hearts beat with the same desire to return home to love, however distorted its outer expression becomes.
We are as unique and inseparable as flowers on a vine. As waves in an ocean. Which could be why we’re here? To look across from one flower to another and know that you will always be a mystery, and yet as familiar as my own roots. To recognise the ocean in another wave, and in reflection, remember my true self.
I see the ways I’ve been wanting others to prevent me from feeling this fear of aloneness. Calling to another wave to dance exactly in step, so that I can imagine I’m two, and avoid the terror of one. Forgetting I’m the ocean, I try to find myself out there in the world, suffering as all waves rise and fall to their own rhythms regardless.
I see how tempting it can be to deny this loneliness with a spiritual bypass that insists we are only the ocean, as if we were not also the waves. It seems to me that to wish a return to oneness is to bypass the gift of form. The gift of a wave rising up to look out at other waves, able to perceive the ocean in infinite diversity before it returns.
When I’m not denying or fixing aloneness, I am able to see its perfection. How natural, inevitable, even necessary it is. The way it tugs at my heart as I witness the mystery and familiarity that is you. Reminds me that I cannot feel you, but that I, too, feel love, confusion, fear and loss like you do. That my heart contracts and expands with yours. That your separateness and sameness invite me to discover empathy. I am not you, but I feel myself more deeply through you. I feel your delight in my joy. I feel your suffering in my compassion.
Perhaps that’s why we’re here? To recognise the ocean in the wave, and to see the truth of who we are in reflection. And through witnessing the diversity of oneness, to discover empathic love. A shared love of the divine in all its manifestations. Maybe the miracles of sympathetic joy and compassion could only be birthed from the furnace of a separateness so utterly shared. Like this. Maybe, there’s no mistake?
I’m recognising a sense of aloneness that’s been here since I can remember. It’s like a longing to move beyond the confines of this mind and this skin, to merge once again with myself and each other in a way that my heart knows is possible. To become one again.
In my childhood, I walked through life facing labels and boxes and categories of separation with a loneliness so strong that I could only survive by pretending it wasn’t here. Agreeing with the limited love offered in the world so at least I would belong to something.
And then began a time of breaking free of those norms, of diving deeper into myself and between us. Of looking into another’s eyes and saying Hello once again. The remembrance of seeing and being seen.
But after so many years where aloneness was hidden it exploded into a longing for unity. From suppression to fulfilment is the pendulum swing: from believing this doesn’t exist to believing it needs to be satisfied. Yet both sides of the pendulum reinforce the idea that loneliness is something that needs to be fixed. Both are forms of escape and addiction.
So, these days, I’ve been walking with aloneness as friend not foe. Neither pretending it’s not here nor grasping to placate it. And find, as always, the whole of life here in the centre.
The truth that I am, indeed, alone with my experience. That no one else can truly understand my thoughts, hear my song or see my view. Appreciating that this is the way of form, with its mysterious boundaries of skin, bark, feather or fur. Realising that each of our perceptions are utterly unique and singular.
And at the very same time the truth of our sameness. That we breathe the same breath, we share the same atoms. We move with the very same energy that dances within. Our hearts beat with the same desire to return home to love, however distorted its outer expression becomes.
We are as unique and inseparable as flowers on a vine. As waves in an ocean. Which could be why we’re here? To look across from one flower to another and know that you will always be a mystery, and yet as familiar as my own roots. To recognise the ocean in another wave, and in reflection, remember my true self.
I see the ways I’ve been wanting others to prevent me from feeling this fear of aloneness. Calling to another wave to dance exactly in step, so that I can imagine I’m two, and avoid the terror of one. Forgetting I’m the ocean, I try to find myself out there in the world, suffering as all waves rise and fall to their own rhythms regardless.
I see how tempting it can be to deny this loneliness with a spiritual bypass that insists we are only the ocean, as if we were not also the waves. It seems to me that to wish a return to oneness is to bypass the gift of form. The gift of a wave rising up to look out at other waves, able to perceive the ocean in infinite diversity before it returns.
When I’m not denying or fixing aloneness, I am able to see its perfection. How natural, inevitable, even necessary it is. The way it tugs at my heart as I witness the mystery and familiarity that is you. Reminds me that I cannot feel you, but that I, too, feel love, confusion, fear and loss like you do. That my heart contracts and expands with yours. That your separateness and sameness invite me to discover empathy. I am not you, but I feel myself more deeply through you. I feel your delight in my joy. I feel your suffering in my compassion.
Perhaps that’s why we’re here? To recognise the ocean in the wave, and to see the truth of who we are in reflection. And through witnessing the diversity of oneness, to discover empathic love. A shared love of the divine in all its manifestations. Maybe the miracles of sympathetic joy and compassion could only be birthed from the furnace of a separateness so utterly shared. Like this. Maybe, there’s no mistake?
The Stillness at the Centre of my Heart
I am gradually discovering that I am here in this life to be who I am. Through a stillness in the centre of my heart that meets life without effort or thought. It's become my North Star, the guiding light that shines the way.
When I'm afraid it contracts and asks me to breathe until there's space again. Until I see the perfection in all that's here without fear. And in opening, find I respond with a steadiness and trust that is direct and simple.
When I'm angry the stillness becomes choppy and broken. My quicksilver mind steps in to defend. Until I’m reminded the light within is more entrancing than war. And asks me to be willing to hear what is true above ideas of being right.
When there are stories of loss and lack, my heart becomes congested. I am learning to be patient, these days, until the flotsam of belief floats to the surface, and is recognised and met there. A scarcity within discovering it’s held in abundance.
There’s a stillness at the centre of my heart that is reminding me who I am. It’s a space that effortlessly holds time and timeless, joy and pain, curiosity and fear. A portal through which the entire universe moves as the unique song that is my life.
I remember this from when I was a child, and still trusted in magic and wildness. Before I expected to have any answers or know who I am. It’s always been here, calling me back with curiosity and wonder, to enter the mystery. Dying to come alive.
I am gradually discovering that I am here in this life to be who I am. Through a stillness in the centre of my heart that meets life without effort or thought. It's become my North Star, the guiding light that shines the way.
When I'm afraid it contracts and asks me to breathe until there's space again. Until I see the perfection in all that's here without fear. And in opening, find I respond with a steadiness and trust that is direct and simple.
When I'm angry the stillness becomes choppy and broken. My quicksilver mind steps in to defend. Until I’m reminded the light within is more entrancing than war. And asks me to be willing to hear what is true above ideas of being right.
When there are stories of loss and lack, my heart becomes congested. I am learning to be patient, these days, until the flotsam of belief floats to the surface, and is recognised and met there. A scarcity within discovering it’s held in abundance.
There’s a stillness at the centre of my heart that is reminding me who I am. It’s a space that effortlessly holds time and timeless, joy and pain, curiosity and fear. A portal through which the entire universe moves as the unique song that is my life.
I remember this from when I was a child, and still trusted in magic and wildness. Before I expected to have any answers or know who I am. It’s always been here, calling me back with curiosity and wonder, to enter the mystery. Dying to come alive.
Falling In Love
Falling in love is often our greatest, and most severe, teacher. When we allow someone or something to matter to us, we suspend our defences and illusions of smallness for long enough to experience a vastness of heart that we had convinced ourselves wasn’t possible.
If suffering follows, it’s here to show us where we’re imagining this aliveness to exist in the object of our love, whether this is a person, creative endeavour or even ideology. When we forget this “other” is only opening us to the presence of love within us, we attempt to hold on to where we think we’ve found it in the world. We suffer as it inevitably changes shape, or slips through our fingers and is gone.
We try to hold on to the forms love takes as it moves through this world. Yet the only certainty of form is change. Arising and dissolving is the nature of all form. As love continually gives birth to herself in ways that our minds cannot predict or control. The only thing that can be held on to are ideas, which at ultimately are simply attempts to define who we are.
We hold on to some idea of another person and how it will all turn out… which in fact is only ever an idea about ourselves, and how we feel in their reflection. We hold on to some idea of our offering in the world, our work or creative expression… which again is only ever an idea about ourselves, and who we think we are.
Which means that every heartbreak, frustration or anxiety around uncertainty becomes an invitation. It shows us where we were holding on to an idea, and asks us to let go. To allow what we think we know to die, as we recognise love in the expression birthing right now. It invites us to trust in love itself, above the forms it takes. To remain open, exposed, present: neither moving towards in control, nor moving away in protection.
Which means there’s nowhere left to hide for the unmet parts within, that have been trying to manage love to get their needs met and defend their story. With nowhere to go and nothing to do, the unloved is finally allowed to be held in love itself, and return to a wholeness it was only imagining it had left. Return to a way of being that is beyond definition and devoid of certainty, but dazzlingly, heartbreakingly, alive.
Holding on to the form love takes is like holding on to a rainbow, forgetting it’s no more than a fleeting expression of sunlight. Unwilling to stand in wonder and awe, we busy ourselves with imagining we can manipulate the elements to keep it here forever. Or create a smaller, safe version in our own back garden. And then blame the form we have strangled for no longer expressing the magnificence we remember.
Falling in love is falling back into the sovereignty of all things. Which means, to love another is to set them free. To love an expression or offering is to let it be. As you celebrate and honour this unique form love is taking, and caretake its passage while it blooms.
Falling in love is often our greatest, and most severe, teacher. When we allow someone or something to matter to us, we suspend our defences and illusions of smallness for long enough to experience a vastness of heart that we had convinced ourselves wasn’t possible.
If suffering follows, it’s here to show us where we’re imagining this aliveness to exist in the object of our love, whether this is a person, creative endeavour or even ideology. When we forget this “other” is only opening us to the presence of love within us, we attempt to hold on to where we think we’ve found it in the world. We suffer as it inevitably changes shape, or slips through our fingers and is gone.
We try to hold on to the forms love takes as it moves through this world. Yet the only certainty of form is change. Arising and dissolving is the nature of all form. As love continually gives birth to herself in ways that our minds cannot predict or control. The only thing that can be held on to are ideas, which at ultimately are simply attempts to define who we are.
We hold on to some idea of another person and how it will all turn out… which in fact is only ever an idea about ourselves, and how we feel in their reflection. We hold on to some idea of our offering in the world, our work or creative expression… which again is only ever an idea about ourselves, and who we think we are.
Which means that every heartbreak, frustration or anxiety around uncertainty becomes an invitation. It shows us where we were holding on to an idea, and asks us to let go. To allow what we think we know to die, as we recognise love in the expression birthing right now. It invites us to trust in love itself, above the forms it takes. To remain open, exposed, present: neither moving towards in control, nor moving away in protection.
Which means there’s nowhere left to hide for the unmet parts within, that have been trying to manage love to get their needs met and defend their story. With nowhere to go and nothing to do, the unloved is finally allowed to be held in love itself, and return to a wholeness it was only imagining it had left. Return to a way of being that is beyond definition and devoid of certainty, but dazzlingly, heartbreakingly, alive.
Holding on to the form love takes is like holding on to a rainbow, forgetting it’s no more than a fleeting expression of sunlight. Unwilling to stand in wonder and awe, we busy ourselves with imagining we can manipulate the elements to keep it here forever. Or create a smaller, safe version in our own back garden. And then blame the form we have strangled for no longer expressing the magnificence we remember.
Falling in love is falling back into the sovereignty of all things. Which means, to love another is to set them free. To love an expression or offering is to let it be. As you celebrate and honour this unique form love is taking, and caretake its passage while it blooms.
Sometimes
Sometimes I believe I have lost something precious.
Forgetting that change is always here:
a movement of form through vast skies of Love.
The pain of loss showing where I’m holding on to ideas
as if they were anything more than clouds passing through.
Sometimes I believe I have done something wrong.
Until I’m reminded that what’s already broken is looking to heal.
The clouds will always dissolve back into the sky.
The tension of belief creates its own destruction.
And destruction can sometimes be the most direct path to peace.
Sometimes I’m terrified of loss or damage
in an imagined future that doesn’t exist.
It’s a game I play to keep safe from uncertainty,
believing what I fear and making it real so at least I’m prepared.
Afraid of freedom, I build my own prison, and step inside.
The terror of not knowing, the pain of lack and loss,
the drama of shame or blame. This blessed suffering!
Such sublime invitations to recognise ten thousand stories and let them go.
Each stab like breadcrumbs through the forest.
Signposts home.
Sometimes I remember how deeply I love.
How wild this heart, passionate my embrace.
Joyful my appreciation of you, and you.
Of me, and this. Sometimes I remember
this sacred journey is all I’ve ever wished for.
Sometimes I remember I’m free.
Sometimes I believe I have lost something precious.
Forgetting that change is always here:
a movement of form through vast skies of Love.
The pain of loss showing where I’m holding on to ideas
as if they were anything more than clouds passing through.
Sometimes I believe I have done something wrong.
Until I’m reminded that what’s already broken is looking to heal.
The clouds will always dissolve back into the sky.
The tension of belief creates its own destruction.
And destruction can sometimes be the most direct path to peace.
Sometimes I’m terrified of loss or damage
in an imagined future that doesn’t exist.
It’s a game I play to keep safe from uncertainty,
believing what I fear and making it real so at least I’m prepared.
Afraid of freedom, I build my own prison, and step inside.
The terror of not knowing, the pain of lack and loss,
the drama of shame or blame. This blessed suffering!
Such sublime invitations to recognise ten thousand stories and let them go.
Each stab like breadcrumbs through the forest.
Signposts home.
Sometimes I remember how deeply I love.
How wild this heart, passionate my embrace.
Joyful my appreciation of you, and you.
Of me, and this. Sometimes I remember
this sacred journey is all I’ve ever wished for.
Sometimes I remember I’m free.
Wise Speech
When I notice I’m being reactive in my responses, I find it helpful to return to the Buddha’s reflections on Wise Speech. Before we speak, he suggested we ask: is this true, is it beneficial, and can it be received. So, we only speak the truth. But if speaking the truth does not bring benefit, it’s better to say nothing. And when we know something to be true and of benefit, but the other person is unable or unwilling to hear it, we reflect more deeply as to what they need most in that moment. It asks us to be willing to meet them where they are, in a way that will most support the collective movement towards love. There is no blueprint as to how this will look, it is as unique as the individuals conversing. Hence the subtlety of truly ethical behaviour: so much more than a list of rules.
The reason why this is a powerful practice is that it demands that we feel what is behind our desire to speak. I notice for myself that this way of responding feels quite natural when I am not triggered in my own reactivity. But when another person stimulates an unconscious movement towards or away from them, the demanding or defending parts in me rise up and direct speech.
Even truth becomes distorted through the lens of wanting or resisting. This is most obvious in disagreement: someone says something that elicits uncomfortable feelings in me, and I assume they are attacking me. Of course, sometimes they might be doing just this, and it’s appropriate to move away. But it might also be that I imagine they are lashing out just because it feels like a lashing inside me. I have felt this so many times over the years when vulnerable parts have been exposed and triggered, and I have literally reinterpreted reality to fit my experience of pain.
The demanding, defending and distracting parts in us are very young, and therefore narcissistic in nature. Whether or not I am bringing benefit to the other will likely be overlooked, or couched in a spiritual bypass that is able to see their delusion, but is unwilling to recognise (and attend to) the frustration or insecurity in myself, motivating my interaction. Through the eyes of this young part I am equally unwilling to reflect if they are able to receive what I want to tell them, because what I am actually wanting to do is appease the discomfort in me first. Or use them as a distraction against seeing myself. In the end, I see that when I point a finger at another person, I am always defending myself with the other hand.
One of the things this has shown me is how painful I find it to be misunderstood or unfairly accused. Yet defending this pain, when it can’t be received, is equally an act of war. I am realising that it can be a powerful practice to turn anything I say (whether in accusation or invitation) back to myself first. To see that at the deepest level, I am only ever talking about my own experience. It is a profound practice of letting go of another person and allowing them to be who they are. Even if they are using me as their own diversion and distraction.
We are all divine reflections in a hall of mirrors, showing each other the face we are showing ourselves. As our own practice deepens and we see further into the mirrors, it can be harder to remember it’s still our own face reflected back. The greater our capacity and gifts, the greater also is our responsibility for humility and self-reflection.
When I notice I’m being reactive in my responses, I find it helpful to return to the Buddha’s reflections on Wise Speech. Before we speak, he suggested we ask: is this true, is it beneficial, and can it be received. So, we only speak the truth. But if speaking the truth does not bring benefit, it’s better to say nothing. And when we know something to be true and of benefit, but the other person is unable or unwilling to hear it, we reflect more deeply as to what they need most in that moment. It asks us to be willing to meet them where they are, in a way that will most support the collective movement towards love. There is no blueprint as to how this will look, it is as unique as the individuals conversing. Hence the subtlety of truly ethical behaviour: so much more than a list of rules.
The reason why this is a powerful practice is that it demands that we feel what is behind our desire to speak. I notice for myself that this way of responding feels quite natural when I am not triggered in my own reactivity. But when another person stimulates an unconscious movement towards or away from them, the demanding or defending parts in me rise up and direct speech.
Even truth becomes distorted through the lens of wanting or resisting. This is most obvious in disagreement: someone says something that elicits uncomfortable feelings in me, and I assume they are attacking me. Of course, sometimes they might be doing just this, and it’s appropriate to move away. But it might also be that I imagine they are lashing out just because it feels like a lashing inside me. I have felt this so many times over the years when vulnerable parts have been exposed and triggered, and I have literally reinterpreted reality to fit my experience of pain.
The demanding, defending and distracting parts in us are very young, and therefore narcissistic in nature. Whether or not I am bringing benefit to the other will likely be overlooked, or couched in a spiritual bypass that is able to see their delusion, but is unwilling to recognise (and attend to) the frustration or insecurity in myself, motivating my interaction. Through the eyes of this young part I am equally unwilling to reflect if they are able to receive what I want to tell them, because what I am actually wanting to do is appease the discomfort in me first. Or use them as a distraction against seeing myself. In the end, I see that when I point a finger at another person, I am always defending myself with the other hand.
One of the things this has shown me is how painful I find it to be misunderstood or unfairly accused. Yet defending this pain, when it can’t be received, is equally an act of war. I am realising that it can be a powerful practice to turn anything I say (whether in accusation or invitation) back to myself first. To see that at the deepest level, I am only ever talking about my own experience. It is a profound practice of letting go of another person and allowing them to be who they are. Even if they are using me as their own diversion and distraction.
We are all divine reflections in a hall of mirrors, showing each other the face we are showing ourselves. As our own practice deepens and we see further into the mirrors, it can be harder to remember it’s still our own face reflected back. The greater our capacity and gifts, the greater also is our responsibility for humility and self-reflection.
Feminine Rising
This Phoenix rising is Golden!
Naked like a flame.
Arising from the ashes
of all she has clung to.
Out of the mud of all
she was grasping.
As if it defined her Soul.
This Phoenix rising is powerful!
So many years
running from her strength.
So many tears
from stories of blame.
That were only a wildness
afraid to be free.
This Phoenix rising is radiant!
Her body a prayer.
Her courage a panther.
Her heart a condor.
Alive and exploding
with all that is true.
Unapologetically me.
This Phoenix rising is Golden!
Naked like a flame.
Arising from the ashes
of all she has clung to.
Out of the mud of all
she was grasping.
As if it defined her Soul.
This Phoenix rising is powerful!
So many years
running from her strength.
So many tears
from stories of blame.
That were only a wildness
afraid to be free.
This Phoenix rising is radiant!
Her body a prayer.
Her courage a panther.
Her heart a condor.
Alive and exploding
with all that is true.
Unapologetically me.
Reflecting on Arrogance
I keep finding that when I open myself to the universe in humility and surrender and ask for help, ask to be shown what I cannot see, I am given exactly what I need. Both in terms of the life lessons I am ready for, and in regards to the support and signposts that point to the healing and understanding being called forward.
When I was recently out of my depth, treading water, my angel/sister sent me this story by Terry Dobson: http://easternhealingarts.com/Articles/softanswer.html
I would love you to read it in full, but to paraphrase, and reframe it somewhat…
Imagine a train carriage in Japan that actually represents yourself. Where the passengers are parts of your psyche and soul. An elderly couple, mother and baby representing your fear. A grotesque, unruly, filthy drunkard representing your rage. A young, strong Aikido student your arrogance.
Onto the train staggers the drunk, thrashing in anger. Fear runs, petrified to the other end of the carriage, frozen in separation. Arrogance steps forward, finally believing a legitimate reason to prove his worth, to be the hero. Anger surges blindly as his own shame stabs like a sword at his heart. An inner battle is set to begin.
But sitting so small, watchful, yet powerful, is your wisdom nature. Seeing everything. The innocence of each character caught in delusion, the violence about to unfold. As the true Aikido master here, she navigates seamlessly through outer expressions of violence, to lovingly embrace shame, delusion and separation beyond the anger, arrogance and fear protecting them. This touch of love dissolves all defences and they fall gratefully onto her lap. Shame, delusion, separation all held in an unconditional, joyful, playful embrace.
I saw myself in every character in this story. I am a little more familiar with meeting the fearful and angry parts within. But arrogance was new to me, and exactly what life was calling me to see. In my case, not so much the arrogance of trying to be somebody special or prove myself. But rather an arrogance that arises from grasping. From fear of loss of other, which is only really a fear of loss of who I think I am. The arrogance expressed through creating stories that I want to believe, when afraid of loss or disappointment. Which really means, when my own self-image is threatened. Believing that I can then move in to fix what I see as wrong, and feel safe from that loss. Reassert my sense of self. Ultimately, so that I am free to love, which in truth I always am.
I realised also that my response to anger was still caught in the freeze/shut down/retaliate in cleverness and righteousness pattern familiar from childhood. All the inner passengers ganging up together to attack the apparent threat. Witnessing the Japanese elder forgive anger so completely was profound for me. To see him unafraid of the shame behind it, without trying to fix or point it out. Able simply to love all in its perfection. Sharing the common thread of this human heart’s appreciation for beauty and life.
One such elder recently said to me “Be as a body of no resistance; this is deep practice for us as humans. Never give attention to a tantrum. Go forward.” When I heard this from her, I felt my head on her lap, her hand stroking my hair, even though we were thousands of miles apart. I am remembering that I, too, have this wisdom nature within. That the insecurity of arrogance, the shame of anger, the stories of fear, are all held in my own playful, joyous embrace. That everything is exactly as it should be: there’s nothing that can be lost. This remembering may take some time to integrate, but that’s ok. On this lap there’s all the time in the world.
I keep finding that when I open myself to the universe in humility and surrender and ask for help, ask to be shown what I cannot see, I am given exactly what I need. Both in terms of the life lessons I am ready for, and in regards to the support and signposts that point to the healing and understanding being called forward.
When I was recently out of my depth, treading water, my angel/sister sent me this story by Terry Dobson: http://easternhealingarts.com/Articles/softanswer.html
I would love you to read it in full, but to paraphrase, and reframe it somewhat…
Imagine a train carriage in Japan that actually represents yourself. Where the passengers are parts of your psyche and soul. An elderly couple, mother and baby representing your fear. A grotesque, unruly, filthy drunkard representing your rage. A young, strong Aikido student your arrogance.
Onto the train staggers the drunk, thrashing in anger. Fear runs, petrified to the other end of the carriage, frozen in separation. Arrogance steps forward, finally believing a legitimate reason to prove his worth, to be the hero. Anger surges blindly as his own shame stabs like a sword at his heart. An inner battle is set to begin.
But sitting so small, watchful, yet powerful, is your wisdom nature. Seeing everything. The innocence of each character caught in delusion, the violence about to unfold. As the true Aikido master here, she navigates seamlessly through outer expressions of violence, to lovingly embrace shame, delusion and separation beyond the anger, arrogance and fear protecting them. This touch of love dissolves all defences and they fall gratefully onto her lap. Shame, delusion, separation all held in an unconditional, joyful, playful embrace.
I saw myself in every character in this story. I am a little more familiar with meeting the fearful and angry parts within. But arrogance was new to me, and exactly what life was calling me to see. In my case, not so much the arrogance of trying to be somebody special or prove myself. But rather an arrogance that arises from grasping. From fear of loss of other, which is only really a fear of loss of who I think I am. The arrogance expressed through creating stories that I want to believe, when afraid of loss or disappointment. Which really means, when my own self-image is threatened. Believing that I can then move in to fix what I see as wrong, and feel safe from that loss. Reassert my sense of self. Ultimately, so that I am free to love, which in truth I always am.
I realised also that my response to anger was still caught in the freeze/shut down/retaliate in cleverness and righteousness pattern familiar from childhood. All the inner passengers ganging up together to attack the apparent threat. Witnessing the Japanese elder forgive anger so completely was profound for me. To see him unafraid of the shame behind it, without trying to fix or point it out. Able simply to love all in its perfection. Sharing the common thread of this human heart’s appreciation for beauty and life.
One such elder recently said to me “Be as a body of no resistance; this is deep practice for us as humans. Never give attention to a tantrum. Go forward.” When I heard this from her, I felt my head on her lap, her hand stroking my hair, even though we were thousands of miles apart. I am remembering that I, too, have this wisdom nature within. That the insecurity of arrogance, the shame of anger, the stories of fear, are all held in my own playful, joyous embrace. That everything is exactly as it should be: there’s nothing that can be lost. This remembering may take some time to integrate, but that’s ok. On this lap there’s all the time in the world.
Rejection and Forgiveness
Yesterday I experienced a dear friend turn away from me. It truly shocked me, and struck an old chord of bewilderment in the face of rejection. That evening, my husband and I watched Disobedience, a film about a North London Hasidic Jewish community who rejected a girl because she threatened their beliefs.
These two events opened a doorway within that became a tide of lifetimes of banishment moving through me. Each member of my maternal ancestry, as far back as they are known to me, experienced either leaving or being left, and the pain of it flowed through me. Whether in the name of family honour, religious honour or personal honour, the pattern of rejection for having done nothing more than expressing one’s truth, repeated itself throughout the lineage. It was as if I became a channel for unshed tears, both my own and the generations before me who had been too afraid to cry. As a shock that I didn’t even know was there softened to grief, a profound realisation came over me. That there is no such thing as rejection. There is no leaving. It can only ever be an idea in someone else’s mind. The pain of being rejected is the belief that I can no longer love. But I am always free to love, regardless. And the love itself illuminates the very same delusion in the one apparently rejecting. Each no more than love getting caught in the distortion of fear.
In that space of clarity, each member of my maternal ancestry entered the room, asking for forgiveness. I found myself able to see the fear of their own rejection (from family, community, religion) distorting the deep love they felt for the other. I experienced their love, the grief of self-rejection from denying their own love, and their longing to be forgiven. I forgave, and forgave and forgave. Not the actions which had caused so much harm. But the tender souls too afraid to be true to their hearts. Too threatened by others living with a truth and love they denied themselves. I forgave myself, my father, my friend. Holding a clarity that will never again allow myself to abuse or be abused from fear of further rejection. Remembering that I am free to love, free to forgive, and also free to stand in both power and weakness, and be true to all that I am.
Yesterday I experienced a dear friend turn away from me. It truly shocked me, and struck an old chord of bewilderment in the face of rejection. That evening, my husband and I watched Disobedience, a film about a North London Hasidic Jewish community who rejected a girl because she threatened their beliefs.
These two events opened a doorway within that became a tide of lifetimes of banishment moving through me. Each member of my maternal ancestry, as far back as they are known to me, experienced either leaving or being left, and the pain of it flowed through me. Whether in the name of family honour, religious honour or personal honour, the pattern of rejection for having done nothing more than expressing one’s truth, repeated itself throughout the lineage. It was as if I became a channel for unshed tears, both my own and the generations before me who had been too afraid to cry. As a shock that I didn’t even know was there softened to grief, a profound realisation came over me. That there is no such thing as rejection. There is no leaving. It can only ever be an idea in someone else’s mind. The pain of being rejected is the belief that I can no longer love. But I am always free to love, regardless. And the love itself illuminates the very same delusion in the one apparently rejecting. Each no more than love getting caught in the distortion of fear.
In that space of clarity, each member of my maternal ancestry entered the room, asking for forgiveness. I found myself able to see the fear of their own rejection (from family, community, religion) distorting the deep love they felt for the other. I experienced their love, the grief of self-rejection from denying their own love, and their longing to be forgiven. I forgave, and forgave and forgave. Not the actions which had caused so much harm. But the tender souls too afraid to be true to their hearts. Too threatened by others living with a truth and love they denied themselves. I forgave myself, my father, my friend. Holding a clarity that will never again allow myself to abuse or be abused from fear of further rejection. Remembering that I am free to love, free to forgive, and also free to stand in both power and weakness, and be true to all that I am.
Shadow and Light
In any moment, there is only one thing:
the absolute truth of what is.
When truth unfolds in constant change,
as it always does and always will,
its expression is one of love.
The universe in constant flow,
arising and dissolving: a river of Love.
When we know ourselves to be this flow,
we dissolve into the faces of love
and find no one thing called me.
In terror at the loss of a self so carefully constructed
the mind scrambles to create the illusion of rocks,
clinging to their apparent solidity
to reflect its own idea of being separate and real.
We call this fear: resisting truth,
and arguing with love.
But since fear is no more than a current
of truth in the river of love,
it too is held in infinite embrace.
Until its own exhaustion and suffering
point towards surrender and return.
Could it be that each time we suffer,
it is simply the river calling us home?
Suffering and pain are not the same.
One is the effort of clinging to a rock,
the violence of resisting the river you are.
The other is no more than an expression of truth,
one of infinite ways truth flows as love.
The poignancy of grief, when allowed and held,
shows us love, and the fear of loss.
The fire of anger, when held in grace,
highlights passion, and the belief in separateness.
The stories of lack, of victim or blame,
point to the rocks of unlovable, unworthy, alone,
while the river still whispers the way home.
The truth of the universe is unending flow,
an intimate dance of infinite relationship.
All things entwining and releasing:
expressions of truth moving as love.
As it sees its own face, in infinite ways,
to know itself, in both shadow and light:
through this wild and mysterious dance.
In any moment, there is only one thing:
the absolute truth of what is.
When truth unfolds in constant change,
as it always does and always will,
its expression is one of love.
The universe in constant flow,
arising and dissolving: a river of Love.
When we know ourselves to be this flow,
we dissolve into the faces of love
and find no one thing called me.
In terror at the loss of a self so carefully constructed
the mind scrambles to create the illusion of rocks,
clinging to their apparent solidity
to reflect its own idea of being separate and real.
We call this fear: resisting truth,
and arguing with love.
But since fear is no more than a current
of truth in the river of love,
it too is held in infinite embrace.
Until its own exhaustion and suffering
point towards surrender and return.
Could it be that each time we suffer,
it is simply the river calling us home?
Suffering and pain are not the same.
One is the effort of clinging to a rock,
the violence of resisting the river you are.
The other is no more than an expression of truth,
one of infinite ways truth flows as love.
The poignancy of grief, when allowed and held,
shows us love, and the fear of loss.
The fire of anger, when held in grace,
highlights passion, and the belief in separateness.
The stories of lack, of victim or blame,
point to the rocks of unlovable, unworthy, alone,
while the river still whispers the way home.
The truth of the universe is unending flow,
an intimate dance of infinite relationship.
All things entwining and releasing:
expressions of truth moving as love.
As it sees its own face, in infinite ways,
to know itself, in both shadow and light:
through this wild and mysterious dance.
Imagine…
You are a vast ocean, of great depth and breadth and mystery.
You have been blessed with the gift of knowing yourself:
a self-knowing ocean of Being.
From the depths arises the questions:
Who am I? What am I? Why am I here?
Like bubbles rising to the surface, they create ripples.
The ripples growing to waves of thought
Searching for answers to an ocean they can't define.
We have lived through millennia that favour the waves
afraid of the depths beyond their control.
Scrambling for answers to eternal questions
arising from a self-knowing ocean of Being.
Painstakingly building ships of belief
to float upon waves of thought.
Appearing as something solid, unchanging
in an ocean of constant change.
These beliefs define who we think we are:
so shakily built, like a house of cards
looking for something called love
in a form that was only a dream.
To promote the dream of our paper-thin ship
we display bright colours; to defend its solidity
we bring out the artillery! Attracting, defending
a dream that never was real.
Ah my friends, the storm is now raging!
Waves so afraid to lose the ships
appearing to define this ocean of Being.
Thoughts defending beliefs, in search of Love.
Like a wave searching, searching for something called water.
We create a world of judgement and blame,
fought on a battle ground of fear and separation.
Yet separate only from the Love we are: this self-knowing ocean of Being.
The time has come to return to the ocean.
To surrender the artillery and drop the façade.
To remember with a smile that these ships of fear
were always floating on an ocean of love.
There’s nowhere to go, and nothing to do.
Beyond smiling at the innocence of a search for safety
in an ocean that always had you, loved you.
In an ocean that is you.
Take off your clever robes my friends,
and dive down deeper under.
Enter the depth and breadth and mystery.
To remember the answer to questions the heart always knew
yet the mind could never fathom.
Ah! I am this, and this, and this!
The water of love that knows each current, each form
as no more than its own unending dance.
You are a vast ocean, of great depth and breadth and mystery.
You have been blessed with the gift of knowing yourself:
a self-knowing ocean of Being.
From the depths arises the questions:
Who am I? What am I? Why am I here?
Like bubbles rising to the surface, they create ripples.
The ripples growing to waves of thought
Searching for answers to an ocean they can't define.
We have lived through millennia that favour the waves
afraid of the depths beyond their control.
Scrambling for answers to eternal questions
arising from a self-knowing ocean of Being.
Painstakingly building ships of belief
to float upon waves of thought.
Appearing as something solid, unchanging
in an ocean of constant change.
These beliefs define who we think we are:
so shakily built, like a house of cards
looking for something called love
in a form that was only a dream.
To promote the dream of our paper-thin ship
we display bright colours; to defend its solidity
we bring out the artillery! Attracting, defending
a dream that never was real.
Ah my friends, the storm is now raging!
Waves so afraid to lose the ships
appearing to define this ocean of Being.
Thoughts defending beliefs, in search of Love.
Like a wave searching, searching for something called water.
We create a world of judgement and blame,
fought on a battle ground of fear and separation.
Yet separate only from the Love we are: this self-knowing ocean of Being.
The time has come to return to the ocean.
To surrender the artillery and drop the façade.
To remember with a smile that these ships of fear
were always floating on an ocean of love.
There’s nowhere to go, and nothing to do.
Beyond smiling at the innocence of a search for safety
in an ocean that always had you, loved you.
In an ocean that is you.
Take off your clever robes my friends,
and dive down deeper under.
Enter the depth and breadth and mystery.
To remember the answer to questions the heart always knew
yet the mind could never fathom.
Ah! I am this, and this, and this!
The water of love that knows each current, each form
as no more than its own unending dance.
Hoʻoponopono
Sometimes I write so many words…
only to see that I am talking to myself!
Mind persuading itself of its own opinion,
strengthening its own sense of importance.
The same self-importance that wants to move in to
delete what it now sees as “wrong”
Just to regain its footing as the one who is “right”!
So much noise, so much story of right or wrong
couched in a spiritual language that imagines
it can know anything beyond this breath.
So many words as mind scrambles in the face of
surrendering to the mystery of the heart.
A heart that smiles in recognition
that all beliefs are my own creation.
That life is a great mystery
calling me to surrender everything into her.
Holding up a cosmic mirror to show me who I think I am.
Lovingly reflecting the ways I cling to my definitions of self.
Projecting them on to you to define who I think I am.
Such innocence, creating so much war!
So here are more words, only saying one thing.
Maybe the only thing that can be said:
Hoʻoponopono
I’m sorry
Please forgive me
Thank you
I love you
Sometimes I write so many words…
only to see that I am talking to myself!
Mind persuading itself of its own opinion,
strengthening its own sense of importance.
The same self-importance that wants to move in to
delete what it now sees as “wrong”
Just to regain its footing as the one who is “right”!
So much noise, so much story of right or wrong
couched in a spiritual language that imagines
it can know anything beyond this breath.
So many words as mind scrambles in the face of
surrendering to the mystery of the heart.
A heart that smiles in recognition
that all beliefs are my own creation.
That life is a great mystery
calling me to surrender everything into her.
Holding up a cosmic mirror to show me who I think I am.
Lovingly reflecting the ways I cling to my definitions of self.
Projecting them on to you to define who I think I am.
Such innocence, creating so much war!
So here are more words, only saying one thing.
Maybe the only thing that can be said:
Hoʻoponopono
I’m sorry
Please forgive me
Thank you
I love you
The One Dance
Science now affirms what mystics have understood for centuries: that the foundational nature of reality is relational. Everything exists in relationship with everything else, and all are expressions of the One dance. This sacred dance, the communion with Creation, is unique to each of us. And we discover its particular flavour, rhythm and tone through the mirrors we hold up for each other. Our personal relationships pointing us back to the eternal: through meeting all the places we have made conditional, we surrender back into the unconditional. We discover our authentic dance.
I find myself in a new space right now. Knowing only the ways in which I have allowed this dance to be defined for me, until now. Seeing how I grasp for familiar handholds as I’m asked to free climb onto a new face. I so want to be held in reassurance and safety, I want to trust someone enough to surrender to them to show me the way. But life is showing me something else: the chinks in the perfection of loved ones, teachers, mentors. Asking me: now love this too.
I have fallen to my knees at this challenge. To love the unseen and unawake in the ones I have wanted to hold me. To see where I move in to persuade, point out, remedy what can’t yet be seen, only to appease the part within that longs to be held again. It has shown me where I have placed conditions around the unconditional energies of trust and love. Shown me how strong the instinct is to turn away when those conditions aren’t met. And asked me to remain still and open in the face of the conditional I find in myself.
Now love this too… To truly love the other, and hold them in their perfect imperfection, to honour their path and unfolding. To remain present and respond in love rather than in excuse for, or denial of, what is not yet seen. In fact, to truly love the other simply reveals the parts within that are not yet loved. It shows me my fear, lack of belief in myself. Can I really stand this strong, alone? Am I alone when not attached or entangled? Can I sit in the depth of this not knowing and trust in unfolding itself?
In this new space, with familiar reference points fallen away, I have discovered what it means to pray. Growing up amidst the smug superiority of rationalist atheism, and witnessing immense pain inflicted in the name of God (endless wars, and close to home, the suffering of my grandfather disowning my mother when she married my father), I assumed prayer to be the path of the blind and delusional. My father once said he didn’t mind what I did, as long as I didn’t join the Hari Krishna’s we would see dancing and singing on Oxford Street (something I would remember with a smile as I experienced the heart opening power of Kirtan). I was drawn to yoga and Buddhism because they seemed possible to practice without prayer, not knowing they were teaching me the essence of prayer instead. The entry into direct relationship with this moment. The surrender to that relationship. The sacred dance.
I now understand why the calling has been so strong to the animistic heartways of the Andean-Incan tradition in Peru. To enter now into relationship with Spirit. To be reminded that all things are alive and conscious, sentient and animate, and everything, everything, is asking to be met in sacred dance. The love, support and guidance I have received from these unseen, yet deeply felt realms, is the very thing that has allowed and invited me to relax my grasping of those I love. To soften my resistance around those I struggle with. To love, as I am loved. To trust, as I am entrusted with this sacred path.
I have no idea what it looks like, this path. I only know that I am held in countless ways as I fall. By so many of you, who know who you are, and by the Great Mystery itself. I am so grateful, afraid, excited and perplexed. I can only move as dancer and dance reveal themselves through me. I trust all is incredibly well…
Science now affirms what mystics have understood for centuries: that the foundational nature of reality is relational. Everything exists in relationship with everything else, and all are expressions of the One dance. This sacred dance, the communion with Creation, is unique to each of us. And we discover its particular flavour, rhythm and tone through the mirrors we hold up for each other. Our personal relationships pointing us back to the eternal: through meeting all the places we have made conditional, we surrender back into the unconditional. We discover our authentic dance.
I find myself in a new space right now. Knowing only the ways in which I have allowed this dance to be defined for me, until now. Seeing how I grasp for familiar handholds as I’m asked to free climb onto a new face. I so want to be held in reassurance and safety, I want to trust someone enough to surrender to them to show me the way. But life is showing me something else: the chinks in the perfection of loved ones, teachers, mentors. Asking me: now love this too.
I have fallen to my knees at this challenge. To love the unseen and unawake in the ones I have wanted to hold me. To see where I move in to persuade, point out, remedy what can’t yet be seen, only to appease the part within that longs to be held again. It has shown me where I have placed conditions around the unconditional energies of trust and love. Shown me how strong the instinct is to turn away when those conditions aren’t met. And asked me to remain still and open in the face of the conditional I find in myself.
Now love this too… To truly love the other, and hold them in their perfect imperfection, to honour their path and unfolding. To remain present and respond in love rather than in excuse for, or denial of, what is not yet seen. In fact, to truly love the other simply reveals the parts within that are not yet loved. It shows me my fear, lack of belief in myself. Can I really stand this strong, alone? Am I alone when not attached or entangled? Can I sit in the depth of this not knowing and trust in unfolding itself?
In this new space, with familiar reference points fallen away, I have discovered what it means to pray. Growing up amidst the smug superiority of rationalist atheism, and witnessing immense pain inflicted in the name of God (endless wars, and close to home, the suffering of my grandfather disowning my mother when she married my father), I assumed prayer to be the path of the blind and delusional. My father once said he didn’t mind what I did, as long as I didn’t join the Hari Krishna’s we would see dancing and singing on Oxford Street (something I would remember with a smile as I experienced the heart opening power of Kirtan). I was drawn to yoga and Buddhism because they seemed possible to practice without prayer, not knowing they were teaching me the essence of prayer instead. The entry into direct relationship with this moment. The surrender to that relationship. The sacred dance.
I now understand why the calling has been so strong to the animistic heartways of the Andean-Incan tradition in Peru. To enter now into relationship with Spirit. To be reminded that all things are alive and conscious, sentient and animate, and everything, everything, is asking to be met in sacred dance. The love, support and guidance I have received from these unseen, yet deeply felt realms, is the very thing that has allowed and invited me to relax my grasping of those I love. To soften my resistance around those I struggle with. To love, as I am loved. To trust, as I am entrusted with this sacred path.
I have no idea what it looks like, this path. I only know that I am held in countless ways as I fall. By so many of you, who know who you are, and by the Great Mystery itself. I am so grateful, afraid, excited and perplexed. I can only move as dancer and dance reveal themselves through me. I trust all is incredibly well…
Peru
I have just returned from a 10-day retreat in the high mountains of Peru, working directly with the Altomisayoqs and Apus of the Andean-Incan Holy Mountain Tradition. I feel like I am looking at all things through new eyes, and hope I can share some of this journey with you. It is a journey that began a long time ago for me, with the everyday core wounds that are shared by so many, yet recognised by few. These sometimes inevitable, sometimes traumatic experiences that made up the fabric of my childhood, created unconscious beliefs of being unlovable, unimportant, and not belonging. These are beliefs we all share at some level, formulated to protect against, and make sense of, the unimaginable pain of what we perceive to be a lack of love, value and presence, but which is only ever the pain of leaving our wholeness. By unconsciously creating a belief, or explanation, for this experience of separation from love, we imagine we can go out and “fix” this “problem” by possessing love, creating importance, and ensuring we belong. Not realising that this dance simply reinforces the separation by buying into the very illusion that creates it. It is the painful play of duality we witness all around and within us, and one I have been increasingly conscious of over the last few years.
But it is one thing to understand this conceptually! For me to begin to shatter these self-limiting beliefs and remember the freedom of authentic nature, I had first to be willing to expose and feel the full depth of pain beneath that they had been defending.
My understanding is that none of this is a mistake, however. We are all here on Earth as an opportunity for soul growth. For this soul to fully know its own Essence nature, it needs to experience an apparent lack of Essence. We choose to enter this realm of duality to experience separation, and from there, to consciously know and choose wholeness. We choose to experience the illusion of lack of love, in order to come to know Love more fully and directly. Being in this realm of time, space and matter, we get to experience separation directly, and the friction (that we call suffering) is the feedback that allows us to grow into recognising freedom in a deeper way. We are pieces of the Universe, learning to know itself.
Much of what unfolds in life is continually being orchestrated at a soul level to invite this healing and growth to arise. How we respond is our choice. We might choose to stay in a blame /shame /victim mindset that reinforces separation (and is the consensus mindset of our dominant culture), in which case life will continue to present us with more opportunities for growth through our own suffering. Or we might eventually take self-responsibility for the reactivity we experience, the belief behind it, and the pain behind that… all of which allows us to recognise within the very qualities we had imagined we were lacking.
For many of us in the West, the learning in this human classroom arises through emotions. It is often in the feeling body that we became trapped, with mind stepping in to defend - and so it is through the release, ownership and forgiveness of suppressed and repressed emotion that we remember who we are and return home. Early wounding occurs in relationship, so healing is often also found through relationship.
I believe that we come together at a soul level to create the conditions for both the experiences of lack, and the healing that follows. I feel that my soul chose experiences that imprinted early beliefs of loss and separation, in order to catapult me on this journey of healing and remembrance.
There are some people in my life that I had an immediate sense of recognition with on meeting them, as if we had known each other from long ago. I see how each of these people have supported me in different ways to open my heart still more, and in that opening, to inevitably meet the very places I had been trying to hide from. Looking back, I see again and again that when I experienced this pain, I would assume it to be the other’s fault: the mind is quick to move to blame when its perspective and very survival is challenged. I see now how often I would unconsciously build others up to be the one to fill the imagined places of lack within, only to tear them down in accusation when pain lovingly revealed itself for true healing instead. The closer I got to the innermost core wounds, the more I would lash out in defence of their exposure. At times I would unconsciously choose to interpret abandonment or a lack of care, where it simply wasn't there, in order to make sense of the feelings within and turn to blame.
With blame, we believe we are preventing ourselves from feeling any more pain by projecting it outwards (or inwards in shame), but the contraction simply closes us off further from the love and connection we long for. And since our soul never gives up on us, it will simply orchestrate another opportunity for us to surrender and heal.
It is so hard for the mind to believe that healing arises through entering the very thing we are most afraid of. The orchestration for me was complex! I first chose the love and safety to enable me to hold the triggers, or keys, to enter the spaces I had been defending. I then chose the triggers to reveal that space. And finally chose to enter an environment in which to truly surrender my mind and resistance on every level to release that which had been held so very long.
This final part was offered to me here in Peru. The Paqos and Altomisayoqs held a deep space of love, support, joy, playfulness and wisdom - and together held the doorway open for the greatest healer and teacher of all: Spirit. The purity of the land and tradition is unparalleled in my experience. To sit with Mother Earth and feel her power, abundance and presence; to be held with the deepest love, support and guidance I have ever known by the Mountain Spirits; took me to a place I have never been before. I literally cried, wordlessly and non-stop, for 3 days. I offered my tears to rivers, sacred stones, earth. I barely slept, the force flowing through me was too strong. Yet I knew I was completely safe, and there was lightness inside that showed me where I had been at war.
Just as this inner birthing was crowning and I thought I couldn't go on any longer, we experienced a particularly profound ceremony connecting us to the Mountain Spirits, and something simply healed inside me. The pain was no longer there, so nor was the trigger. It was as if I had new eyes, and this extraordinary world began to flood in to be met at a whole new level. Fire, full moon, sun, stars, mountains, rivers - all alive, truly intelligent, conscious, loving and calling me home.
I see now that by avoiding this depth of pain within, I was pushing away the very thing I was longing for: connection to Source and to Love, within, between us and between all things.
The journey continues, of course. But I hope now to remember that nothing is quite as it seems, and beyond blame or shame is a reality where everything is an opportunity to heal what has been held in darkness, and bring more of ourselves into the light. Life is an invitation for us all to open our hearts and perspectives to find the treasure where we choose separation, and to apologise to ourselves for protecting from love. As choosing love means choosing life, and life is what we are here for.
Gratitude
Sitting today in gratitude and reverence for all that unfolded these last days on retreat at Sharpham House.
For the divine orchestration showing me that what I most long for is already here.
That asked me to surrender everything I knew to stand naked in offering of Being.
Deep gratitude to the land that held us so profoundly.
Walking barefoot on frosted grass at dawn to swim in the river, mist rising, the moon in front and sun behind.
Grandmother trees whispering wisdom and showing me what it is to stay, always, regardless; to love, always, regardless.
Fire transforming that which no longer serves us, revealing the gold protected within.
Blossom and lambs expressing a joy of aliveness: see how life moves and explodes into this?
Sun and star bathing, held in the womb of the cosmos again.
Deep gratitude to the spirits that guided, held and rejoiced with us, as the feminine stepped out from the shadows and held her rightful place within and between us.
I have never felt so supported: you are with me still now.
Deep gratitude to all you beautiful souls who gave yourselves so fully to the dance.
For dropping the stories of being better or worse, of needing to be more evolved.
For recognising the perfection in both joy and suffering, everything pointing back to the heart of this moment.
Thank you for showing me the infinitely unique and creative ways that love moves. You are always enough.
I have just returned from a 10-day retreat in the high mountains of Peru, working directly with the Altomisayoqs and Apus of the Andean-Incan Holy Mountain Tradition. I feel like I am looking at all things through new eyes, and hope I can share some of this journey with you. It is a journey that began a long time ago for me, with the everyday core wounds that are shared by so many, yet recognised by few. These sometimes inevitable, sometimes traumatic experiences that made up the fabric of my childhood, created unconscious beliefs of being unlovable, unimportant, and not belonging. These are beliefs we all share at some level, formulated to protect against, and make sense of, the unimaginable pain of what we perceive to be a lack of love, value and presence, but which is only ever the pain of leaving our wholeness. By unconsciously creating a belief, or explanation, for this experience of separation from love, we imagine we can go out and “fix” this “problem” by possessing love, creating importance, and ensuring we belong. Not realising that this dance simply reinforces the separation by buying into the very illusion that creates it. It is the painful play of duality we witness all around and within us, and one I have been increasingly conscious of over the last few years.
But it is one thing to understand this conceptually! For me to begin to shatter these self-limiting beliefs and remember the freedom of authentic nature, I had first to be willing to expose and feel the full depth of pain beneath that they had been defending.
My understanding is that none of this is a mistake, however. We are all here on Earth as an opportunity for soul growth. For this soul to fully know its own Essence nature, it needs to experience an apparent lack of Essence. We choose to enter this realm of duality to experience separation, and from there, to consciously know and choose wholeness. We choose to experience the illusion of lack of love, in order to come to know Love more fully and directly. Being in this realm of time, space and matter, we get to experience separation directly, and the friction (that we call suffering) is the feedback that allows us to grow into recognising freedom in a deeper way. We are pieces of the Universe, learning to know itself.
Much of what unfolds in life is continually being orchestrated at a soul level to invite this healing and growth to arise. How we respond is our choice. We might choose to stay in a blame /shame /victim mindset that reinforces separation (and is the consensus mindset of our dominant culture), in which case life will continue to present us with more opportunities for growth through our own suffering. Or we might eventually take self-responsibility for the reactivity we experience, the belief behind it, and the pain behind that… all of which allows us to recognise within the very qualities we had imagined we were lacking.
For many of us in the West, the learning in this human classroom arises through emotions. It is often in the feeling body that we became trapped, with mind stepping in to defend - and so it is through the release, ownership and forgiveness of suppressed and repressed emotion that we remember who we are and return home. Early wounding occurs in relationship, so healing is often also found through relationship.
I believe that we come together at a soul level to create the conditions for both the experiences of lack, and the healing that follows. I feel that my soul chose experiences that imprinted early beliefs of loss and separation, in order to catapult me on this journey of healing and remembrance.
There are some people in my life that I had an immediate sense of recognition with on meeting them, as if we had known each other from long ago. I see how each of these people have supported me in different ways to open my heart still more, and in that opening, to inevitably meet the very places I had been trying to hide from. Looking back, I see again and again that when I experienced this pain, I would assume it to be the other’s fault: the mind is quick to move to blame when its perspective and very survival is challenged. I see now how often I would unconsciously build others up to be the one to fill the imagined places of lack within, only to tear them down in accusation when pain lovingly revealed itself for true healing instead. The closer I got to the innermost core wounds, the more I would lash out in defence of their exposure. At times I would unconsciously choose to interpret abandonment or a lack of care, where it simply wasn't there, in order to make sense of the feelings within and turn to blame.
With blame, we believe we are preventing ourselves from feeling any more pain by projecting it outwards (or inwards in shame), but the contraction simply closes us off further from the love and connection we long for. And since our soul never gives up on us, it will simply orchestrate another opportunity for us to surrender and heal.
It is so hard for the mind to believe that healing arises through entering the very thing we are most afraid of. The orchestration for me was complex! I first chose the love and safety to enable me to hold the triggers, or keys, to enter the spaces I had been defending. I then chose the triggers to reveal that space. And finally chose to enter an environment in which to truly surrender my mind and resistance on every level to release that which had been held so very long.
This final part was offered to me here in Peru. The Paqos and Altomisayoqs held a deep space of love, support, joy, playfulness and wisdom - and together held the doorway open for the greatest healer and teacher of all: Spirit. The purity of the land and tradition is unparalleled in my experience. To sit with Mother Earth and feel her power, abundance and presence; to be held with the deepest love, support and guidance I have ever known by the Mountain Spirits; took me to a place I have never been before. I literally cried, wordlessly and non-stop, for 3 days. I offered my tears to rivers, sacred stones, earth. I barely slept, the force flowing through me was too strong. Yet I knew I was completely safe, and there was lightness inside that showed me where I had been at war.
Just as this inner birthing was crowning and I thought I couldn't go on any longer, we experienced a particularly profound ceremony connecting us to the Mountain Spirits, and something simply healed inside me. The pain was no longer there, so nor was the trigger. It was as if I had new eyes, and this extraordinary world began to flood in to be met at a whole new level. Fire, full moon, sun, stars, mountains, rivers - all alive, truly intelligent, conscious, loving and calling me home.
I see now that by avoiding this depth of pain within, I was pushing away the very thing I was longing for: connection to Source and to Love, within, between us and between all things.
The journey continues, of course. But I hope now to remember that nothing is quite as it seems, and beyond blame or shame is a reality where everything is an opportunity to heal what has been held in darkness, and bring more of ourselves into the light. Life is an invitation for us all to open our hearts and perspectives to find the treasure where we choose separation, and to apologise to ourselves for protecting from love. As choosing love means choosing life, and life is what we are here for.
Gratitude
Sitting today in gratitude and reverence for all that unfolded these last days on retreat at Sharpham House.
For the divine orchestration showing me that what I most long for is already here.
That asked me to surrender everything I knew to stand naked in offering of Being.
Deep gratitude to the land that held us so profoundly.
Walking barefoot on frosted grass at dawn to swim in the river, mist rising, the moon in front and sun behind.
Grandmother trees whispering wisdom and showing me what it is to stay, always, regardless; to love, always, regardless.
Fire transforming that which no longer serves us, revealing the gold protected within.
Blossom and lambs expressing a joy of aliveness: see how life moves and explodes into this?
Sun and star bathing, held in the womb of the cosmos again.
Deep gratitude to the spirits that guided, held and rejoiced with us, as the feminine stepped out from the shadows and held her rightful place within and between us.
I have never felt so supported: you are with me still now.
Deep gratitude to all you beautiful souls who gave yourselves so fully to the dance.
For dropping the stories of being better or worse, of needing to be more evolved.
For recognising the perfection in both joy and suffering, everything pointing back to the heart of this moment.
Thank you for showing me the infinitely unique and creative ways that love moves. You are always enough.
Conversation with the universe
Q: How can I trust that I am loved?
A: You can't. It's impossible to manipulate another's behaviour and get them to be who you think you need them to be for you. But you can remember that you are, in fact, love. As are they. As is everything.
Q: That sounds like a nice idea, but right now all I feel is a smallness inside, and a desperate longing to be held and loved.
A: Perfect. Turn towards that part in yourself and ask her: “Why do you want to be loved?”
Q: (pause...) There's a voice inside that says “I want to be loved so that I can feel safe to love”. Hmm… I didn't expect that answer.
A: Stay with it...
Q: I want to be loved so that I can feel safe. I want to be loved so that I can keep stepping forward into the unknown. I want to be loved so that I can open myself more and more.
Oh… I just want to be loved so that I can be me! Wow.
A: How does it feel right now as you listen to yourself?
Q: There's a part within that feels heard and seen. Excited, in the self-recognition. Something has relaxed. Oh my goodness, I realise I feel loved! This is crazy…
A: If you feel loved simply by being in your own presence, by witnessing your own inner gaze, what does this say about who you are?
Q: It’s like a part of me is love, and a part of me is wanting to be loved.
A: Which part changes, and which part remains?
Q: Oh yes… I see that the wanting to be loved is already changing! But the love stays. It’s like the space that holds the change.
Does this mean that all this time I’ve been asking the wrong question?
A: No my love, you were asking the perfect question. You were simply looking for the answer in the wrong place…
Q: How can I trust that I am loved?
A: You can't. It's impossible to manipulate another's behaviour and get them to be who you think you need them to be for you. But you can remember that you are, in fact, love. As are they. As is everything.
Q: That sounds like a nice idea, but right now all I feel is a smallness inside, and a desperate longing to be held and loved.
A: Perfect. Turn towards that part in yourself and ask her: “Why do you want to be loved?”
Q: (pause...) There's a voice inside that says “I want to be loved so that I can feel safe to love”. Hmm… I didn't expect that answer.
A: Stay with it...
Q: I want to be loved so that I can feel safe. I want to be loved so that I can keep stepping forward into the unknown. I want to be loved so that I can open myself more and more.
Oh… I just want to be loved so that I can be me! Wow.
A: How does it feel right now as you listen to yourself?
Q: There's a part within that feels heard and seen. Excited, in the self-recognition. Something has relaxed. Oh my goodness, I realise I feel loved! This is crazy…
A: If you feel loved simply by being in your own presence, by witnessing your own inner gaze, what does this say about who you are?
Q: It’s like a part of me is love, and a part of me is wanting to be loved.
A: Which part changes, and which part remains?
Q: Oh yes… I see that the wanting to be loved is already changing! But the love stays. It’s like the space that holds the change.
Does this mean that all this time I’ve been asking the wrong question?
A: No my love, you were asking the perfect question. You were simply looking for the answer in the wrong place…
Listen
This is what I am hearing, when I listen.
Every time I think I need something or someone for my idea of fulfilment or completion, life shows me I can't have that. In this moment I have the choice to fight or to listen. One makes me a victim of that which I can't have, and keeps me small behind a self created mask of rejection. The other whispers that self-fulfilment and true acceptance is already here.
Of course there are many other times that life appears to offer what I think I need, but those gifts might go unnoticed, or be taken for granted as I continue on my search for fulfilment.
The same applies to what I think I don't want. When it's here, I can choose to fight it... or listen. When it's not here, I can choose to forget its absence… or listen.
Listening simply reveals the perfection of all things: how everything points back to Source. What I take for granted allows me to experience what I crave. What I crave points me back to what's already here if I choose to listen to the movement of craving beyond story.
Eventually I recognise that everything I'm looking for is already here in its most natural expression. Recognition, meaning, belonging, wholeness and love simply suspended in Being. And what I most crave is to remember that.
In the end, life is nothing more than a love story between me and Source. Every person, place, gift, loss, pain or joy, simply points me back to all that is.
If I choose to listen.
This is what I am hearing, when I listen.
Every time I think I need something or someone for my idea of fulfilment or completion, life shows me I can't have that. In this moment I have the choice to fight or to listen. One makes me a victim of that which I can't have, and keeps me small behind a self created mask of rejection. The other whispers that self-fulfilment and true acceptance is already here.
Of course there are many other times that life appears to offer what I think I need, but those gifts might go unnoticed, or be taken for granted as I continue on my search for fulfilment.
The same applies to what I think I don't want. When it's here, I can choose to fight it... or listen. When it's not here, I can choose to forget its absence… or listen.
Listening simply reveals the perfection of all things: how everything points back to Source. What I take for granted allows me to experience what I crave. What I crave points me back to what's already here if I choose to listen to the movement of craving beyond story.
Eventually I recognise that everything I'm looking for is already here in its most natural expression. Recognition, meaning, belonging, wholeness and love simply suspended in Being. And what I most crave is to remember that.
In the end, life is nothing more than a love story between me and Source. Every person, place, gift, loss, pain or joy, simply points me back to all that is.
If I choose to listen.
Web of Life
Sitting this morning in infinite gratitude for the intricate web of support that surrounds me. Each delicate thread unique and essential in illuminating another face of love. Helping, holding, reminding, redirecting. Inviting me to both wake up and grow up hand in hand. To not only recognise the light, but embody it too.
Such deep gratitude and love to you, my beautiful husband, children, parents, brothers, sisters, friends, colleagues, teachers, mentors, students, tribe. You each show me a new face of love, expressed with grace and ease where I have struggled or been lost. You pull me back, again and again, to include this aspect, this angle, to help me believe that my heart too can be as multifaceted as a diamond.
Such profound gratitude and love for the infinite love, support, nourishment and direction I receive from this Earth and Sky and the often unseen but always heard forces they hold. I am learning to surrender to the love you reveal, to the path that you show me. I hear your invitation now to grow up from the child seeking fulfilment, and take responsibility as one that knows this love. To accept my mantle and step forward to truly offer back as well as receive.
Each and every one of you hold this web in the perfect balance between tension and slack. I am learning to listen. I hope I am learning to love you back as much as you each deserve.
Sitting this morning in infinite gratitude for the intricate web of support that surrounds me. Each delicate thread unique and essential in illuminating another face of love. Helping, holding, reminding, redirecting. Inviting me to both wake up and grow up hand in hand. To not only recognise the light, but embody it too.
Such deep gratitude and love to you, my beautiful husband, children, parents, brothers, sisters, friends, colleagues, teachers, mentors, students, tribe. You each show me a new face of love, expressed with grace and ease where I have struggled or been lost. You pull me back, again and again, to include this aspect, this angle, to help me believe that my heart too can be as multifaceted as a diamond.
Such profound gratitude and love for the infinite love, support, nourishment and direction I receive from this Earth and Sky and the often unseen but always heard forces they hold. I am learning to surrender to the love you reveal, to the path that you show me. I hear your invitation now to grow up from the child seeking fulfilment, and take responsibility as one that knows this love. To accept my mantle and step forward to truly offer back as well as receive.
Each and every one of you hold this web in the perfect balance between tension and slack. I am learning to listen. I hope I am learning to love you back as much as you each deserve.
We Are This
We are the fragrance of the universe
encapsulated in form.
Like this white rose, unfurling her petals
not because it's safe,
nor to capture our love,
but because it's the outbreath of all she is.
I remember this, and then I forget.
Again and again.
You show me your face
and I see my reflection.
We've come to remind each other
who we really are.
It might be a flash:
an inhalation of remembrance.
It may be days
giddy with clarity.
Months or moments of sweet return, yet
uncovering, revealing another forgetting.
Like the rose withdrawing her scent
because we're not worthy or complete.
Contracting her petals
because nobody admired or praised.
Is it safe to love? Am I loved?
Am I loved? Is it safe to love?
So innocent this forgetting
reminding that love calls equally within.
To tend to the thorns as well as the bloom.
To remember there's no becoming, no arrival
Simply the inhale and exhale
of this precious life.
As we unfurl our petals
and offer our fragrance
to all that is,
just because
it's the outbreath
of all that we are.
We are the fragrance of the universe
encapsulated in form.
Like this white rose, unfurling her petals
not because it's safe,
nor to capture our love,
but because it's the outbreath of all she is.
I remember this, and then I forget.
Again and again.
You show me your face
and I see my reflection.
We've come to remind each other
who we really are.
It might be a flash:
an inhalation of remembrance.
It may be days
giddy with clarity.
Months or moments of sweet return, yet
uncovering, revealing another forgetting.
Like the rose withdrawing her scent
because we're not worthy or complete.
Contracting her petals
because nobody admired or praised.
Is it safe to love? Am I loved?
Am I loved? Is it safe to love?
So innocent this forgetting
reminding that love calls equally within.
To tend to the thorns as well as the bloom.
To remember there's no becoming, no arrival
Simply the inhale and exhale
of this precious life.
As we unfurl our petals
and offer our fragrance
to all that is,
just because
it's the outbreath
of all that we are.
Dear Brilliant Narcissist,
You were my first love. I know you well. I am drawn to the light that radiates from every form I encounter you in. You know, feel, see more than others do. Larger than life, your promise is that I, too, can enter this world with you.
If…
We can dance together in this hallowed space, safe from the stultifying density of normality. You promise to hold me there with your bright and addictive presence.
As long as…
The contract is an unwritten one, expressed in unwillingness to ever be wrong, shared through lengthy explanations of how it’s me, him, her or them. Anyone, everyone’s fault. Anything to not feel the smallness within. To deny a crippling belief in your own insignificance.
People are food. You eat them from the inside out. Choosing the pieces that make you feel whole. Discarding when you are full. Seduction always at the tip of your tongue, such easy prey. Such a hollow search for wholeness.
Dear Brilliant Narcissist,
I am eternally grateful. You light me up and show me all that I already am. Like a moth to the flame you pull me, then show me the fire in my belly. How to fly into the light and stop before I burn. You have taught me, my loves, to never give away my soul to anyone or anything ever again. I have learned that I no longer need to deny your light to save my own wings.
I’m here neither protected nor hoping, just curious and open. Knowing I won’t leave myself for either beloved or predator, I no longer need to figure you out or decide which one is true. It’s the lesson a gentler soul might never have taught me. That this heart is so incredibly radiant, it needs nobody’s light to make it shine. Which means anyone’s light can, in fact, shine beside it.
Dear Brilliant Narcissist,
Thank you, I love you.
You were my first love. I know you well. I am drawn to the light that radiates from every form I encounter you in. You know, feel, see more than others do. Larger than life, your promise is that I, too, can enter this world with you.
If…
We can dance together in this hallowed space, safe from the stultifying density of normality. You promise to hold me there with your bright and addictive presence.
As long as…
The contract is an unwritten one, expressed in unwillingness to ever be wrong, shared through lengthy explanations of how it’s me, him, her or them. Anyone, everyone’s fault. Anything to not feel the smallness within. To deny a crippling belief in your own insignificance.
People are food. You eat them from the inside out. Choosing the pieces that make you feel whole. Discarding when you are full. Seduction always at the tip of your tongue, such easy prey. Such a hollow search for wholeness.
Dear Brilliant Narcissist,
I am eternally grateful. You light me up and show me all that I already am. Like a moth to the flame you pull me, then show me the fire in my belly. How to fly into the light and stop before I burn. You have taught me, my loves, to never give away my soul to anyone or anything ever again. I have learned that I no longer need to deny your light to save my own wings.
I’m here neither protected nor hoping, just curious and open. Knowing I won’t leave myself for either beloved or predator, I no longer need to figure you out or decide which one is true. It’s the lesson a gentler soul might never have taught me. That this heart is so incredibly radiant, it needs nobody’s light to make it shine. Which means anyone’s light can, in fact, shine beside it.
Dear Brilliant Narcissist,
Thank you, I love you.
Ah... envy!
In the forest of the heart there’s an innocent child left in the shadows.
Even as her companions of anger, grief and fear are being tentatively called forward to be met, envy remains hidden.
So, we’re left only with the options of pretending she’s not here, or investing more and more in her narrative. Which you might have noticed, gets quite hot…
In Chinese medicine, jealousy is the sister of anger. When we hold on to them (either by denying their existence, or by identifying with the stories they weave) their imprint is stored in the liver. In this distorted state, anger is a manifestation of resistance, and jealousy a manifestation of desire. The push and pull of egoic life.
Envy appears to be saying “I want/need this, but I can’t have it”. Which doubly reinforces the illusion of a deficient self! If I need love or power from out there, it reinforces the belief in unlovable and powerless in here. Confirmed by the second arrow of “somebody else has this, but not me: I don’t and can’t.”
But if we choose to turn towards the shadows of the heart, and meet envy with open arms, she offers us an extraordinary gift. In Taoism, the Hun, or Ethereal soul is the spirit of the Liver, and is the part of us that both holds and enables our life purpose to be fulfilled. When we listen to envy beyond the perspective of lack, we hear that she is calling on us to manifest something that is already here. She is telling us we are ready.
From our perspective of lack and deficiency, we circle around stories of what I want and don’t want and can’t have. How much energy do we put into asking ourselves what we’d like to create? Into offering to the universe what we would like to manifest? This isn’t about artificial self-belief, which is simply another story of the mind, oscillating around inflation and deflation. It’s a deeper listening to, trusting in, and manifesting what we’re here for.
What is it that you’re ready to call forward, cultivate, manifest and create?
Listen to what makes you envious, and perhaps you’ll find it there.
In the forest of the heart there’s an innocent child left in the shadows.
Even as her companions of anger, grief and fear are being tentatively called forward to be met, envy remains hidden.
So, we’re left only with the options of pretending she’s not here, or investing more and more in her narrative. Which you might have noticed, gets quite hot…
In Chinese medicine, jealousy is the sister of anger. When we hold on to them (either by denying their existence, or by identifying with the stories they weave) their imprint is stored in the liver. In this distorted state, anger is a manifestation of resistance, and jealousy a manifestation of desire. The push and pull of egoic life.
Envy appears to be saying “I want/need this, but I can’t have it”. Which doubly reinforces the illusion of a deficient self! If I need love or power from out there, it reinforces the belief in unlovable and powerless in here. Confirmed by the second arrow of “somebody else has this, but not me: I don’t and can’t.”
But if we choose to turn towards the shadows of the heart, and meet envy with open arms, she offers us an extraordinary gift. In Taoism, the Hun, or Ethereal soul is the spirit of the Liver, and is the part of us that both holds and enables our life purpose to be fulfilled. When we listen to envy beyond the perspective of lack, we hear that she is calling on us to manifest something that is already here. She is telling us we are ready.
From our perspective of lack and deficiency, we circle around stories of what I want and don’t want and can’t have. How much energy do we put into asking ourselves what we’d like to create? Into offering to the universe what we would like to manifest? This isn’t about artificial self-belief, which is simply another story of the mind, oscillating around inflation and deflation. It’s a deeper listening to, trusting in, and manifesting what we’re here for.
What is it that you’re ready to call forward, cultivate, manifest and create?
Listen to what makes you envious, and perhaps you’ll find it there.
Why Retreat?
I find there’s a natural rhythm to any journey of growth, whether in the cycle of my own exploration or the flow of a class. But the retreat experience is one that allows this unfolding with most depth and grace.
We begin with safety. Feeling seen and heard by those around us. Reconnecting to the body. To the ground, our breathing, the sensations of aliveness. Connecting to the subtle energies that hold and guide us. Learning to feel safe enough to begin to surrender the mind’s habitual protections. Beginning to feel.
Once we exhale out of fight-flight-freeze mode, we begin to explore how to enter into direct relationship with this moment. We recognise how strong the tendency is to deny, avoid or suppress what is arising by losing ourselves in narrative; contracting and collapsing the body; searching for alternative stimulus. We learn, in safety, how to return from mind to body. How to soften around contraction and make space around collapse. How to enliven this moment with bare attention. How to surrender to the heart and listen to the guidance that is always here calling us home.
We begin to trust in the possibility of staying close to the feelings in our body, with curiosity and kindness, even when it hurts and mind tells us to run. As we wake up to feeling more, deepening our connection to the unseen realms that hold and guide us, our hearts begin to open. We feel more lightness, joy, wonder. Everything brightens, intensifies, deepens and widens. There’s an extraordinary connection that grows between us as we unfold together, side by side, even in silence. Deep respect, understanding, curiosity, compassion. Love.
It’s a rhythm that moves from safety to trust, to surrender to remembrance. Coming home.
Welcome.
I find there’s a natural rhythm to any journey of growth, whether in the cycle of my own exploration or the flow of a class. But the retreat experience is one that allows this unfolding with most depth and grace.
We begin with safety. Feeling seen and heard by those around us. Reconnecting to the body. To the ground, our breathing, the sensations of aliveness. Connecting to the subtle energies that hold and guide us. Learning to feel safe enough to begin to surrender the mind’s habitual protections. Beginning to feel.
Once we exhale out of fight-flight-freeze mode, we begin to explore how to enter into direct relationship with this moment. We recognise how strong the tendency is to deny, avoid or suppress what is arising by losing ourselves in narrative; contracting and collapsing the body; searching for alternative stimulus. We learn, in safety, how to return from mind to body. How to soften around contraction and make space around collapse. How to enliven this moment with bare attention. How to surrender to the heart and listen to the guidance that is always here calling us home.
We begin to trust in the possibility of staying close to the feelings in our body, with curiosity and kindness, even when it hurts and mind tells us to run. As we wake up to feeling more, deepening our connection to the unseen realms that hold and guide us, our hearts begin to open. We feel more lightness, joy, wonder. Everything brightens, intensifies, deepens and widens. There’s an extraordinary connection that grows between us as we unfold together, side by side, even in silence. Deep respect, understanding, curiosity, compassion. Love.
It’s a rhythm that moves from safety to trust, to surrender to remembrance. Coming home.
Welcome.
It Was Only Ever An Idea
Since the beginning of this year, I have found myself circling around, then landing in, some of the deepest and oldest places in my heart. These core wounds appear to be universal in nature, perhaps simply because we have all grown up amongst cultures, societies and parents who are not yet fully awake to their potential. From a very young age we were only attuned to, to the extent that people around us could attune to themselves. Only seen, heard, valued to the extent they could see, hear and value themselves. Only loved, and recognised as Love, to the extent that others loved themselves, recognised themselves as Love.
In our innocence, still connected to wholeness and assuming others are connected too, the only way to understand these equally innocent messages of unseen, unheard, unvalued was to reinterpret them as “I am unlovable. I am unimportant. I am unworthy”.
Yet to live with this belief is immediately unbearable. To find ourselves existing as something unlovable is the most excruciating idea we can formulate. It would be a cosmic joke of brutal proportion if the Universe were able to be that cruel. So, we begin to hide from our own assumption. Set out to cover up, disguise, numb or distract ourselves from something that was only ever an idea. Running from a grief we imagine our very survival is dependent on not feeling.
Chinese medicine suggests that holding on to grief (through denying it or identifying with the stories our mind creates around it) distorts the energy of lungs and large intestines. Could it be that we compulsively smoke and eat to suppress grief? Is our compulsive relationship to sex motivated by a longing to feel, for the brief moment that body overrides mind, that we are seen and loved? How many of our addictions are no more than forms of running away from something that was only ever an idea?
Like any addiction, the more we look outwards to deny this grief or prove our lovability, the more we reinforce the pain. The more we attempt to escape it, the more we are telling ourselves that it must be true! Otherwise, why avoid? If we didn’t imagine the pain of this moment pointed towards a deficient self, we would simply hold that pain lovingly, until it passed.
If you have felt that turning towards these places of hurt is self-indulgent, destructive, a waste of precious time (I have heard all these viewpoints), I can only urge you to look deeper and recognise that by avoiding fear, grief or anger, you are reinforcing the belief that lies behind it. By denying, suppressing or escaping, you are strengthening a self-belief so crippling that it starts to direct you from the background.
It’s only when you look these feelings lovingly in the eyes, with open hands and heart, and feel them fully, courageously, without story, that you see: this feeling is innocent!
Simply arising from a belief, that was only ever an idea.
Since the beginning of this year, I have found myself circling around, then landing in, some of the deepest and oldest places in my heart. These core wounds appear to be universal in nature, perhaps simply because we have all grown up amongst cultures, societies and parents who are not yet fully awake to their potential. From a very young age we were only attuned to, to the extent that people around us could attune to themselves. Only seen, heard, valued to the extent they could see, hear and value themselves. Only loved, and recognised as Love, to the extent that others loved themselves, recognised themselves as Love.
In our innocence, still connected to wholeness and assuming others are connected too, the only way to understand these equally innocent messages of unseen, unheard, unvalued was to reinterpret them as “I am unlovable. I am unimportant. I am unworthy”.
Yet to live with this belief is immediately unbearable. To find ourselves existing as something unlovable is the most excruciating idea we can formulate. It would be a cosmic joke of brutal proportion if the Universe were able to be that cruel. So, we begin to hide from our own assumption. Set out to cover up, disguise, numb or distract ourselves from something that was only ever an idea. Running from a grief we imagine our very survival is dependent on not feeling.
Chinese medicine suggests that holding on to grief (through denying it or identifying with the stories our mind creates around it) distorts the energy of lungs and large intestines. Could it be that we compulsively smoke and eat to suppress grief? Is our compulsive relationship to sex motivated by a longing to feel, for the brief moment that body overrides mind, that we are seen and loved? How many of our addictions are no more than forms of running away from something that was only ever an idea?
Like any addiction, the more we look outwards to deny this grief or prove our lovability, the more we reinforce the pain. The more we attempt to escape it, the more we are telling ourselves that it must be true! Otherwise, why avoid? If we didn’t imagine the pain of this moment pointed towards a deficient self, we would simply hold that pain lovingly, until it passed.
If you have felt that turning towards these places of hurt is self-indulgent, destructive, a waste of precious time (I have heard all these viewpoints), I can only urge you to look deeper and recognise that by avoiding fear, grief or anger, you are reinforcing the belief that lies behind it. By denying, suppressing or escaping, you are strengthening a self-belief so crippling that it starts to direct you from the background.
It’s only when you look these feelings lovingly in the eyes, with open hands and heart, and feel them fully, courageously, without story, that you see: this feeling is innocent!
Simply arising from a belief, that was only ever an idea.
The Story of the Caterpillar with Great Heart and Strong Mind
Once was a land, whether far away in space, or in time, or even outside of time and space, where a caterpillar of great heart and strong mind roamed and thrived.
Her heart sang songs of a freedom her mind couldn’t conceive. Of a lightness of being, a buoyancy of spirit, and a depth of vision that could perceive fields of flowers in breathtaking array.
Her mind was strong and grew afraid of these visions, recognising the threat to all that she knew. For something to be born, something else must die.
With a cleverness stronger than wisdom, she mocked the truth of birth and death and declared herself immortal. “I will build my own wings to pacify this gnawing ache in my heart. Even brighter, bigger and finer than those in my dreams! I will reach that majesty and nothing need die!”
So she created great wings which she attached to her wrinkled body. Drew magnificent landscapes which she observed as she crawled along her leaf.
Yet the emptiness still ate away inside. In cleverness, unperturbed, she made agreements with other caterpillars. “You tell me each day how beautiful, successful, important and valued I am, and I will do the same for you. If you hesitate, deviate or falter, I will withdraw my admiration too. This agreement is binding”.
In the land of the caterpillars with great hearts and strong minds, the circus began. Of praise and blame, fame and shame, pleasure and pain, gain and loss. Of the mind’s search for immortality amidst the heart’s knowing of true freedom.
Until one day our heroin, her body calloused and contracted with the weight of resisting her heart’s calling, found she had no more fight. With her new wings broken, her lover still unable to convince, fulfil or distract her, she simply let go. No one was around when it happened. No one thanked her or praised her. There was no effort, no struggle. She didn’t even know that she did it. Like a leaf falling from a tree, she just let go.
She listened to her heart one day and felt curious. Something softened, and she entered deep inside herself to meet all the places she had been running from. In a cocoon of presence, she met her fear and discovered it was only a child, whom she held, tenderly.
She remained here, listening, not knowing, grieving, breathing and remembering for many hours. Maybe days. Perhaps months. Nobody knows. Until the song in her heart became loud again, clear again, calling her to stretch and stand and walk again. In a form her mind no longer tried to recognise, yet her heart always knew, she spread her wings.
And discovered, now, a lightness of being, a buoyancy of spirit, and a depth of vision that could perceive fields of flowers in breathtaking array.
Once was a land, whether far away in space, or in time, or even outside of time and space, where a caterpillar of great heart and strong mind roamed and thrived.
Her heart sang songs of a freedom her mind couldn’t conceive. Of a lightness of being, a buoyancy of spirit, and a depth of vision that could perceive fields of flowers in breathtaking array.
Her mind was strong and grew afraid of these visions, recognising the threat to all that she knew. For something to be born, something else must die.
With a cleverness stronger than wisdom, she mocked the truth of birth and death and declared herself immortal. “I will build my own wings to pacify this gnawing ache in my heart. Even brighter, bigger and finer than those in my dreams! I will reach that majesty and nothing need die!”
So she created great wings which she attached to her wrinkled body. Drew magnificent landscapes which she observed as she crawled along her leaf.
Yet the emptiness still ate away inside. In cleverness, unperturbed, she made agreements with other caterpillars. “You tell me each day how beautiful, successful, important and valued I am, and I will do the same for you. If you hesitate, deviate or falter, I will withdraw my admiration too. This agreement is binding”.
In the land of the caterpillars with great hearts and strong minds, the circus began. Of praise and blame, fame and shame, pleasure and pain, gain and loss. Of the mind’s search for immortality amidst the heart’s knowing of true freedom.
Until one day our heroin, her body calloused and contracted with the weight of resisting her heart’s calling, found she had no more fight. With her new wings broken, her lover still unable to convince, fulfil or distract her, she simply let go. No one was around when it happened. No one thanked her or praised her. There was no effort, no struggle. She didn’t even know that she did it. Like a leaf falling from a tree, she just let go.
She listened to her heart one day and felt curious. Something softened, and she entered deep inside herself to meet all the places she had been running from. In a cocoon of presence, she met her fear and discovered it was only a child, whom she held, tenderly.
She remained here, listening, not knowing, grieving, breathing and remembering for many hours. Maybe days. Perhaps months. Nobody knows. Until the song in her heart became loud again, clear again, calling her to stretch and stand and walk again. In a form her mind no longer tried to recognise, yet her heart always knew, she spread her wings.
And discovered, now, a lightness of being, a buoyancy of spirit, and a depth of vision that could perceive fields of flowers in breathtaking array.
Women Awaken!
Together we are birthing!
The awakened feminine is crowning
Can you hear our mother's cries?
Can you sense our first breath on this earth only moments away?
For over 10,000 years we've turned away from ourselves!
Come to disbelieve in our greatness
Hidden from our power
Denied our sovereignty and grace
In our poverty, we've asked our brothers to protect us
In our scarcity, we've competed with our sisters for safety
Believing we could be victims we’ve invited persecutors into the dance
To become victims too to their own persecution
Sisters feel your roar!
Has the mirror of time ever shown us our awakened face?
Women who have shone in their own light
without reflecting the radiance of son, father, husband, brother?
Do you believe this can be you?
When you shout to the world
“Can’t you see who I am?”
Do you realise you are shouting to yourself?
Can you see who you are?
Feel the roar rip through you!
We are walking a pathless path
Setting a blueprint for our sons and daughters:
The awakened feminine dances
Like this
Together we are birthing!
The awakened feminine is crowning
Can you hear our mother's cries?
Can you sense our first breath on this earth only moments away?
For over 10,000 years we've turned away from ourselves!
Come to disbelieve in our greatness
Hidden from our power
Denied our sovereignty and grace
In our poverty, we've asked our brothers to protect us
In our scarcity, we've competed with our sisters for safety
Believing we could be victims we’ve invited persecutors into the dance
To become victims too to their own persecution
Sisters feel your roar!
Has the mirror of time ever shown us our awakened face?
Women who have shone in their own light
without reflecting the radiance of son, father, husband, brother?
Do you believe this can be you?
When you shout to the world
“Can’t you see who I am?”
Do you realise you are shouting to yourself?
Can you see who you are?
Feel the roar rip through you!
We are walking a pathless path
Setting a blueprint for our sons and daughters:
The awakened feminine dances
Like this
Somewhere In Our Heart
Somewhere in our heart, each one of us remembers who we are.
Some place inside knows the experience of unshakeable belonging, of infinite space, of joyful participation in the dance of unfolding.
Somewhere inside us, there’s a knowing that our hearts beat with the heart of the universe, to a frequency called Love.
We already belong, a child of Love.
We’ve come to express this belonging in form.
To be here, Love embodied.
And so it began, the journey of forgetting ourselves in order to remember.
Of coming into a body so vulnerable and raw, in a world that didn’t yet celebrate our sensitivity or recognise our wholeness.
The journey of leaving our Self to keep this form safe: to protect our heart from the depth and breadth of all that it feels in a world still raging against its own loss.
In the parting, we created a scar, a wound of separation so deep, that ensured we would always find our way home, no matter what we found in the world.
Somewhere in our heart, each one of us carries this pain of separation.
The knife of abandonment of Self. The loss of belief in our vastness.
Through the lens of the very loss that believes we are separate, the very illusion that created the wound, we began the fruitless search to find a balm for this pain by looking outwards into the world.
To find union with another as if it could mirror the union of a return to Self.
To find validation of a personal greatness as if it could mirror the vastness of Being.
To find security of belonging through acquisition of people and things, as if it could mirror the innate belonging to all.
No amount of love, success and accumulation can possibly touch the depth of this wound of separation from Self.
It’s a perfect plan. There’s no mistake.
The pain returns, again and again, until we discover the true gift of free will.
Until we remember we can choose to listen, come close, take care.
Take responsibility, here, now, within.
Until we turn inwards towards the pain in our heart, recognising it as a faithful messenger of loss.
And simply love.
Hold tenderly the feelings of insignificance, emptiness, fear.
Unlovability, unworthiness, unimportance.
Hold firmly the mind that strains to fix or avoid by reaching for someone or something to numb the pain.
We move through the portal of the heart, courageously and patiently, loving all the reminders that were left there as signposts for our return.
Until we recognise ourselves once again as the love that knows this.
As the space that holds this.
As whole and complete.
Already powerful, at home and free.
Long, long ago, we left the garden of Eden to discover free will and experience the illusion of a separate self.
So that we could find our way back from form to formless, from Earth to Heaven, and discover they have always been, and will always be, one and the same.
Somewhere in our heart, each one of us remembers who we are.
Some place inside knows the experience of unshakeable belonging, of infinite space, of joyful participation in the dance of unfolding.
Somewhere inside us, there’s a knowing that our hearts beat with the heart of the universe, to a frequency called Love.
We already belong, a child of Love.
We’ve come to express this belonging in form.
To be here, Love embodied.
And so it began, the journey of forgetting ourselves in order to remember.
Of coming into a body so vulnerable and raw, in a world that didn’t yet celebrate our sensitivity or recognise our wholeness.
The journey of leaving our Self to keep this form safe: to protect our heart from the depth and breadth of all that it feels in a world still raging against its own loss.
In the parting, we created a scar, a wound of separation so deep, that ensured we would always find our way home, no matter what we found in the world.
Somewhere in our heart, each one of us carries this pain of separation.
The knife of abandonment of Self. The loss of belief in our vastness.
Through the lens of the very loss that believes we are separate, the very illusion that created the wound, we began the fruitless search to find a balm for this pain by looking outwards into the world.
To find union with another as if it could mirror the union of a return to Self.
To find validation of a personal greatness as if it could mirror the vastness of Being.
To find security of belonging through acquisition of people and things, as if it could mirror the innate belonging to all.
No amount of love, success and accumulation can possibly touch the depth of this wound of separation from Self.
It’s a perfect plan. There’s no mistake.
The pain returns, again and again, until we discover the true gift of free will.
Until we remember we can choose to listen, come close, take care.
Take responsibility, here, now, within.
Until we turn inwards towards the pain in our heart, recognising it as a faithful messenger of loss.
And simply love.
Hold tenderly the feelings of insignificance, emptiness, fear.
Unlovability, unworthiness, unimportance.
Hold firmly the mind that strains to fix or avoid by reaching for someone or something to numb the pain.
We move through the portal of the heart, courageously and patiently, loving all the reminders that were left there as signposts for our return.
Until we recognise ourselves once again as the love that knows this.
As the space that holds this.
As whole and complete.
Already powerful, at home and free.
Long, long ago, we left the garden of Eden to discover free will and experience the illusion of a separate self.
So that we could find our way back from form to formless, from Earth to Heaven, and discover they have always been, and will always be, one and the same.
I Release into the Sacred Fire
I release into the sacred fire my belief that I have to edit, manage, manicure or prepare, in order to be safe and accepted.
May I be willing to trust in the simplicity, honesty, and realness of who I am, and all that is emerging in this moment. May I learn to trust in authenticity and self-responsibility above all else.
I release into the sacred fire my fear of being unimportant, not valued, without a place. Fears of being alone, different, not accepted.
May I be willing to feel feelings of smallness and valueless, and give them a sacred place in my heart. May I be willing to feel the grace of aloneness as I stand in my own integrity, sovereignty and truth. May I remember that I can never be separate from the whole.
I release into the sacred fire my desire to be somewhere else, with someone else, doing something different.
May I be willing to feel the parts that are unhealed and unfulfilled in myself, without searching for healing and fulfilment on the outside. May I recognise this longing to return to wholeness, and see where I mistakenly look for the eternal in the external, and bring myself home.
I release into the sacred fire all the ways I avoid feeling the greatest loss of all: the loss of my own essence. Where I avoid my greatest wound, the abandonment of Self.
May I be willing to feel the profound sensitivity and vulnerability of this Being, as I return to my own heart, and breathe into life once again. May I be willing to stand naked, my heart like a feather anchored in the bedrock of the Earth, a beacon of love.
May it be so
I release into the sacred fire my belief that I have to edit, manage, manicure or prepare, in order to be safe and accepted.
May I be willing to trust in the simplicity, honesty, and realness of who I am, and all that is emerging in this moment. May I learn to trust in authenticity and self-responsibility above all else.
I release into the sacred fire my fear of being unimportant, not valued, without a place. Fears of being alone, different, not accepted.
May I be willing to feel feelings of smallness and valueless, and give them a sacred place in my heart. May I be willing to feel the grace of aloneness as I stand in my own integrity, sovereignty and truth. May I remember that I can never be separate from the whole.
I release into the sacred fire my desire to be somewhere else, with someone else, doing something different.
May I be willing to feel the parts that are unhealed and unfulfilled in myself, without searching for healing and fulfilment on the outside. May I recognise this longing to return to wholeness, and see where I mistakenly look for the eternal in the external, and bring myself home.
I release into the sacred fire all the ways I avoid feeling the greatest loss of all: the loss of my own essence. Where I avoid my greatest wound, the abandonment of Self.
May I be willing to feel the profound sensitivity and vulnerability of this Being, as I return to my own heart, and breathe into life once again. May I be willing to stand naked, my heart like a feather anchored in the bedrock of the Earth, a beacon of love.
May it be so
This Moment
I found this poem today, as I was sifting through a pile of papers from university days.
Written in 1995 when I was 24, I see how I still draw from the same well, and that I had tasted a certain truth then too.
But I also recognise that I had not yet digested what I had tasted.
That waking up is not the moment of bright white realisation I had assumed it to be, but rather a humble work of deep excavation, to bring all the lost parts of my heart into that light.
I see threads in my life running forward and back with consistency and grace, and realise that listening and trusting have always been my greatest supports.
I am reminded that when I am genuinely inside this moment, it always offers everything that I need to find my way home.
I AM ALIVE (Edinburgh, 1995)
I am alive.
I am infinite, peaceful, expansive.
I am aware of thoughts, emotions and sensations:
they rise, fall and pass away to rise again like waves in this sea of vastness.
Forever changing, the whole forever constant.
I have deep intrinsic knowledge:
I know all things experience this same ocean
their waves are different and they move to different tides.
When I focus on a wave, imagining it exists alone
I am lonely and confused.
I search for something always elusive:
I search for comfort and meaning.
If I think, and think thought is what I am, solid, an entity
I feel the pain of change as the waves come and go.
If I listen to the silences between the words
I sink back into the ocean.
I see the waves and find there is nothing that is me.
I emerge, open and responsive, as everything.
I am alive.
I found this poem today, as I was sifting through a pile of papers from university days.
Written in 1995 when I was 24, I see how I still draw from the same well, and that I had tasted a certain truth then too.
But I also recognise that I had not yet digested what I had tasted.
That waking up is not the moment of bright white realisation I had assumed it to be, but rather a humble work of deep excavation, to bring all the lost parts of my heart into that light.
I see threads in my life running forward and back with consistency and grace, and realise that listening and trusting have always been my greatest supports.
I am reminded that when I am genuinely inside this moment, it always offers everything that I need to find my way home.
I AM ALIVE (Edinburgh, 1995)
I am alive.
I am infinite, peaceful, expansive.
I am aware of thoughts, emotions and sensations:
they rise, fall and pass away to rise again like waves in this sea of vastness.
Forever changing, the whole forever constant.
I have deep intrinsic knowledge:
I know all things experience this same ocean
their waves are different and they move to different tides.
When I focus on a wave, imagining it exists alone
I am lonely and confused.
I search for something always elusive:
I search for comfort and meaning.
If I think, and think thought is what I am, solid, an entity
I feel the pain of change as the waves come and go.
If I listen to the silences between the words
I sink back into the ocean.
I see the waves and find there is nothing that is me.
I emerge, open and responsive, as everything.
I am alive.
You Show Me My Self
I long for nature
Soil underfoot, sand between toes
The smell of leaves
the stretch of branches
Arc of the sky
expanse of mountains
Power of oceans
You feed me, flush me
Fill me with my self
But when I miss you and
want to be held in your rugged arms
I remember it's me I'm missing
That I've allowed myself to become smaller
without your reflection
I remember this missing
as a call to come home,
to land in my own Being
Then sometimes I long for love
The depth of your eyes,
aliveness of your touch
The dance between us like mirrors
reflecting spirit in infinite ways
You show me my self
As I wake up and stand up
and delight in these wings,
in this power and grace
expressed in your presence
But when I miss you and
find you're not here
I remember, eventually, it's me I'm missing
That I'm allowing a part of myself to die
outside of your reflection
I remember first and foremost
I’m calling myself
to fall back in love with my own shining
At times I long for tribe
To be amongst kindred souls
who share my heart song
Who recognise the beat and the
pulse of the earth
the vastness of the sky
Whose eyes remember why we're alive
When I miss these brothers
and sisters, and feel alone here
I remind myself again, it's me I'm missing
Away from their resonance, believing
I’m separate and alone
I’m humbly reminded that this noble heart
is simply calling herself to remember
a still deeper and wider belonging
So, beloved nature, lovers, tribe
you bring my world alive!
You show me my soul
And when I remember it's not you
who holds the key to joy
But that my own Being is Joy
and always here...
I am free to love you
with such a crazy love
Unbounded, free, passionate and wild
That you might
even, perhaps,
remember yourself,
in reflection,
too?
I long for nature
Soil underfoot, sand between toes
The smell of leaves
the stretch of branches
Arc of the sky
expanse of mountains
Power of oceans
You feed me, flush me
Fill me with my self
But when I miss you and
want to be held in your rugged arms
I remember it's me I'm missing
That I've allowed myself to become smaller
without your reflection
I remember this missing
as a call to come home,
to land in my own Being
Then sometimes I long for love
The depth of your eyes,
aliveness of your touch
The dance between us like mirrors
reflecting spirit in infinite ways
You show me my self
As I wake up and stand up
and delight in these wings,
in this power and grace
expressed in your presence
But when I miss you and
find you're not here
I remember, eventually, it's me I'm missing
That I'm allowing a part of myself to die
outside of your reflection
I remember first and foremost
I’m calling myself
to fall back in love with my own shining
At times I long for tribe
To be amongst kindred souls
who share my heart song
Who recognise the beat and the
pulse of the earth
the vastness of the sky
Whose eyes remember why we're alive
When I miss these brothers
and sisters, and feel alone here
I remind myself again, it's me I'm missing
Away from their resonance, believing
I’m separate and alone
I’m humbly reminded that this noble heart
is simply calling herself to remember
a still deeper and wider belonging
So, beloved nature, lovers, tribe
you bring my world alive!
You show me my soul
And when I remember it's not you
who holds the key to joy
But that my own Being is Joy
and always here...
I am free to love you
with such a crazy love
Unbounded, free, passionate and wild
That you might
even, perhaps,
remember yourself,
in reflection,
too?
The Alchemist
Whenever and wherever there is a perception of lack, enter that place and you will find gold.
When veils are removed from your eyes, and your heart and mind are clarified and clear, you see reality as it is. Quite simply. You perceive all things in their perfection, appreciating the exquisite way in which the universe brings itself back into balance again and again to know itself anew.
Seeing reality through the perspective of fear, you get lost in stories of “I, me and mine”. Believing you need something or someone to complete or define you. Imagining things to defend against or hold on to, protect from or capture, ignore or obsess over. An exhausting charade.
Ultimately, is the belief that you need some other to know your own light, and must resist some other to avoid your own shadow.
And so begins the dance. Which in its perfection, by bumping up against the suffering of your perspective again and again, points you towards the truth. That brightness shines regardless, and that shadows reveal the light.
So here's the invitation: to turn towards the fear perspective as teacher and friend. No longer pretending to be already enlightened, nor believing in its stories of lack and need.
When you hold fear with love, it points you towards your own gentleness, cultivating a trust that reveals authentic Unity.
Holding anxiety with tenderness grows your capacity for curiosity and embodied presence, cultivating an equanimity that reveals authentic Wisdom.
Anger held lovingly builds your capacity to recognise the vulnerability and pain behind it, cultivating an empathy that reveals authentic Compassion.
Grief embraced with love shows you the truest expression of courage, rooted in the earth and reaching to the sky, open hearted and free. Inviting you to experience authentic Strength.
Hostility and hatred when held with warmth, cultivate your capacity for forgiveness and kindness, revealing authentic Love.
The invitation is simple. Whenever and wherever there is a perception of lack, enter that place and you will find gold.
Whenever and wherever there is a perception of lack, enter that place and you will find gold.
When veils are removed from your eyes, and your heart and mind are clarified and clear, you see reality as it is. Quite simply. You perceive all things in their perfection, appreciating the exquisite way in which the universe brings itself back into balance again and again to know itself anew.
Seeing reality through the perspective of fear, you get lost in stories of “I, me and mine”. Believing you need something or someone to complete or define you. Imagining things to defend against or hold on to, protect from or capture, ignore or obsess over. An exhausting charade.
Ultimately, is the belief that you need some other to know your own light, and must resist some other to avoid your own shadow.
And so begins the dance. Which in its perfection, by bumping up against the suffering of your perspective again and again, points you towards the truth. That brightness shines regardless, and that shadows reveal the light.
So here's the invitation: to turn towards the fear perspective as teacher and friend. No longer pretending to be already enlightened, nor believing in its stories of lack and need.
When you hold fear with love, it points you towards your own gentleness, cultivating a trust that reveals authentic Unity.
Holding anxiety with tenderness grows your capacity for curiosity and embodied presence, cultivating an equanimity that reveals authentic Wisdom.
Anger held lovingly builds your capacity to recognise the vulnerability and pain behind it, cultivating an empathy that reveals authentic Compassion.
Grief embraced with love shows you the truest expression of courage, rooted in the earth and reaching to the sky, open hearted and free. Inviting you to experience authentic Strength.
Hostility and hatred when held with warmth, cultivate your capacity for forgiveness and kindness, revealing authentic Love.
The invitation is simple. Whenever and wherever there is a perception of lack, enter that place and you will find gold.
Surrender
How would it feel to surrender, right now?
To let go, truly, of the story of blame and shame. The confluence of opinions swarming around your head. The decisions and indecisions. Ideas of right and wrong, good and bad.
How would it feel to fall to the ground, or stand up tall with your heart open, and let this moment hit you like a blast of hot air?
In its complexity and contradiction. In the intimacy and mystery. To make love with this moment just because it’s here.
How would it feel to actually experience your experiences, and allow them to transform you?
Whether painful, ecstatic or close to imperceptible. Not because they hold the magic of transformation within them, but because the remembrance is in the surrender; the aliveness is in the meeting.
How would it feel to meet yourself so gracefully, that you allow others their grace, without asking them to fulfil you?
To hold your own fear of loss or abandonment, to nurse your own grief and tend to your anger. To fill these inner pastures with your own light, as you remember the strength, beauty and freedom that you are.
How would it be to look out at the world through these clear eyes?
To recognise yourself everywhere you look: the innocence of hearts finding their way back to love. The suffering of forgetting, the pain and rapture of remembering. The perfection of the play of our lives unfolding, directed by us before we were born.
What are you here to remember?
How would it feel to surrender, right now?
To let go, truly, of the story of blame and shame. The confluence of opinions swarming around your head. The decisions and indecisions. Ideas of right and wrong, good and bad.
How would it feel to fall to the ground, or stand up tall with your heart open, and let this moment hit you like a blast of hot air?
In its complexity and contradiction. In the intimacy and mystery. To make love with this moment just because it’s here.
How would it feel to actually experience your experiences, and allow them to transform you?
Whether painful, ecstatic or close to imperceptible. Not because they hold the magic of transformation within them, but because the remembrance is in the surrender; the aliveness is in the meeting.
How would it feel to meet yourself so gracefully, that you allow others their grace, without asking them to fulfil you?
To hold your own fear of loss or abandonment, to nurse your own grief and tend to your anger. To fill these inner pastures with your own light, as you remember the strength, beauty and freedom that you are.
How would it be to look out at the world through these clear eyes?
To recognise yourself everywhere you look: the innocence of hearts finding their way back to love. The suffering of forgetting, the pain and rapture of remembering. The perfection of the play of our lives unfolding, directed by us before we were born.
What are you here to remember?
Ocean
In the end and from the beginning, there is only love. The universe an ocean of love that reconfigures itself in infinite forms. We each arise out of this ocean as unique creative expressions of this same essence. Our uniqueness and inseparability coming together in divine balance, as we express love in infinite ways.
Yet it seems that most of us have lost contact with our wholeness, with the ocean, lost in a cultural obsession with uniqueness. We’ve become afraid of our vastness, and forgetting we are the ocean we build a ship that sails the surface and judge ourselves and others on how strong, beautiful and adept she is. We want to be recognised and loved by other ships, but however much validation we receive, can never be fulfilled. Being an expression of fear, any reinforcing of this ship-self in the end only serves to reinforce fear.
It's not a mistake. It's nobody's fault. It's the great return to wholeness.
Your fear is already resting in an ocean of love. Trying desperately to defend itself and maintain its identity, when all it needs to do is surrender. Sink back into the depths. Be held here in love even if it's not understood. Even if in the moment it feels like masochism, to sit here with fear as friend. Trusting that this is enough. Not because being present like this will fix or solve or change anything, but because loving presence is itself the very return to wholeness that we long for and search for.
Right here, right now.
Like this.
In the end and from the beginning, there is only love. The universe an ocean of love that reconfigures itself in infinite forms. We each arise out of this ocean as unique creative expressions of this same essence. Our uniqueness and inseparability coming together in divine balance, as we express love in infinite ways.
Yet it seems that most of us have lost contact with our wholeness, with the ocean, lost in a cultural obsession with uniqueness. We’ve become afraid of our vastness, and forgetting we are the ocean we build a ship that sails the surface and judge ourselves and others on how strong, beautiful and adept she is. We want to be recognised and loved by other ships, but however much validation we receive, can never be fulfilled. Being an expression of fear, any reinforcing of this ship-self in the end only serves to reinforce fear.
It's not a mistake. It's nobody's fault. It's the great return to wholeness.
Your fear is already resting in an ocean of love. Trying desperately to defend itself and maintain its identity, when all it needs to do is surrender. Sink back into the depths. Be held here in love even if it's not understood. Even if in the moment it feels like masochism, to sit here with fear as friend. Trusting that this is enough. Not because being present like this will fix or solve or change anything, but because loving presence is itself the very return to wholeness that we long for and search for.
Right here, right now.
Like this.
Wide Open
There are days when my heart blows so wide open that my mind begins to panic as everything she has built starts to shift and slide. So she gathers this experience of infinite expanse and pushes it behind watchful eyes. She’s clever, this mind, knowing she'll find something that proves at least one of us isn't worthy of a love like this!
My heart's gentle radiance now shining through bars, mind busies herself with fixing what was never hers to fix (your innocent limitations, my apparent shortcomings). Intending to make this world safe, predictable. Ready for love.
I know this is true because I've played the game of pausing for a moment when caught in judging and blame. And imagining, for fun, how it might be if this feeling in my heart were safe and celebrated and allowed to be. With no other change but that shift in perspective, my whole vision moves from narrow to wide. From black and white to technicolour, from fear to excitement and joy. From impossibility to infinite possibility.
I'm trying to remember, when I find myself judging, blaming and fixing, that I'm simply afraid of loving right now. And when my heart relaxes back into humour and ease, there's plenty of space there for fear to find refuge in her gentle embrace. There’s plenty of room for you to be you, me to be me, and life to be just what it is.
There are days when my heart blows so wide open that my mind begins to panic as everything she has built starts to shift and slide. So she gathers this experience of infinite expanse and pushes it behind watchful eyes. She’s clever, this mind, knowing she'll find something that proves at least one of us isn't worthy of a love like this!
My heart's gentle radiance now shining through bars, mind busies herself with fixing what was never hers to fix (your innocent limitations, my apparent shortcomings). Intending to make this world safe, predictable. Ready for love.
I know this is true because I've played the game of pausing for a moment when caught in judging and blame. And imagining, for fun, how it might be if this feeling in my heart were safe and celebrated and allowed to be. With no other change but that shift in perspective, my whole vision moves from narrow to wide. From black and white to technicolour, from fear to excitement and joy. From impossibility to infinite possibility.
I'm trying to remember, when I find myself judging, blaming and fixing, that I'm simply afraid of loving right now. And when my heart relaxes back into humour and ease, there's plenty of space there for fear to find refuge in her gentle embrace. There’s plenty of room for you to be you, me to be me, and life to be just what it is.
Free
It seems, my friend, that nothing is quite as it seems.
Our minds weave stories to make sense of what's here, based on lifetimes of conditioning. Tethered by fear, limited in perspective, looking for repeating patterns in a world of chaos.
She is innocent, this mind, doing her best. She never asked to play God. But long ago we turned away from our essence, our heart's deepest knowing, when we thought our survival depended on it. Leaving mind, so young, believing she's alone. With fear on her shoulder she became vigilant for a safety she could no longer see was already here.
So nothing is quite as it seems.
There's a liminal space that the ancients called faith. Where we drop the story of blame or shame, where we suspend interpretation and all ways to fix, retaliate, acquire or improve. And in this space of not knowing, we return to raw experience. Feel it directly, as if for the first time. Knowing nothing, holding everything. Turning towards these very feelings that we've believed will end our lives, to find ourselves come alive there.
Finally recognising anger for her passionate advocacy of spirit. Grief for her noble expression of love. Jealousy for her aspiration towards inner fulfilment. Fear with tenderness, gentleness, while she's held in love. Recognising love herself in her infinite embrace, in her playful dance, in the way she shows her face right now, like this.
Like this.
So nothing is quite as it seems.
And in this new reality where I no longer need you to fulfil me, you don't need me to keep you safe, it's not your fault that I hurt like this, I'm not to blame for your fear… Where does it leave us, you and I?
Free to love
Free to be
Free
It seems, my friend, that nothing is quite as it seems.
Our minds weave stories to make sense of what's here, based on lifetimes of conditioning. Tethered by fear, limited in perspective, looking for repeating patterns in a world of chaos.
She is innocent, this mind, doing her best. She never asked to play God. But long ago we turned away from our essence, our heart's deepest knowing, when we thought our survival depended on it. Leaving mind, so young, believing she's alone. With fear on her shoulder she became vigilant for a safety she could no longer see was already here.
So nothing is quite as it seems.
There's a liminal space that the ancients called faith. Where we drop the story of blame or shame, where we suspend interpretation and all ways to fix, retaliate, acquire or improve. And in this space of not knowing, we return to raw experience. Feel it directly, as if for the first time. Knowing nothing, holding everything. Turning towards these very feelings that we've believed will end our lives, to find ourselves come alive there.
Finally recognising anger for her passionate advocacy of spirit. Grief for her noble expression of love. Jealousy for her aspiration towards inner fulfilment. Fear with tenderness, gentleness, while she's held in love. Recognising love herself in her infinite embrace, in her playful dance, in the way she shows her face right now, like this.
Like this.
So nothing is quite as it seems.
And in this new reality where I no longer need you to fulfil me, you don't need me to keep you safe, it's not your fault that I hurt like this, I'm not to blame for your fear… Where does it leave us, you and I?
Free to love
Free to be
Free
# I TOO
Beloved earth, and the energies that hold and embrace me.
I offer into your lap the ways I have unknowingly hurt or disregarded others. The times I have been unwilling to take responsibility for their pain. Unwilling to step up as woman. When the child within has been convinced that her needs matter more.
I offer you now the shame that I have been running from, hiding from. To acknowledge before would have been to face my own pain: I was not ready then. To take true responsibility for others is to take true responsibility for myself. Asking the child to know she is woman, who stands strong, and stands alone. Together, alone.
I am grateful for your patience. I know your love is unconditional. I feel this unfolding is beyond blame. My heart is as deep as your oceans, yet I can only give more through facing the humility that shows where I withhold.
Beloved sky, and the energies of light that guide me.
Allow me to lean on you as I practice dropping the story of being someone special. As I feel the fear behind it of insignificance, annihilation. Allow me to breathe with you as I crack through the shards of unlovable, unworthy in my mind. Whose efforts to acquire love and prove worthiness can only ever reinforce their own validity. Laugh with me as they fall to the floor to explode in infinite spectrums of light. Shine with me as I remember that anything else is but a fragment of this truth.
Yours, mine, all: this radiance.
Between earth and sky, we walk, now.
Together, alone.
I too am responsible. This too is beyond blame.
Beloved earth, and the energies that hold and embrace me.
I offer into your lap the ways I have unknowingly hurt or disregarded others. The times I have been unwilling to take responsibility for their pain. Unwilling to step up as woman. When the child within has been convinced that her needs matter more.
I offer you now the shame that I have been running from, hiding from. To acknowledge before would have been to face my own pain: I was not ready then. To take true responsibility for others is to take true responsibility for myself. Asking the child to know she is woman, who stands strong, and stands alone. Together, alone.
I am grateful for your patience. I know your love is unconditional. I feel this unfolding is beyond blame. My heart is as deep as your oceans, yet I can only give more through facing the humility that shows where I withhold.
Beloved sky, and the energies of light that guide me.
Allow me to lean on you as I practice dropping the story of being someone special. As I feel the fear behind it of insignificance, annihilation. Allow me to breathe with you as I crack through the shards of unlovable, unworthy in my mind. Whose efforts to acquire love and prove worthiness can only ever reinforce their own validity. Laugh with me as they fall to the floor to explode in infinite spectrums of light. Shine with me as I remember that anything else is but a fragment of this truth.
Yours, mine, all: this radiance.
Between earth and sky, we walk, now.
Together, alone.
I too am responsible. This too is beyond blame.
Peru
Deep gratitude to Pachamama.
For her unconditional love,
and for showing me where my love is still conditional.
For her abundance,
and for showing me where I still believe in scarcity.
For pointing me towards the possibility of living with love and grace
in this body, on this Earth, in this time.
Deep gratitude to Apu Ausangate.
For holding me in a way I have never known,
and for showing me where I have turned to others to be held.
For reminding me who my true fathers are,
revealing where I have looked for safety in others instead.
For showing me my own light,
and for shining a light on my path.
Deep gratitude to the Pacos,
wisdomkeepers of the Andes.
For their sincerity and lightness,
their devotion and care.
For revealing humility to be the deepest expression of strength,
and playfulness the most natural flavour of love.
Deep gratitude to my brothers and sisters,
as we walk side by side
from darkness into light.
Thank you for reminding me
that we are none of us special
and all of us extraordinary.
Deep gratitude to Pachamama.
For her unconditional love,
and for showing me where my love is still conditional.
For her abundance,
and for showing me where I still believe in scarcity.
For pointing me towards the possibility of living with love and grace
in this body, on this Earth, in this time.
Deep gratitude to Apu Ausangate.
For holding me in a way I have never known,
and for showing me where I have turned to others to be held.
For reminding me who my true fathers are,
revealing where I have looked for safety in others instead.
For showing me my own light,
and for shining a light on my path.
Deep gratitude to the Pacos,
wisdomkeepers of the Andes.
For their sincerity and lightness,
their devotion and care.
For revealing humility to be the deepest expression of strength,
and playfulness the most natural flavour of love.
Deep gratitude to my brothers and sisters,
as we walk side by side
from darkness into light.
Thank you for reminding me
that we are none of us special
and all of us extraordinary.
Roar
Sisters, how often do we give away our power?
When we bask in the reflected glow of another, content to support and enable, do we forget how brightly our own light shines?
When we look for validation, approval and justification, do we remember how succinctly our own inner compass guides?
When we follow, obey, fulfil another's needs, can we still feel how deeply we matter?
Sisters, how often do we give away our freedom?
We were burned for our wisdom, mutilated for our power, condemned for our beauty.
But we were never victims.
Had we once forgotten to honour the masculine in ourselves and others?
Have we allowed this loss of respect to turn inwards, to believe it’s who we are?
Can we once again expand into the strength of vulnerability; recognise the profound sacredness of diversity?
Sisters, how often do we give away our sexuality?
Become dolls and birds and babes?
Exist as cartoon ideas for immature minds who equally long to be free?
Can we hear the roar of our wildness?
Remember this heat, heart, breath, pulse, power and presence?
Can we taste how shamelessly alive and untamed we can be?
Sisters, this is our time.
The world needs us, now.
And we need nothing and no one
for permission to be radiant and real.
Sisters, how often do we give away our power?
When we bask in the reflected glow of another, content to support and enable, do we forget how brightly our own light shines?
When we look for validation, approval and justification, do we remember how succinctly our own inner compass guides?
When we follow, obey, fulfil another's needs, can we still feel how deeply we matter?
Sisters, how often do we give away our freedom?
We were burned for our wisdom, mutilated for our power, condemned for our beauty.
But we were never victims.
Had we once forgotten to honour the masculine in ourselves and others?
Have we allowed this loss of respect to turn inwards, to believe it’s who we are?
Can we once again expand into the strength of vulnerability; recognise the profound sacredness of diversity?
Sisters, how often do we give away our sexuality?
Become dolls and birds and babes?
Exist as cartoon ideas for immature minds who equally long to be free?
Can we hear the roar of our wildness?
Remember this heat, heart, breath, pulse, power and presence?
Can we taste how shamelessly alive and untamed we can be?
Sisters, this is our time.
The world needs us, now.
And we need nothing and no one
for permission to be radiant and real.
Peeling Away the Layers
I meet first the ways I move outwards:
all the wanting, needing, expecting
resisting, avoiding, denying
escaping, defining, convincing.
Tirelessly shielding
the layers beneath:
feelings of lack and loss
of empty space, endless void.
Fears of not being enough,
beliefs of needing you and this
to be strong, fulfilled,
lovable, complete.
It might seem like a fear of smallness,
that I want your love to disguise.
But in truth it’s a fear of greatness:
that I might be so complete, just like this.
Could I really walk the Earth
with this courage and love,
independence and grace?
Could I be that free and whole?
I’m turning inwards, these days,
when I catch the pull outwards.
Meeting the fear, entering the void,
with a heart full of presence.
And finding such love there!
Where I thought there was darkness:
such unexpected light!
In a place of death, such space!
Can you imagine a world
where we walk together
with the strength and knowing
of this vastness of being?
As the truest expressions of love?
I meet first the ways I move outwards:
all the wanting, needing, expecting
resisting, avoiding, denying
escaping, defining, convincing.
Tirelessly shielding
the layers beneath:
feelings of lack and loss
of empty space, endless void.
Fears of not being enough,
beliefs of needing you and this
to be strong, fulfilled,
lovable, complete.
It might seem like a fear of smallness,
that I want your love to disguise.
But in truth it’s a fear of greatness:
that I might be so complete, just like this.
Could I really walk the Earth
with this courage and love,
independence and grace?
Could I be that free and whole?
I’m turning inwards, these days,
when I catch the pull outwards.
Meeting the fear, entering the void,
with a heart full of presence.
And finding such love there!
Where I thought there was darkness:
such unexpected light!
In a place of death, such space!
Can you imagine a world
where we walk together
with the strength and knowing
of this vastness of being?
As the truest expressions of love?
Truth, Fear and Love
It seems to me that what hurts most, is denying love and truth. When we begin to see how we've hidden from truth from a fear of loss, fear moves in to challenge the love instead. But all truth is asking of us is to speak up, always, in strength and self respect. To share our truth, always, without fear.
In the end, all we're left with are these three things: truth, the fear that arises in its wake as everything else falls away, and a naked love that is willing to not know how she might look, yet is free to find that out.
It seems to me that what hurts most, is denying love and truth. When we begin to see how we've hidden from truth from a fear of loss, fear moves in to challenge the love instead. But all truth is asking of us is to speak up, always, in strength and self respect. To share our truth, always, without fear.
In the end, all we're left with are these three things: truth, the fear that arises in its wake as everything else falls away, and a naked love that is willing to not know how she might look, yet is free to find that out.
Grief, Fear and Wonder
The path of transformation feels to me to be one of continual revelation, death and rebirth, bordered by a liminal space of not knowing. It is echoed in the rise and fall of each in and out breath, and the fullness and emptiness of the pauses in between.
When we allow things to die, and witness something new being born from the unknown, we inevitably meet grief and fear. These feelings are not wrong: they are the natural expressions of letting go and change. By denying grief and fear we might become numb to truths of death and uncertainty, but at the expense of aliveness and growth. We become like a seed, so filled with promise, yet lost in obsessions about safety, longevity, and certainty of stature.
A seed, unless it falls to the ground and dies, will never know its potential as a tree.
What to a caterpillar is the end of the world, to the world is a butterfly.
Nothing new can emerge when we hold tight to our ideas of how things are, were or might be. Believing we’ll drown in the grief of loss and the fear of uncertainty, we sacrifice the wonder of the tree, the freedom of the butterfly, and the unimaginable grace of this human potential.
Can we together, you and I, bow to grief as we let go of what we once thought we needed? Celebrate fear as the emissary of something new unfolding? And witness the birth of a love that always knew there was never anything to hold on to in the first place?
The path of transformation feels to me to be one of continual revelation, death and rebirth, bordered by a liminal space of not knowing. It is echoed in the rise and fall of each in and out breath, and the fullness and emptiness of the pauses in between.
When we allow things to die, and witness something new being born from the unknown, we inevitably meet grief and fear. These feelings are not wrong: they are the natural expressions of letting go and change. By denying grief and fear we might become numb to truths of death and uncertainty, but at the expense of aliveness and growth. We become like a seed, so filled with promise, yet lost in obsessions about safety, longevity, and certainty of stature.
A seed, unless it falls to the ground and dies, will never know its potential as a tree.
What to a caterpillar is the end of the world, to the world is a butterfly.
Nothing new can emerge when we hold tight to our ideas of how things are, were or might be. Believing we’ll drown in the grief of loss and the fear of uncertainty, we sacrifice the wonder of the tree, the freedom of the butterfly, and the unimaginable grace of this human potential.
Can we together, you and I, bow to grief as we let go of what we once thought we needed? Celebrate fear as the emissary of something new unfolding? And witness the birth of a love that always knew there was never anything to hold on to in the first place?
Perception and Projection
Imagine yourself seated in front of a large window, gazing into the eyes of someone you love on the other side.
As you gaze, imagine the glass becoming tinted by colour: the lens of cultural conditioning you see through. Ideas of right and wrong, good and bad, projections of meaning, worth and expectation.
Imagine now, some paint smeared on the glass: your own wants and needs, fears and hopes, ideas of betrayal and salvation.
More paint now splattered across in various colours: the imprints in body, heart and mind of mother, father, significant lovers...
Perhaps sticky gunk here and there from other places within still unresolved.
And witness your beloved, gazing back at you, as their own side of the window rapidly fills with colour and gunk.
What do we really see when we look at another?
How often is loving them no more than loving our own paint? Imagining they feel what we want them to feel; believing that what we feel is all about them?
How often are ruptures the clash of one story not fulfilling the other? The disappointment of human mystery not conforming to paint? The heart-breaking realisation that we’ve been touching through glass?
To truly see the brilliance of another soul, we need to bow first to the window between us. We are called to tend, lovingly to the tinted glass, paint and sticky gunk, until even the window is no longer seen as “other”.
Until the imperfect way we perceive the perfection of each other becomes another perfect expression of this mystery called life.
Imagine yourself seated in front of a large window, gazing into the eyes of someone you love on the other side.
As you gaze, imagine the glass becoming tinted by colour: the lens of cultural conditioning you see through. Ideas of right and wrong, good and bad, projections of meaning, worth and expectation.
Imagine now, some paint smeared on the glass: your own wants and needs, fears and hopes, ideas of betrayal and salvation.
More paint now splattered across in various colours: the imprints in body, heart and mind of mother, father, significant lovers...
Perhaps sticky gunk here and there from other places within still unresolved.
And witness your beloved, gazing back at you, as their own side of the window rapidly fills with colour and gunk.
What do we really see when we look at another?
How often is loving them no more than loving our own paint? Imagining they feel what we want them to feel; believing that what we feel is all about them?
How often are ruptures the clash of one story not fulfilling the other? The disappointment of human mystery not conforming to paint? The heart-breaking realisation that we’ve been touching through glass?
To truly see the brilliance of another soul, we need to bow first to the window between us. We are called to tend, lovingly to the tinted glass, paint and sticky gunk, until even the window is no longer seen as “other”.
Until the imperfect way we perceive the perfection of each other becomes another perfect expression of this mystery called life.
This Was Just Another Day
This was just another day.
The duckling busy drinking in life
swimming by my side.
My hands parting pollen
on folds of mirrored water.
This was just another day.
My bike dismantled on the road.
Two men sprinting away
from parts no longer promising
exchange for a score.
This was just another day.
The kindness of strangers picking up pieces.
The man in the bike shop
fixing for free. Eyes sparkling
“I love what I do”.
This was just another day.
With an old friend, so broken
lost deep within and far away
inside his own sadness.
Laughing together, lives interwoven.
This was just another day.
In my children’s arms
soft bodies, huge dreams.
Unanswerable questions from
journeys that can only be theirs.
This was just another day.
For a heart broken open
so many times it
can no longer remember
how it felt to be closed.
This was just another day.
The duckling busy drinking in life
swimming by my side.
My hands parting pollen
on folds of mirrored water.
This was just another day.
My bike dismantled on the road.
Two men sprinting away
from parts no longer promising
exchange for a score.
This was just another day.
The kindness of strangers picking up pieces.
The man in the bike shop
fixing for free. Eyes sparkling
“I love what I do”.
This was just another day.
With an old friend, so broken
lost deep within and far away
inside his own sadness.
Laughing together, lives interwoven.
This was just another day.
In my children’s arms
soft bodies, huge dreams.
Unanswerable questions from
journeys that can only be theirs.
This was just another day.
For a heart broken open
so many times it
can no longer remember
how it felt to be closed.
Know with your Heart, Love with your Life
When knowing is located in head
and loving is located in heart
life becomes vulnerable
to mind’s limitations and heart’s desires
When we know with our hearts
we can love with our lives:
leaving mind a noble place
of awe and service
What would it mean, to know with your heart?
Where unknowns rest easily in a vastness
so safe that all life is touched:
recognised, returned
What would it mean, to love with your life?
Each moment an offering
a gift: the revelation again of
sculpting love through form
When knowing is located in head
and loving is located in heart
life becomes vulnerable
to mind’s limitations and heart’s desires
When we know with our hearts
we can love with our lives:
leaving mind a noble place
of awe and service
What would it mean, to know with your heart?
Where unknowns rest easily in a vastness
so safe that all life is touched:
recognised, returned
What would it mean, to love with your life?
Each moment an offering
a gift: the revelation again of
sculpting love through form
Root to Rise
Like trees, the deeper our roots, the wider our branches.
Each place of contact, body to ground.
Tendrils reach down, Earth energy rises.
Flowing to a sacred reservoir in the belly.
Our inner Earth centre, ground of being.
Rooted to Earth, connected to Self, attention widens.
A sun rising from the safety of the sea.
This moment held, belonging to source.
This heart’s vulnerabilities held within love.
This mind’s confusions known within stillness.
This tree belonging because it exists.
Flexible, resilient. So very alive.
Like trees, the deeper our roots, the wider our branches.
Each place of contact, body to ground.
Tendrils reach down, Earth energy rises.
Flowing to a sacred reservoir in the belly.
Our inner Earth centre, ground of being.
Rooted to Earth, connected to Self, attention widens.
A sun rising from the safety of the sea.
This moment held, belonging to source.
This heart’s vulnerabilities held within love.
This mind’s confusions known within stillness.
This tree belonging because it exists.
Flexible, resilient. So very alive.
Appreciation
How to describe appreciation like this?
Golden, like this sunlight
thick in summery air
sparkling around me.
Eyes innocent,
heart pierced, naked.
How to describe wonder like this?
Silence inside
meeting space outside.
Not knowing
meeting known.
A great mystery perceived.
How to describe gratitude like this?
For a holding beyond hands
a knowing beyond knowledge
a safety beyond boundaries.
For this being true,
here and now.
How to describe appreciation like this?
Golden, like this sunlight
thick in summery air
sparkling around me.
Eyes innocent,
heart pierced, naked.
How to describe wonder like this?
Silence inside
meeting space outside.
Not knowing
meeting known.
A great mystery perceived.
How to describe gratitude like this?
For a holding beyond hands
a knowing beyond knowledge
a safety beyond boundaries.
For this being true,
here and now.
Sacred Disappointment
I find myself, once again, bowing at the feet of disappointment.
This humble messenger so often refused,
whose voice I’ve been quick to smother:
fixing this moment, improving myself,
demanding you become who I need you to be.
And the world so compliant,
this heart so willing, others often so kind,
I might not have noticed:
the only certainty of placating disappointment
is her inevitable return.
I know this habit, it served me well.
While this young and tender heart
still believed she might drown.
Before she understood:
love needs no other to shine.
Disappointment whispers:
I'm the sister of longing,
the daughter of hope.
I highlight the space between wanting and life,
illuminate lack until it’s seen as a dream.
When no longer rushing to fill this space,
sweet longing herself is finally met.
Finally held, finally seen, the family dances complete.
And disappointment quietens, softens and smiles:
her message finally received.
I find myself, once again, bowing at the feet of disappointment.
This humble messenger so often refused,
whose voice I’ve been quick to smother:
fixing this moment, improving myself,
demanding you become who I need you to be.
And the world so compliant,
this heart so willing, others often so kind,
I might not have noticed:
the only certainty of placating disappointment
is her inevitable return.
I know this habit, it served me well.
While this young and tender heart
still believed she might drown.
Before she understood:
love needs no other to shine.
Disappointment whispers:
I'm the sister of longing,
the daughter of hope.
I highlight the space between wanting and life,
illuminate lack until it’s seen as a dream.
When no longer rushing to fill this space,
sweet longing herself is finally met.
Finally held, finally seen, the family dances complete.
And disappointment quietens, softens and smiles:
her message finally received.
Return
I watch my mind straining to move outwards again and again. To you, to this, to that. To fulfilment of an inner longing so old it easily disguises itself as myself, directing from the shadows.
I come back to this breath, to the rise and fall of my belly, and find an ache in my heart, a grip in my throat, a sting in my eyes. Finding here the seat of longing itself: for love, belonging, fulfilment. For merging, oneness, wholeness. Many voices but only one song: the longing to return.
So I rest there, quiet, until “I” disappear, leaving the ache, grip and sting in the arms of awareness. In whose infinite embrace they are finally loved. Whose unconditional lap offers true belonging. Whose endorsement of being reveals deep fulfilment of presence, dissolving all becoming.
The longing to return, for this moment, returned.
I watch my mind straining to move outwards again and again. To you, to this, to that. To fulfilment of an inner longing so old it easily disguises itself as myself, directing from the shadows.
I come back to this breath, to the rise and fall of my belly, and find an ache in my heart, a grip in my throat, a sting in my eyes. Finding here the seat of longing itself: for love, belonging, fulfilment. For merging, oneness, wholeness. Many voices but only one song: the longing to return.
So I rest there, quiet, until “I” disappear, leaving the ache, grip and sting in the arms of awareness. In whose infinite embrace they are finally loved. Whose unconditional lap offers true belonging. Whose endorsement of being reveals deep fulfilment of presence, dissolving all becoming.
The longing to return, for this moment, returned.
Letting The Light Flood Back In
And so, there's something I want to say that words can't describe.
About being held in a vastness so safe, as if wrapped in a harmonic of which I'm a note.
About remembering a belonging that was never elsewhere.
I want to speak about losing myself to find myself.
About forgetting so I can remember.
And in this wordless, timeless, spaceless return
Knowing, that which once simply was.
Being, this which always simply is.
Letting the light flood back in.
And so, there's something I want to say that words can't describe.
About being held in a vastness so safe, as if wrapped in a harmonic of which I'm a note.
About remembering a belonging that was never elsewhere.
I want to speak about losing myself to find myself.
About forgetting so I can remember.
And in this wordless, timeless, spaceless return
Knowing, that which once simply was.
Being, this which always simply is.
Letting the light flood back in.
Somewhere In Between
Somewhere in between denying others access to my heart
and craving their attention in just the way I want
is a raw feeling of abandonment.
A sense of being dropped into this world and not being caught.
So uncomfortable, painful to feel
at times I have continued to seek relief in denial or fulfilment
rather than hold it steady in the love it deserves.
Somewhere in between shame and blame
is a raw heat of anger.
A reminder that some part of my integrity has been violated
rising as a force of truth, a passion of love.
So powerful in its essence
at times I have been willing to condemn myself or others
rather than rise within this creative fire.
Somewhere in between guilt and overwhelm
is a raw river of grief.
Love flowing freely without recipient or reply.
So strong the current, so deep the water
at times I have turned away numb, or believed I were drowning
rather than recognise these tears
as the song of a heart broken open to love.
Somewhere in between shutting down feeling and closing life’s doors
is a raw scream of fear.
The unshakeable knowing of an unknowable next moment
the dawning truth that each step is into a void.
At times, my mind has scrambled to define, fix, figure things out
rather than experience the electrical explosion
of uncertainty and change.
Somewhere in between
this mind’s denying and fixing
is the raw heartbeat of life.
A river of both nectar and blood
living herself out
in passion and wonder
real and undefined.
Somewhere in between denying others access to my heart
and craving their attention in just the way I want
is a raw feeling of abandonment.
A sense of being dropped into this world and not being caught.
So uncomfortable, painful to feel
at times I have continued to seek relief in denial or fulfilment
rather than hold it steady in the love it deserves.
Somewhere in between shame and blame
is a raw heat of anger.
A reminder that some part of my integrity has been violated
rising as a force of truth, a passion of love.
So powerful in its essence
at times I have been willing to condemn myself or others
rather than rise within this creative fire.
Somewhere in between guilt and overwhelm
is a raw river of grief.
Love flowing freely without recipient or reply.
So strong the current, so deep the water
at times I have turned away numb, or believed I were drowning
rather than recognise these tears
as the song of a heart broken open to love.
Somewhere in between shutting down feeling and closing life’s doors
is a raw scream of fear.
The unshakeable knowing of an unknowable next moment
the dawning truth that each step is into a void.
At times, my mind has scrambled to define, fix, figure things out
rather than experience the electrical explosion
of uncertainty and change.
Somewhere in between
this mind’s denying and fixing
is the raw heartbeat of life.
A river of both nectar and blood
living herself out
in passion and wonder
real and undefined.
Sacred, Fragile Strength
All things are fragile. All things are holy.
How do we look upon our fragility? The fragility of others? This Earth?
It’s what comes before our actions that makes the difference.
Do we remember that fragility is holy?
Asking only to be loved and deeply respected.
When we see a scar or wound, whether in the bark of a tree or a loved one’s heart, can we remember the scar has served a great purpose? The forest fire may have been necessary for new seeds to open; the wounded heart for an awakening journey to begin.
The scar is not the tree, nor the essence of the person.
When we feel into our lives, the parts that are broken and hurting, can we first pause to remember our wholeness? Each one of us a majestic being, whose fragility is calling us to listen with respect and love, to respond from a wisdom that holds all wounds.
Knowing all things are fragile and all things are holy, we walk this Earth with humility and gratitude for her fragile strength and miraculous breathing body inseparable from our own.
All things are fragile. All things are holy.
How do we look upon our fragility? The fragility of others? This Earth?
It’s what comes before our actions that makes the difference.
Do we remember that fragility is holy?
Asking only to be loved and deeply respected.
When we see a scar or wound, whether in the bark of a tree or a loved one’s heart, can we remember the scar has served a great purpose? The forest fire may have been necessary for new seeds to open; the wounded heart for an awakening journey to begin.
The scar is not the tree, nor the essence of the person.
When we feel into our lives, the parts that are broken and hurting, can we first pause to remember our wholeness? Each one of us a majestic being, whose fragility is calling us to listen with respect and love, to respond from a wisdom that holds all wounds.
Knowing all things are fragile and all things are holy, we walk this Earth with humility and gratitude for her fragile strength and miraculous breathing body inseparable from our own.
Everything You Have Been Seeking
When you long for love in your life
meet the unloved parts inside with love.
The knot of anger, shrinking feeling of insignificance
finally held in a tender embrace.
When you long for freedom in life
freely meet the contractions inside.
Fear, resistance, blame and shame
free to come and go in spaciousness.
When you long for clarity and light
meet the density here with presence.
Even confusion, doubt and uncertainty
can be infused with luminous knowing.
Love and wonder aren’t only found
within loveable and wondrous things.
But in the loving and wondering
of all that is true and here.
Whatever it is that you long for
offer it now to your life.
And you will find yourself to be
everything you have been seeking.
When you long for love in your life
meet the unloved parts inside with love.
The knot of anger, shrinking feeling of insignificance
finally held in a tender embrace.
When you long for freedom in life
freely meet the contractions inside.
Fear, resistance, blame and shame
free to come and go in spaciousness.
When you long for clarity and light
meet the density here with presence.
Even confusion, doubt and uncertainty
can be infused with luminous knowing.
Love and wonder aren’t only found
within loveable and wondrous things.
But in the loving and wondering
of all that is true and here.
Whatever it is that you long for
offer it now to your life.
And you will find yourself to be
everything you have been seeking.
A Wave in the Ocean
One of the precious gifts offered by this life of form is that everything dies. I see this every time I think I have found the answer in something out there, and then it shifts, changes and dies. It’s a simple truth: form changes, and life flows. Like the tides, like waves expressing the currents beneath. Each time I look outward to form (to you…) for my salvation or fulfillment, life smiles as she shifts the sands, and shows up the cracks. Sometimes I respond by bringing in reinforcements: denying or ignoring the cracks, or insisting they disappear to conform to my needs. Unknowingly reinforcing a wall between us, as I prepare myself for inevitable disappointment.
I am learning, again and again over time, that to truly feel our connectedness, I must also feel my aloneness. This means putting aside the lens through which I've been seeing you, which distorts your image to fit my idea of what I think I want or need from you. Putting down ideas of how you can give me what I imagine I don't have. How you can hold me, support me, strengthen me, guide me… most of all know me and love me, in the way I long to be known and loved.
Putting aside the lens means seeing you as you are, finally. Seeing my longing as it is, in its simplicity, finally. So that both can be known and loved, in their perfect imperfection. And then our utterly inseparable nature emerges like a flower blossoming from apparent aloneness.
We are like waves, you and I: arising from the ocean, returning to the ocean, made of the very same water, and yet here for now, with eyes, ears and a heart that mysteriously see, hear and feel like this. Self-responsibility is this wave that I am, unique in her perspective and form, taking deep care of her course, knowing that to move with or against the current affects the whole. I used to think responsibility was a buttoning up against the shortcomings of life, holding back to do what is deemed correct by social norm, but I’m seeing now that it is rather a surrender into the mystery that is unity. It is in fact a deep recognition of my own strength and power. A recognition of the love that is the very fabric of the ocean, that already hosts and holds whatever hurts most deeply.
So, I’m liberated by the truth that self-responsibility and self-care are in fact one. There’s nothing here that can’t be met, and that isn’t already loved. You are released from being responsible for my care or fulfilment, which means I am free to receive your care fully, and taste the fulfilment of authentic love as it dances between us. In the end, it is the very surrendering of projected wanting, the owning of needing, that allows the intimacy, love and respect that I long for. I see you; I see me. This courageous stepping into aloneness shows me where I was never separate, a unique and beautiful wave in a vast and mysterious ocean. And as such ever more responsible to express the whole ocean within this one small wave.
Thank you, for being imperfect, and showing me myself.
One of the precious gifts offered by this life of form is that everything dies. I see this every time I think I have found the answer in something out there, and then it shifts, changes and dies. It’s a simple truth: form changes, and life flows. Like the tides, like waves expressing the currents beneath. Each time I look outward to form (to you…) for my salvation or fulfillment, life smiles as she shifts the sands, and shows up the cracks. Sometimes I respond by bringing in reinforcements: denying or ignoring the cracks, or insisting they disappear to conform to my needs. Unknowingly reinforcing a wall between us, as I prepare myself for inevitable disappointment.
I am learning, again and again over time, that to truly feel our connectedness, I must also feel my aloneness. This means putting aside the lens through which I've been seeing you, which distorts your image to fit my idea of what I think I want or need from you. Putting down ideas of how you can give me what I imagine I don't have. How you can hold me, support me, strengthen me, guide me… most of all know me and love me, in the way I long to be known and loved.
Putting aside the lens means seeing you as you are, finally. Seeing my longing as it is, in its simplicity, finally. So that both can be known and loved, in their perfect imperfection. And then our utterly inseparable nature emerges like a flower blossoming from apparent aloneness.
We are like waves, you and I: arising from the ocean, returning to the ocean, made of the very same water, and yet here for now, with eyes, ears and a heart that mysteriously see, hear and feel like this. Self-responsibility is this wave that I am, unique in her perspective and form, taking deep care of her course, knowing that to move with or against the current affects the whole. I used to think responsibility was a buttoning up against the shortcomings of life, holding back to do what is deemed correct by social norm, but I’m seeing now that it is rather a surrender into the mystery that is unity. It is in fact a deep recognition of my own strength and power. A recognition of the love that is the very fabric of the ocean, that already hosts and holds whatever hurts most deeply.
So, I’m liberated by the truth that self-responsibility and self-care are in fact one. There’s nothing here that can’t be met, and that isn’t already loved. You are released from being responsible for my care or fulfilment, which means I am free to receive your care fully, and taste the fulfilment of authentic love as it dances between us. In the end, it is the very surrendering of projected wanting, the owning of needing, that allows the intimacy, love and respect that I long for. I see you; I see me. This courageous stepping into aloneness shows me where I was never separate, a unique and beautiful wave in a vast and mysterious ocean. And as such ever more responsible to express the whole ocean within this one small wave.
Thank you, for being imperfect, and showing me myself.
Integrity
Standing alone in the woods this morning, a deep blanket of snow presenting a world of whites and blues, I was approached by nature. A deer quietly observed me, a black squirrel darted past, a woodpecker above holding the drum beat for cascades of birdsong.
Four days ago, my nine year old son broke his shin badly, his leg an accidental bumper to the front of my sledge when it hit a wall at high speed. In that moment, the parts of me so caught in myself stood naked before me. The plans I had, the holiday I wanted, the stories of me and mine and getting what I want.
These last few days something has been dying in me. The tantrum of Me, this supreme individual ego so elevated in my Western mind, has been humbled, bowing at the feet of my family. The call to let go of another layer of self still hurts, as I scramble to hold on. But I know in truth it's only the death of an idea, a surrender into something larger.
Like this morning, in the forest, the miracle of the moment thick in the air, and the realisation that all aliveness is already here and complete.
The awakening journey can only be a collective one. The moment I lose myself in a dream of Me I am already harming myself by believing I am separate. From the deer, squirrel, woodpecker; from you, whoever you are. The bodhisattva aspiration to bring some benefit to each moment isn't another call to be “good”. It's a way to stay aligned with a universe that is already whole, complete and divine. It's a way we remember that our interconnection is also our refuge: the deepest homecoming we can know. I have seen again and again that when I stay close to this integrity, life flows. When I don't, life teaches.
Hidden amongst the heartache, I'm realising that to die to my ideas of self is to wake up to who I really am. Which includes accepting that I am fully responsible for my aspirations, intentions and actions, whether embodied or abandoned.
This is our path: the extraordinary responsibility of expressing this mystery called free will in ways that support the whole. Simply because the whole is all that there is.
Standing alone in the woods this morning, a deep blanket of snow presenting a world of whites and blues, I was approached by nature. A deer quietly observed me, a black squirrel darted past, a woodpecker above holding the drum beat for cascades of birdsong.
Four days ago, my nine year old son broke his shin badly, his leg an accidental bumper to the front of my sledge when it hit a wall at high speed. In that moment, the parts of me so caught in myself stood naked before me. The plans I had, the holiday I wanted, the stories of me and mine and getting what I want.
These last few days something has been dying in me. The tantrum of Me, this supreme individual ego so elevated in my Western mind, has been humbled, bowing at the feet of my family. The call to let go of another layer of self still hurts, as I scramble to hold on. But I know in truth it's only the death of an idea, a surrender into something larger.
Like this morning, in the forest, the miracle of the moment thick in the air, and the realisation that all aliveness is already here and complete.
The awakening journey can only be a collective one. The moment I lose myself in a dream of Me I am already harming myself by believing I am separate. From the deer, squirrel, woodpecker; from you, whoever you are. The bodhisattva aspiration to bring some benefit to each moment isn't another call to be “good”. It's a way to stay aligned with a universe that is already whole, complete and divine. It's a way we remember that our interconnection is also our refuge: the deepest homecoming we can know. I have seen again and again that when I stay close to this integrity, life flows. When I don't, life teaches.
Hidden amongst the heartache, I'm realising that to die to my ideas of self is to wake up to who I really am. Which includes accepting that I am fully responsible for my aspirations, intentions and actions, whether embodied or abandoned.
This is our path: the extraordinary responsibility of expressing this mystery called free will in ways that support the whole. Simply because the whole is all that there is.
Being Love
I am realising that the permission to offer love doesn't have to be given from the outside. I see how old stories of feeling unloved myself have held me captive in withholding or demanding love as if it were something that could be bartered.
When merged with these feelings (of being unloved/unseen/unworthy), I unknowingly look for reality to validate what I feel. Your actions can never convince me that I’m lovable, when the unlovable one within is searching for a reason for her existence. When she is looking for something to point to in blame or hide from in shame, and pin hopes of salvation upon. Instead anything you do can only reinforce my dependency for as long as I remain identified with this part of myself. Like any other addiction, your attention will only fuel longing, when an imagined lack within is momentarily satiated. And your absence will only fuel the pain of loss and abandonment that I have already decided is true.
I am slowly discovering that the only real loss is in a forgetting of my true nature. When you or I were young and our radiant selves weren't mirrored back to us, we began to assume that we ourselves were lacking. We searched for validation and fulfilment from others when in fact we were, and are, only longing to once again be the love that we are. Our deepest longing is for permission to love wildly, radically and freely. Without fear of consequence or return. To be love, which we confuse for the desire to be loved.
I see how much I have struggled over the years with ideas of right or wrong in love, worthy or unworthy, give or take, to love or be loved. When all along what my heart has yearned for is a return to being love above being loved.
So I give myself permission today to love you regardless of what you do or don't do with my love. And to love the unloved parts within myself with the same recklessness and heed. In honour of the mysterious aliveness that we both are, which sparkles in you, in me and between us, like this.
I am realising that the permission to offer love doesn't have to be given from the outside. I see how old stories of feeling unloved myself have held me captive in withholding or demanding love as if it were something that could be bartered.
When merged with these feelings (of being unloved/unseen/unworthy), I unknowingly look for reality to validate what I feel. Your actions can never convince me that I’m lovable, when the unlovable one within is searching for a reason for her existence. When she is looking for something to point to in blame or hide from in shame, and pin hopes of salvation upon. Instead anything you do can only reinforce my dependency for as long as I remain identified with this part of myself. Like any other addiction, your attention will only fuel longing, when an imagined lack within is momentarily satiated. And your absence will only fuel the pain of loss and abandonment that I have already decided is true.
I am slowly discovering that the only real loss is in a forgetting of my true nature. When you or I were young and our radiant selves weren't mirrored back to us, we began to assume that we ourselves were lacking. We searched for validation and fulfilment from others when in fact we were, and are, only longing to once again be the love that we are. Our deepest longing is for permission to love wildly, radically and freely. Without fear of consequence or return. To be love, which we confuse for the desire to be loved.
I see how much I have struggled over the years with ideas of right or wrong in love, worthy or unworthy, give or take, to love or be loved. When all along what my heart has yearned for is a return to being love above being loved.
So I give myself permission today to love you regardless of what you do or don't do with my love. And to love the unloved parts within myself with the same recklessness and heed. In honour of the mysterious aliveness that we both are, which sparkles in you, in me and between us, like this.
The Four Noble Truths: an invitation to Love
When I run after what I think I want, my days are a furnace of stress and anxiety; if I sit in my own place of patience, what I need flows to me, and without pain. From this I understand that what I want also wants me, is looking for me and attracting me. There is a great secret here for anyone who can grasp it.
~ Rumi
At their essence, the Buddha’s iconic four noble truths are a profound invitation to love, echoing the heart of teachings from prophets and mystics across all traditions.
The first noble truth, dukkha parinna asks that “suffering is to be comprehended”: an invitation to turn deeply towards our direct experience of suffering in this moment in order to know its nature. We see that on the one hand, pain in life is inevitable. It is certain that we will experience the physical pain of illness and ageing, the emotional pain of losing people or things that we love, the psychological pain of not getting what we want, or of getting what we don’t want. These are simply flavours of life that are as inevitable as pleasure and sweetness. On the other hand, when we come very close to our experience, we discover another layer of pain that is optional: the suffering, stress or struggle that arises when we inwardly go to war with this moment.
This insight that pain is inevitable, but suffering is optional, is at the heart of the four noble truths. It leads to the second truth (samudaya, or source) which suggests that the origin of suffering lies in our clinging, or reactivity. It refers to the unwillingness to meet whatever is here in this moment with an open heart. This manifests as resisting or grasping, different expressions of the same thing. Holding on tightly to something that is arising is another way of resisting the reality of impermanence and change, just as resisting something in our experience is another way of holding on to our ideas of how we think things should be. Either way, the inner experience is one of contraction. We literally diminish our expansive selves in a futile attempt to get what we think we want.
The invitation, then, is one of letting go of our reactivity, so that we are able to embrace life. This practice of active surrender is very different from non-engagement. Rather, by relaxing the resisting or grasping that prevents us from meeting this moment fully, we are freed to engage with this moment wholeheartedly and unconditionally. It is a radical call to self-acceptance and love.
For many years I have been deeply moved by these words, offered by Mary Haskell to her great love, Kahlil Gibran:
Nothing you become will disappoint me.
I have no preconception that I’d like to see you be or do.
I have no desire to foresee you
Only to discover you.
You cannot disappoint me.
To me, this is the essence of the relationship the Buddha is inviting us into: with each other, with ourselves, and with this very moment. It implies a deep trust in the perfection of being, and in the boundless nature of the human heart. When we offer these words to ourselves, it is not that we are imagining we will (or should) never feel disappointment. But rather that when the feeling of disappointment is held and known, it is no longer disappointing. When fear is held and known, we are no longer afraid. When longing is held and known, we find ourselves at home in that which we were longing for. It is a call to tend to this tender moment with such love that there is no experience that is exiled from the heart.
The space that opens up within us when we end this inner war, is the very spaciousness of our essence nature. The third noble truth (niroda, or cessation) invites us to know this experience directly, as a natural and immediate phenomenon. The Buddha was radical in his descriptions of nirvana as “clearly visible and immediate”. Not something obscure or dependent on previous practices, but available to all in any moment. During his time, the “Unconditioned” was a noun, referring to God or Brahma. He turned it into a verb: to be unconditioned in our embodied knowing is liberation. The implications of this are profound.
The fourth noble truth (magga, or path) is usually described as a pathway towards this self-knowing, but it can also be felt directly as the very expression of an awakened heart-mind. When nirvana ceases to be the goal of our practice, but is felt directly as a non-reactive knowing available to all of us, it opens the possibility to act from this knowing. This “path”, then, is inseparable from the other noble truths, just as our practise is inseparable from our life. It simply describes appropriate, or awakened, response.
We can see this in everyday life. In order to be present to another person, we are called to truly embrace the being that is in front of us. Doing so means recognising, allowing and not identifying (blending) with, the wanting, judging or discomfort that arises in ourselves in their presence. So that we become aware of both their presence and our own reactivity, and experience the generosity of spirit that holds all this. From this non-reactive space, we are then free to respond with integrity, from our authentic nature. Which is Love. Ultimately, this is a profound invitation to give ourselves entirely to Love. To know ourselves, and all things, as Love, and therefore as already abundant and free.
When I run after what I think I want, my days are a furnace of stress and anxiety; if I sit in my own place of patience, what I need flows to me, and without pain. From this I understand that what I want also wants me, is looking for me and attracting me. There is a great secret here for anyone who can grasp it.
~ Rumi
At their essence, the Buddha’s iconic four noble truths are a profound invitation to love, echoing the heart of teachings from prophets and mystics across all traditions.
The first noble truth, dukkha parinna asks that “suffering is to be comprehended”: an invitation to turn deeply towards our direct experience of suffering in this moment in order to know its nature. We see that on the one hand, pain in life is inevitable. It is certain that we will experience the physical pain of illness and ageing, the emotional pain of losing people or things that we love, the psychological pain of not getting what we want, or of getting what we don’t want. These are simply flavours of life that are as inevitable as pleasure and sweetness. On the other hand, when we come very close to our experience, we discover another layer of pain that is optional: the suffering, stress or struggle that arises when we inwardly go to war with this moment.
This insight that pain is inevitable, but suffering is optional, is at the heart of the four noble truths. It leads to the second truth (samudaya, or source) which suggests that the origin of suffering lies in our clinging, or reactivity. It refers to the unwillingness to meet whatever is here in this moment with an open heart. This manifests as resisting or grasping, different expressions of the same thing. Holding on tightly to something that is arising is another way of resisting the reality of impermanence and change, just as resisting something in our experience is another way of holding on to our ideas of how we think things should be. Either way, the inner experience is one of contraction. We literally diminish our expansive selves in a futile attempt to get what we think we want.
The invitation, then, is one of letting go of our reactivity, so that we are able to embrace life. This practice of active surrender is very different from non-engagement. Rather, by relaxing the resisting or grasping that prevents us from meeting this moment fully, we are freed to engage with this moment wholeheartedly and unconditionally. It is a radical call to self-acceptance and love.
For many years I have been deeply moved by these words, offered by Mary Haskell to her great love, Kahlil Gibran:
Nothing you become will disappoint me.
I have no preconception that I’d like to see you be or do.
I have no desire to foresee you
Only to discover you.
You cannot disappoint me.
To me, this is the essence of the relationship the Buddha is inviting us into: with each other, with ourselves, and with this very moment. It implies a deep trust in the perfection of being, and in the boundless nature of the human heart. When we offer these words to ourselves, it is not that we are imagining we will (or should) never feel disappointment. But rather that when the feeling of disappointment is held and known, it is no longer disappointing. When fear is held and known, we are no longer afraid. When longing is held and known, we find ourselves at home in that which we were longing for. It is a call to tend to this tender moment with such love that there is no experience that is exiled from the heart.
The space that opens up within us when we end this inner war, is the very spaciousness of our essence nature. The third noble truth (niroda, or cessation) invites us to know this experience directly, as a natural and immediate phenomenon. The Buddha was radical in his descriptions of nirvana as “clearly visible and immediate”. Not something obscure or dependent on previous practices, but available to all in any moment. During his time, the “Unconditioned” was a noun, referring to God or Brahma. He turned it into a verb: to be unconditioned in our embodied knowing is liberation. The implications of this are profound.
The fourth noble truth (magga, or path) is usually described as a pathway towards this self-knowing, but it can also be felt directly as the very expression of an awakened heart-mind. When nirvana ceases to be the goal of our practice, but is felt directly as a non-reactive knowing available to all of us, it opens the possibility to act from this knowing. This “path”, then, is inseparable from the other noble truths, just as our practise is inseparable from our life. It simply describes appropriate, or awakened, response.
We can see this in everyday life. In order to be present to another person, we are called to truly embrace the being that is in front of us. Doing so means recognising, allowing and not identifying (blending) with, the wanting, judging or discomfort that arises in ourselves in their presence. So that we become aware of both their presence and our own reactivity, and experience the generosity of spirit that holds all this. From this non-reactive space, we are then free to respond with integrity, from our authentic nature. Which is Love. Ultimately, this is a profound invitation to give ourselves entirely to Love. To know ourselves, and all things, as Love, and therefore as already abundant and free.
You Show Me
The mystery of you
in the miracle of me
The sweetness of two
remembering One
Your hands wake up
the rush of my Being
Your eyes invite
the truth of my Self
Your presence delights
the One so delightful
Brightens the radiance
hidden but here
Your leaving reveals
the ache of the lost one
Points the found one
from shadows to light
Then wherever I turn
I find my reflection
Emptying of self
and filling with life
So grateful
you hold me
within my
own light
I love that
you show me
the love
that I am
The mystery of you
in the miracle of me
The sweetness of two
remembering One
Your hands wake up
the rush of my Being
Your eyes invite
the truth of my Self
Your presence delights
the One so delightful
Brightens the radiance
hidden but here
Your leaving reveals
the ache of the lost one
Points the found one
from shadows to light
Then wherever I turn
I find my reflection
Emptying of self
and filling with life
So grateful
you hold me
within my
own light
I love that
you show me
the love
that I am
Everything is Connected
“Your beliefs become your thoughts,
Your thoughts become your words,
Your words become your actions,
Your actions become your habits,
Your habits become your values,
Your values become your destiny.”
~ Mahatma Gandhi
In this changing, evolving universe, everything is influencing, and being influenced by, everything else. Like the waves and currents of an ocean, rising and falling, each moment is a co-dependent arising: the expression of all that is coming together right now.
Karma refers to this law of cause and effect, and is usually used in reference to previous and future lifetimes, but we can see it at play in each moment. Whatever you think, feel and do influences everything else, just as you are being influenced yourself by everything that is. When your actions stem from greed, hatred or ignorance, these are the ripples that extend into the world, and also the grooves that deepen in your own psyche.
It is said that where our attention goes, energy flows, and wherever energy flows becomes stronger and grows. In the end, greed can only breed more greed, violence more violence. Neuroscientists describe a similar pattern in brain development. Neurons that fire together, wire together, so whatever you frequently think and ponder upon becomes the inclination of your mind. You unwittingly strengthen your own neuroses, moment by moment. These neurological pathways become the default trajectories of the mind: karma in action.
But the brain is also described as having a plasticity, or malleability, which concurs with the law of impermanence: everything changes. When you practice consciously and compassionately re-directing your attention to the present moment, you create new neurological pathways based on presence and compassion. Your actions then stem from this place of wholeness within you. As Gandhi famously said, your beliefs become your actions.
This inseparable connection between body, heart and mind implies that each of these doorways are powerful portals to awakening, each supporting the other. Practising yoga asanas cultivates both stability and space in the body, allowing the mind to relax and wake up, and the heart to open. Meditation supports these same qualities of mind, which over time brings ease and lightness to body and heart. Practices of the heart, including psychological enquiry, relationship and devotional yoga in turn illuminate the mind and free the body. I bow deeply at the feet of all three, with gratitude.
Overreaching all of these doorways is the karma of perception. The way in which you are interpreting this moment, right now, is inevitably filtered through a lens of perception, based on past conditioning and experiences. These words, in themselves, are nothing more than patterns on the page until you create meaning from them. Without this perception, everything in life is empty of meaning: the sounds you hear are no more than music, the emotions you feel, simply sensations. The meaning you give to something defines it as sacred or profane. Precious or an obstacle. A gift or a burden.
This choice is yours, truly, and returns you to the rightful place of master (mistress) of your destiny in this deeply precious, changing and extraordinary world.
“Your beliefs become your thoughts,
Your thoughts become your words,
Your words become your actions,
Your actions become your habits,
Your habits become your values,
Your values become your destiny.”
~ Mahatma Gandhi
In this changing, evolving universe, everything is influencing, and being influenced by, everything else. Like the waves and currents of an ocean, rising and falling, each moment is a co-dependent arising: the expression of all that is coming together right now.
Karma refers to this law of cause and effect, and is usually used in reference to previous and future lifetimes, but we can see it at play in each moment. Whatever you think, feel and do influences everything else, just as you are being influenced yourself by everything that is. When your actions stem from greed, hatred or ignorance, these are the ripples that extend into the world, and also the grooves that deepen in your own psyche.
It is said that where our attention goes, energy flows, and wherever energy flows becomes stronger and grows. In the end, greed can only breed more greed, violence more violence. Neuroscientists describe a similar pattern in brain development. Neurons that fire together, wire together, so whatever you frequently think and ponder upon becomes the inclination of your mind. You unwittingly strengthen your own neuroses, moment by moment. These neurological pathways become the default trajectories of the mind: karma in action.
But the brain is also described as having a plasticity, or malleability, which concurs with the law of impermanence: everything changes. When you practice consciously and compassionately re-directing your attention to the present moment, you create new neurological pathways based on presence and compassion. Your actions then stem from this place of wholeness within you. As Gandhi famously said, your beliefs become your actions.
This inseparable connection between body, heart and mind implies that each of these doorways are powerful portals to awakening, each supporting the other. Practising yoga asanas cultivates both stability and space in the body, allowing the mind to relax and wake up, and the heart to open. Meditation supports these same qualities of mind, which over time brings ease and lightness to body and heart. Practices of the heart, including psychological enquiry, relationship and devotional yoga in turn illuminate the mind and free the body. I bow deeply at the feet of all three, with gratitude.
Overreaching all of these doorways is the karma of perception. The way in which you are interpreting this moment, right now, is inevitably filtered through a lens of perception, based on past conditioning and experiences. These words, in themselves, are nothing more than patterns on the page until you create meaning from them. Without this perception, everything in life is empty of meaning: the sounds you hear are no more than music, the emotions you feel, simply sensations. The meaning you give to something defines it as sacred or profane. Precious or an obstacle. A gift or a burden.
This choice is yours, truly, and returns you to the rightful place of master (mistress) of your destiny in this deeply precious, changing and extraordinary world.
Everything is Extraordinary
The earliest body of Indian scripture, the Vedas, suggest that in the beginning was simply the Absolute, the mind of the Absolute present in the infinite dark. Then within the mind of the Absolute, there arose the thought “I am”. And immediately following that thought came fear.
Perhaps we can relate this to our own incarnation also? At a certain point the possibility of existing as a separate self seems to materialise in the young child’s mind, and immediately following that thought is fear. Being separate and special means that we are vulnerable to loss. As we grow we gather more reinforcements to self, and to the extent that we identify with these accruements (such as our role, status, looks or intelligence… even this body), we have all of these to lose, and therefore to defend. Our deep longing to feel special, leads us to view the world through a lens of duality in order to maintain this perspective. We are left swinging painfully between feeling superior and inferior, between success and failure, gain and loss, between giving or receiving praise and blame…
Sound familiar?
The truth is that you are not special, friend. Nor are you alone.
But you, and we, are extraordinary beyond our wildest dreams.
Pause for a moment.
Notice the sounds that move around you.
Can you also sense a witness quality within you, that which knows this sound?
Feel the sensations right now in your body.
Can you also feel the awareness of them, the simple cognisance, or presence that knows them?
Meditation practice guides us to rest with curiosity in awareness itself. We begin to taste the flavour of this space through which experience moves.
People throughout time have agreed on certain characteristics or expressions of awareness. Spacious, luminous, and loving. Unchanged by that which moves through it.
Like a wide open blue sky through which all weather patterns move.
Like a vast ocean which unconditionally holds all waves, recognising them to be itself.
The Ego-self operates with the illusion of existing as something special, separate and unchanging. Not wanting to dissolve into the vastness of the sky, it attempts to manage the weather. In an attempt to feel in control and special, it convinces us that we are separate: from the Earth, from each other, from Spirit. Even our body, mind and heart, are somehow perceived to be separate from each other. The unrecognised sacrifice that we carry are wounds of severed belonging and fear of loss. The root of all suffering.
The truth is, when we really come close to any experience, we cannot find anything existing in isolation. Nothing is separate or special. There is only this, here, now. Precious, always changing, influencing and being influenced by everything else. We exist as part of a complex web of interbeing. Which means we are no longer special, yet each of us unique and extraordinary. Knowing this, we are no longer afraid to shine and receive each other’s radiance. No longer afraid to love and be loved.
When we know ourselves to be the sky, we’re not afraid of the storms.
When we trust that we’re the ocean, we’re not afraid of the waves.
When we know ourselves to be Love, we can move ourselves as love, uniquely and creatively, in this extraordinary world.
The earliest body of Indian scripture, the Vedas, suggest that in the beginning was simply the Absolute, the mind of the Absolute present in the infinite dark. Then within the mind of the Absolute, there arose the thought “I am”. And immediately following that thought came fear.
Perhaps we can relate this to our own incarnation also? At a certain point the possibility of existing as a separate self seems to materialise in the young child’s mind, and immediately following that thought is fear. Being separate and special means that we are vulnerable to loss. As we grow we gather more reinforcements to self, and to the extent that we identify with these accruements (such as our role, status, looks or intelligence… even this body), we have all of these to lose, and therefore to defend. Our deep longing to feel special, leads us to view the world through a lens of duality in order to maintain this perspective. We are left swinging painfully between feeling superior and inferior, between success and failure, gain and loss, between giving or receiving praise and blame…
Sound familiar?
The truth is that you are not special, friend. Nor are you alone.
But you, and we, are extraordinary beyond our wildest dreams.
Pause for a moment.
Notice the sounds that move around you.
Can you also sense a witness quality within you, that which knows this sound?
Feel the sensations right now in your body.
Can you also feel the awareness of them, the simple cognisance, or presence that knows them?
Meditation practice guides us to rest with curiosity in awareness itself. We begin to taste the flavour of this space through which experience moves.
People throughout time have agreed on certain characteristics or expressions of awareness. Spacious, luminous, and loving. Unchanged by that which moves through it.
Like a wide open blue sky through which all weather patterns move.
Like a vast ocean which unconditionally holds all waves, recognising them to be itself.
The Ego-self operates with the illusion of existing as something special, separate and unchanging. Not wanting to dissolve into the vastness of the sky, it attempts to manage the weather. In an attempt to feel in control and special, it convinces us that we are separate: from the Earth, from each other, from Spirit. Even our body, mind and heart, are somehow perceived to be separate from each other. The unrecognised sacrifice that we carry are wounds of severed belonging and fear of loss. The root of all suffering.
The truth is, when we really come close to any experience, we cannot find anything existing in isolation. Nothing is separate or special. There is only this, here, now. Precious, always changing, influencing and being influenced by everything else. We exist as part of a complex web of interbeing. Which means we are no longer special, yet each of us unique and extraordinary. Knowing this, we are no longer afraid to shine and receive each other’s radiance. No longer afraid to love and be loved.
When we know ourselves to be the sky, we’re not afraid of the storms.
When we trust that we’re the ocean, we’re not afraid of the waves.
When we know ourselves to be Love, we can move ourselves as love, uniquely and creatively, in this extraordinary world.
Everything Changes
Everything changes.
This moment is running through your fingers like sand, even as you experience it.
Notice the sounds you can hear right now; how they move like an ever-flowing river.
Pay attention to the sensations you feel in your body. When we really come close we discover there is nothing static here.
It is the mind that creates an illusion of solidity with its labels and preferences.
These thoughts themselves, though often looping, are always moving.
Nothing stays the same.
The Ego mind creates an illusion of solidity and certainty in an attempt to feel in control. Yet if you really pay attention and look closely, you will discover the uncomfortable reality that this changing experience is devoid of certainty. In truth, you cannot know what the next moment will hold. You can make good guesses based on past experiences, but you can never really know. In fact, the only true certainty of life is death. The exact time is unknown for each of us, but it is certain that you will lose everything and everyone you love in the form that you know it.
The conventional, reactive mind deals with the uncertainty of the next moment and the certainty of death by vigorously denying them both! We imagine we can control all eventualities, and create more and more complex systems of prediction and control. We glorify youth and institutionalise death. But still, everything changes, nothing stays the same. So, we distract, pacify and numb ourselves in increasingly ingenious ways.
The wisdom traditions throughout time have invited us to turn towards reality, rather than away from it. We are asked to stand in the centre of the often uncomfortable fire of truth, until it burns all protective ideas, beliefs and cleverness to ashes. What remains is a simple question: knowing the unshakable truth of impermanence, what really matters? And are we willing to live in accordance with the answer?
In your last moments of life, would you die knowing you had been true to yourself? That you had lived your life as an authentic expression of what you deeply cherish and value?
Through her conversations with patients in their last days of life, the palliative care nurse Bronnie Ware discovered they tended to share five major regrets:
I wish I had the courage to live a life true to myself, not what others expected of me
I wish I didn’t work so hard
I wish I had the courage to express my feelings
I wish I had prioritised loving relationships
I wish I had let myself be happier
What really matters to you?
Everything changes.
This moment is running through your fingers like sand, even as you experience it.
Notice the sounds you can hear right now; how they move like an ever-flowing river.
Pay attention to the sensations you feel in your body. When we really come close we discover there is nothing static here.
It is the mind that creates an illusion of solidity with its labels and preferences.
These thoughts themselves, though often looping, are always moving.
Nothing stays the same.
The Ego mind creates an illusion of solidity and certainty in an attempt to feel in control. Yet if you really pay attention and look closely, you will discover the uncomfortable reality that this changing experience is devoid of certainty. In truth, you cannot know what the next moment will hold. You can make good guesses based on past experiences, but you can never really know. In fact, the only true certainty of life is death. The exact time is unknown for each of us, but it is certain that you will lose everything and everyone you love in the form that you know it.
The conventional, reactive mind deals with the uncertainty of the next moment and the certainty of death by vigorously denying them both! We imagine we can control all eventualities, and create more and more complex systems of prediction and control. We glorify youth and institutionalise death. But still, everything changes, nothing stays the same. So, we distract, pacify and numb ourselves in increasingly ingenious ways.
The wisdom traditions throughout time have invited us to turn towards reality, rather than away from it. We are asked to stand in the centre of the often uncomfortable fire of truth, until it burns all protective ideas, beliefs and cleverness to ashes. What remains is a simple question: knowing the unshakable truth of impermanence, what really matters? And are we willing to live in accordance with the answer?
In your last moments of life, would you die knowing you had been true to yourself? That you had lived your life as an authentic expression of what you deeply cherish and value?
Through her conversations with patients in their last days of life, the palliative care nurse Bronnie Ware discovered they tended to share five major regrets:
I wish I had the courage to live a life true to myself, not what others expected of me
I wish I didn’t work so hard
I wish I had the courage to express my feelings
I wish I had prioritised loving relationships
I wish I had let myself be happier
What really matters to you?
Everything is Precious
From a Buddhist perspective, this human life is a unique opportunity for waking up. We have the potential to live a life of extraordinary grace and blessing, for ourselves and for others.
It may be that everything in the universe is an expression of Buddha nature (or Divine Love, God, Allah, Essence… there are many names for the nameless), but the Buddha highlighted the unique opportunities for us to know this nature fully. Having a body can be seen as a powerful anchor for consciousness, able to meet the friction of embodied life, and learn and grow from this feedback. Our emotional sensitivity and intellect allow for both deep feeling and profound self-reflection. Yet these blessings are only accessible at times when our fundamental needs of safety, health and free choice are met. So, we are collectively blessed by our potential as human beings, and we are individually blessed when we have a life that is conducive to practice.
Tibetan Buddhism speaks about this in terms of appreciating the blessings of not being born into other realms of existence: the hell, hungry ghost, animal and god realms. The first three realms are conditions of such extreme suffering and struggle that our immediate safety and survival are the only possible areas of attention. Without ensuring the relative health and safety of this body, it’s extremely difficult (though not impossible) to turn towards a deeper knowing of the truth of reality. In the god realms, on the other hand, where life is filled with ease and comfort and free of pain and suffering, there is no friction to grow from. We receive no feedback that shows us the dissatisfaction inherent in being directed exclusively by what we want and don’t want. When every desire is fulfilled, the deeper lingering feeling of unfulfilment can easily be avoided by yet another desire briefly satisfied.
It’s possible that these realms are indeed planes of existence that are separate from this human life, but the teaching can also be experienced in a very direct way when we see how we inhabit these very realms in this human body. How we collectively long for an imagined god realm, celebrating those who appear to be adorned with all the trappings of ease, pleasure and comfort (and ignoring their obvious confusion and desperation). And how people living in great poverty, war, ignorance and violence will very likely be consumed with getting basic needs met, and staying alive.
A reflection on preciousness, then, is a call to use each and every one of our blessings to wake up to life. To appreciate deeply our relative safety, health, intelligence, sensitivity and capacity to love. To reflect on the enormous support of generations of deep practitioners who have paved the way before us. It’s a call for a willingness to be utterly open to the teachings of this moment, in each moment, as well as a commitment to living a life aligned with the deeper truth that begins to reveal itself.
But it’s also a call to see how our struggles are equally potent doorways to awakening. When we live a life that is open and curious, we begin to see that the times of greatest discomfort and pain often become the stimulus for our greatest growth. For the untrained mind, when something hurts, or we encounter resistance or wanting, the mind tends to move to demand or defend. We tend to default to blaming, shaming, resisting or clinging in an attempt to get what we think we need. With practice, we learn to turn inwards towards the struggle itself, and often find that the very holding, safety and love that we are offering ourselves, is in fact what we have been fruitlessly searching for on the outside all along.
If having this body, heart and mind allows us to feel each moment intimately, and reflect deeply on what we feel, the responsibility to love wholeheartedly what we find is ours alone. Doing so invites us to step back into the truth of who we are. When we hold the suffering of this moment with love, we remember the love that we are. We remember that our true nature is Buddha nature. We wake up, and love others into awakening in return.
From a Buddhist perspective, this human life is a unique opportunity for waking up. We have the potential to live a life of extraordinary grace and blessing, for ourselves and for others.
It may be that everything in the universe is an expression of Buddha nature (or Divine Love, God, Allah, Essence… there are many names for the nameless), but the Buddha highlighted the unique opportunities for us to know this nature fully. Having a body can be seen as a powerful anchor for consciousness, able to meet the friction of embodied life, and learn and grow from this feedback. Our emotional sensitivity and intellect allow for both deep feeling and profound self-reflection. Yet these blessings are only accessible at times when our fundamental needs of safety, health and free choice are met. So, we are collectively blessed by our potential as human beings, and we are individually blessed when we have a life that is conducive to practice.
Tibetan Buddhism speaks about this in terms of appreciating the blessings of not being born into other realms of existence: the hell, hungry ghost, animal and god realms. The first three realms are conditions of such extreme suffering and struggle that our immediate safety and survival are the only possible areas of attention. Without ensuring the relative health and safety of this body, it’s extremely difficult (though not impossible) to turn towards a deeper knowing of the truth of reality. In the god realms, on the other hand, where life is filled with ease and comfort and free of pain and suffering, there is no friction to grow from. We receive no feedback that shows us the dissatisfaction inherent in being directed exclusively by what we want and don’t want. When every desire is fulfilled, the deeper lingering feeling of unfulfilment can easily be avoided by yet another desire briefly satisfied.
It’s possible that these realms are indeed planes of existence that are separate from this human life, but the teaching can also be experienced in a very direct way when we see how we inhabit these very realms in this human body. How we collectively long for an imagined god realm, celebrating those who appear to be adorned with all the trappings of ease, pleasure and comfort (and ignoring their obvious confusion and desperation). And how people living in great poverty, war, ignorance and violence will very likely be consumed with getting basic needs met, and staying alive.
A reflection on preciousness, then, is a call to use each and every one of our blessings to wake up to life. To appreciate deeply our relative safety, health, intelligence, sensitivity and capacity to love. To reflect on the enormous support of generations of deep practitioners who have paved the way before us. It’s a call for a willingness to be utterly open to the teachings of this moment, in each moment, as well as a commitment to living a life aligned with the deeper truth that begins to reveal itself.
But it’s also a call to see how our struggles are equally potent doorways to awakening. When we live a life that is open and curious, we begin to see that the times of greatest discomfort and pain often become the stimulus for our greatest growth. For the untrained mind, when something hurts, or we encounter resistance or wanting, the mind tends to move to demand or defend. We tend to default to blaming, shaming, resisting or clinging in an attempt to get what we think we need. With practice, we learn to turn inwards towards the struggle itself, and often find that the very holding, safety and love that we are offering ourselves, is in fact what we have been fruitlessly searching for on the outside all along.
If having this body, heart and mind allows us to feel each moment intimately, and reflect deeply on what we feel, the responsibility to love wholeheartedly what we find is ours alone. Doing so invites us to step back into the truth of who we are. When we hold the suffering of this moment with love, we remember the love that we are. We remember that our true nature is Buddha nature. We wake up, and love others into awakening in return.
Beloved Soul
The path you are walking is perfect
in its uncertainty and complexity.
Trust in the unfolding.
This moment is a web of many threads
of which you are one,
inseparably woven.
Watch for the pushing, my love,
when it feels uncomfortable here
and you search for resolution there.
Lean back as one who is empty,
who listens deeply, courageously
to many threads whispering.
Dive in and find a universe here.
Another web thickly woven,
multiple strands creating one.
Each thread that makes
this moment’s weave
contains a forest within.
The path you are walking is perfect
in its uncertainty and complexity.
Trust in the unfolding.
You are loved more than you can know
as you move into knowing yourself as Love.
Look nowhere else, but here.
The path you are walking is perfect
in its uncertainty and complexity.
Trust in the unfolding.
This moment is a web of many threads
of which you are one,
inseparably woven.
Watch for the pushing, my love,
when it feels uncomfortable here
and you search for resolution there.
Lean back as one who is empty,
who listens deeply, courageously
to many threads whispering.
Dive in and find a universe here.
Another web thickly woven,
multiple strands creating one.
Each thread that makes
this moment’s weave
contains a forest within.
The path you are walking is perfect
in its uncertainty and complexity.
Trust in the unfolding.
You are loved more than you can know
as you move into knowing yourself as Love.
Look nowhere else, but here.
At the Core of Being there is Love
Here’s what I’ve found in myself: at the core of Being there is Love. The experience of this Love is so vast, powerful, unruly and whole, that when it’s felt the mind has a tantrum. Love threatens the dissolution of an idea called Me, so to keep Me safe I package love up with a small L and project it out there. That which I long for is now out there, leaving Me vulnerable to another idea called You or This, and the profound disempowerment of this imagined loss invokes deep fear. It is so deeply uncomfortable to stay with this fear that the mind moves in two directions: wanting or resisting. The created Me now wants an imagined You or This to alleviate a fear that Love (which was never separate) could be taken away. Me asks You for a guarantee of unshakable love: please shine this on Me so the light will never go! But because Love isn’t small or packaged out there, but vast and always here, this pact can never be fulfilled unless we choose to play games together, both pretending we’re incomplete. If not, the apparent imperfection in You and This relentlessly stimulates fear in Me, and so wanting regularly flips to resisting, testing, blaming. Fear reinforcing her own self-importance: Look how unreliable love is, out there! Look how deficient You are, how diminished this Me has become because of You!
Such a dance. A whole life dancing from fear to wanting to resisting. All because an idea called Me hasn’t realised that she also belongs in Love. Even this idea is held here too: safe, complete, perfect. A piece of the constellation of Love, not the universe of self that has to source and protect it. At the core of Being there is Love, entirely free to marvel at the myriad mysterious ways it moves.
Here’s what I’ve found in myself: at the core of Being there is Love. The experience of this Love is so vast, powerful, unruly and whole, that when it’s felt the mind has a tantrum. Love threatens the dissolution of an idea called Me, so to keep Me safe I package love up with a small L and project it out there. That which I long for is now out there, leaving Me vulnerable to another idea called You or This, and the profound disempowerment of this imagined loss invokes deep fear. It is so deeply uncomfortable to stay with this fear that the mind moves in two directions: wanting or resisting. The created Me now wants an imagined You or This to alleviate a fear that Love (which was never separate) could be taken away. Me asks You for a guarantee of unshakable love: please shine this on Me so the light will never go! But because Love isn’t small or packaged out there, but vast and always here, this pact can never be fulfilled unless we choose to play games together, both pretending we’re incomplete. If not, the apparent imperfection in You and This relentlessly stimulates fear in Me, and so wanting regularly flips to resisting, testing, blaming. Fear reinforcing her own self-importance: Look how unreliable love is, out there! Look how deficient You are, how diminished this Me has become because of You!
Such a dance. A whole life dancing from fear to wanting to resisting. All because an idea called Me hasn’t realised that she also belongs in Love. Even this idea is held here too: safe, complete, perfect. A piece of the constellation of Love, not the universe of self that has to source and protect it. At the core of Being there is Love, entirely free to marvel at the myriad mysterious ways it moves.
Here
The tenderness here
so vulnerable
like drops of rain on glass
Has always searched
for anything
to fill the ache
The loneliness here
so deep
beyond the reach of friendships
or lovers
sits like a scar in the bedrock of
my being
The fear here
that the machine of life will spit
me out
for not knowing the rules
alert in the belly of my eyes
So when I
see you see me
I reach to pour you onto
my wounds
my medicine, salvation
But life beats its heart
against the veneer of projection
and the cracks in my saviour
remind me, again
That nobody else can hold me
more steady
than this heart
here
No eyes can see this child
so lonely
like these eyes
here
No hand can guide this soul
through mystery
uncertainty
like this hand
here
It's not you
I've been searching for, friend
It's home
And wholeness
Here
The tenderness here
so vulnerable
like drops of rain on glass
Has always searched
for anything
to fill the ache
The loneliness here
so deep
beyond the reach of friendships
or lovers
sits like a scar in the bedrock of
my being
The fear here
that the machine of life will spit
me out
for not knowing the rules
alert in the belly of my eyes
So when I
see you see me
I reach to pour you onto
my wounds
my medicine, salvation
But life beats its heart
against the veneer of projection
and the cracks in my saviour
remind me, again
That nobody else can hold me
more steady
than this heart
here
No eyes can see this child
so lonely
like these eyes
here
No hand can guide this soul
through mystery
uncertainty
like this hand
here
It's not you
I've been searching for, friend
It's home
And wholeness
Here
Dancing mirrors
I am coming to see how each one of you that I meet is a mirror to me: those of you I think I love, and those of you I’m suspicious of or defend against, all simply reflect back my love or my limitations. When I imagine them to be real in you, I walk through the world judging, comparing and trying to fix. But when I see that your grit and gristle would move straight through me if it didn’t meet the same friction in me, I can understand that both the love and limitations are reflections in myself longing to be known and embraced. I’m discovering that once I’ve cleaned my own grime, I’m free to stay and love you as you are, or I’m free to walk away. You can’t hurt me and I can’t lose you: the hurt and loneliness is mine not yours, so the responsibility to love it wholeheartedly is mine too. It is leaving me with a feeling of such wonder and amazement at the dances we’re all dancing! Thank you, all of you, for sharing yours, in your own unique ways, and for witnessing mine as stumble with perfect imperfection across the dance floor! I love you.
I am coming to see how each one of you that I meet is a mirror to me: those of you I think I love, and those of you I’m suspicious of or defend against, all simply reflect back my love or my limitations. When I imagine them to be real in you, I walk through the world judging, comparing and trying to fix. But when I see that your grit and gristle would move straight through me if it didn’t meet the same friction in me, I can understand that both the love and limitations are reflections in myself longing to be known and embraced. I’m discovering that once I’ve cleaned my own grime, I’m free to stay and love you as you are, or I’m free to walk away. You can’t hurt me and I can’t lose you: the hurt and loneliness is mine not yours, so the responsibility to love it wholeheartedly is mine too. It is leaving me with a feeling of such wonder and amazement at the dances we’re all dancing! Thank you, all of you, for sharing yours, in your own unique ways, and for witnessing mine as stumble with perfect imperfection across the dance floor! I love you.
What if?
Once I believed, like you
that we were empty, alone
needing to fill up
own Love
consume Earth
define Self
In hollowness
we sought to stamp identity
on everything around us
Calling the world
to reflect ourselves back
so we didn't disappear
But what if
in truth
we are so very full
that skin appears an arbitrary boundary
and eyes a portal
through which Being spills and slides
to spiral with breeze
dance with waves
fly with birds?
And what if
in truth
love is not a transaction between us
needing guarding, defining
always scarce
But the waters we swim in
the air we breathe
the light that shines from our eyes?
What if
love is abundant
already here
and free?
Once I believed, like you
that we were empty, alone
needing to fill up
own Love
consume Earth
define Self
In hollowness
we sought to stamp identity
on everything around us
Calling the world
to reflect ourselves back
so we didn't disappear
But what if
in truth
we are so very full
that skin appears an arbitrary boundary
and eyes a portal
through which Being spills and slides
to spiral with breeze
dance with waves
fly with birds?
And what if
in truth
love is not a transaction between us
needing guarding, defining
always scarce
But the waters we swim in
the air we breathe
the light that shines from our eyes?
What if
love is abundant
already here
and free?
Wide Open
Watching a fly repeatedly hurtle its body against a wall and then collapse in resignation, I realise at times I'm not so different from this. The times I get caught up in a fight with what's here, both real and imagined. Or surrender to an idea of victimhood, finding comfort in blame or the hope of being saved.
The truth is, this moment is already happening. All the conditions that are, are rising up to look like this. I can choose to close my eyes and see only what fits my idea of reality, but I will then have to numb myself against the underlying dissatisfaction of having abandoned aliveness. This is the sacrifice I accept when I follow my mind’s definitions of what I think I want or need.
When I listen to the resonance of my heart, I'm listening to all that is true in this moment, inner and outer. And at that point I see that I am one part of a wider flow of truth. What's here, is here, and my own heart is a piece of that unfolding matrix.
When I step into mind, I go to war or become victim to anything that doesn't match my idea about how things should be. But to fight or be slain implies separation, and the heart knows no separateness.
Following my heart, or truth, still hurts, of course, because life will show me each of my self imposed limitations in turn, in every moment I get fearful of the future or move to defend or attack in the present. Moving with the flow of this unfolding moment, aligned with my truth, it may be that I appear crazy, an agitator, a visionary or a threat to others still asleep in their minds. Love can be fierce as well as gentle: the path of truth demands enormous courage.
Watching the fly, lost in its own futile self destruction… and willing it to pause, listen, trust. Until it sees the room that it's in, and sees that the window has always been wide open. It’s the same for you and I, friend. It’s the same for us all. This moment is already happening: we can choose to stay asleep and at war, or we can choose to wake up, and participate wholeheartedly in the dance. You matter, I matter. What our hearts are here for truly matters.
Watching a fly repeatedly hurtle its body against a wall and then collapse in resignation, I realise at times I'm not so different from this. The times I get caught up in a fight with what's here, both real and imagined. Or surrender to an idea of victimhood, finding comfort in blame or the hope of being saved.
The truth is, this moment is already happening. All the conditions that are, are rising up to look like this. I can choose to close my eyes and see only what fits my idea of reality, but I will then have to numb myself against the underlying dissatisfaction of having abandoned aliveness. This is the sacrifice I accept when I follow my mind’s definitions of what I think I want or need.
When I listen to the resonance of my heart, I'm listening to all that is true in this moment, inner and outer. And at that point I see that I am one part of a wider flow of truth. What's here, is here, and my own heart is a piece of that unfolding matrix.
When I step into mind, I go to war or become victim to anything that doesn't match my idea about how things should be. But to fight or be slain implies separation, and the heart knows no separateness.
Following my heart, or truth, still hurts, of course, because life will show me each of my self imposed limitations in turn, in every moment I get fearful of the future or move to defend or attack in the present. Moving with the flow of this unfolding moment, aligned with my truth, it may be that I appear crazy, an agitator, a visionary or a threat to others still asleep in their minds. Love can be fierce as well as gentle: the path of truth demands enormous courage.
Watching the fly, lost in its own futile self destruction… and willing it to pause, listen, trust. Until it sees the room that it's in, and sees that the window has always been wide open. It’s the same for you and I, friend. It’s the same for us all. This moment is already happening: we can choose to stay asleep and at war, or we can choose to wake up, and participate wholeheartedly in the dance. You matter, I matter. What our hearts are here for truly matters.
Healing Beyond Anger
When we suppress our anger we deny the truth of ourselves. But when we stay at the level of perpetrator and victim we feed the stories of hatred and separation, and deny the truth of our union. Can we look to see what is here beyond the story? Can we recognise how much anger is here in our collective field needing to be fully acknowledged, whilst we cultivate the courage to bow with reverence in the face of the pain that lies behind it?
For me, when I travel inside and search beyond the anger story, I find a pain so old and tender that it’s hard for my mind to stay with it. It’s the pain of being vulnerable in body, yet vast in soul. The pain of feeling unsafe, unseen. The sense is one of abandonment, betrayal, but the deeper wound here is that of having abandoned myself. To have left this vastness in order to be complicit in other’s projections and expectations. In order to keep this body safe. The pain of self abandonment for real or apparent survival.
Even as I sit with the tears of this, my mind flips to the saviours who appear to see me and know my true self, who can make me whole again. To the “better” other, this time, who won’t ask me to leave myself. But it’s another form of self abandonment, this longing to be saved. A way of unknowingly staying a victim, estranged from myself, dependent on a gift that cannot be given.
When I remember, I remind myself in these moments that there is no other. No story. Just this, here. The lost one, found again. Unsafe one, safe again. These tears sacred pearls that show an end to the banishment.
And when I no longer need “you” to love me, protect me and recognise me, we both become free. You’re free to be you, I’m free to heal me. We may be broken, yes, but we’re broken whole again. There's a healing beyond anger that allows us to love again.
When we suppress our anger we deny the truth of ourselves. But when we stay at the level of perpetrator and victim we feed the stories of hatred and separation, and deny the truth of our union. Can we look to see what is here beyond the story? Can we recognise how much anger is here in our collective field needing to be fully acknowledged, whilst we cultivate the courage to bow with reverence in the face of the pain that lies behind it?
For me, when I travel inside and search beyond the anger story, I find a pain so old and tender that it’s hard for my mind to stay with it. It’s the pain of being vulnerable in body, yet vast in soul. The pain of feeling unsafe, unseen. The sense is one of abandonment, betrayal, but the deeper wound here is that of having abandoned myself. To have left this vastness in order to be complicit in other’s projections and expectations. In order to keep this body safe. The pain of self abandonment for real or apparent survival.
Even as I sit with the tears of this, my mind flips to the saviours who appear to see me and know my true self, who can make me whole again. To the “better” other, this time, who won’t ask me to leave myself. But it’s another form of self abandonment, this longing to be saved. A way of unknowingly staying a victim, estranged from myself, dependent on a gift that cannot be given.
When I remember, I remind myself in these moments that there is no other. No story. Just this, here. The lost one, found again. Unsafe one, safe again. These tears sacred pearls that show an end to the banishment.
And when I no longer need “you” to love me, protect me and recognise me, we both become free. You’re free to be you, I’m free to heal me. We may be broken, yes, but we’re broken whole again. There's a healing beyond anger that allows us to love again.
#metoo
Like so very many of you, my earliest introductions into my feminine power were distorted, all forms of being someone else’s object. From the serious and scarring, to the seeming everyday: a teenage girl frequently molested in London rush-hour tubes, always cat-calls on the street... my own response was to hide my sexuality, hide myself, and to become silent.
I applaud the courage of the women currently stepping forward, stepping out of the silence, stepping into themselves.
And I would love the conversation to move beyond the duality of “them” and “us”. To move beyond the separation between perpetrator and victim. Because separation fuels our own victimhood, stokes the fires of hatred, implies we need protection and that the suffering here isn’t universal.
I have no answers, but many questions. What has to die in a man to abuse, or even just objectify a woman? What has to die in a woman to internalise this message? Can we, men and women, begin to ask ourselves the uncomfortable questions as to where we have all been complicit in a story that has placed man in the painful role of protector/persecutor, and woman in the equally painful role of defenceless victim? Can we expose the hypocrisy in a society where men are still asked to set aside their ethics and humanity in order to protect and provide, and then those same men are castrated when they come home no longer remembering how to be kind and gentle? Where women are expected to be “equals” in society as well as enlightened caregivers, yet are blocked from speaking their voice and exerting their influence in almost every institution, whilst all support for community and family has crumbled around us?
When did we as men and women abandon our true power and buy into a construct of sexuality as manipulation? (Does it mean something, for example, that we women still agree to wear shoes that appear to lengthen our legs despite compromising our bodies?) Can we look more deeply at the line between freedom of expression and celebrating sexuality on the one hand, and adapting to a norm that defines us as sexual objects on the other? Can the ways that we all, men and women, move through the world become authentic expressions of ourselves and our sexuality, above playing into a collective story of how we need to look, behave or conform, or what we need to achieve to be acceptable and lovable?
We have lived through millennia of a fear of our sexual power, both masculine and feminine. It is a fear that has suppressed, exploited and distorted that which we both long for and feel overwhelmed by. As we grow into our potential, individually and collectively, we will begin to experience the divine power of sexuality as a meeting place across the divide of gender or race, where we are no longer afraid of ourselves or each other.
What will it take for both genders to decide to step side by side and own our masculine and feminine power as we join hands, and see ourselves in each other? What responsibility do we have as mothers, fathers, lovers, teachers, friends to allow men to be vulnerable and women to be strong? Is it time for us to collectively step beyond war, where we no longer attack or assault the “other” (gender/race/class/sexual orientation), but rather in a deep embrace of our own wounds, discover the “other’s” pain there too? As Rumi said, “out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing there is a field” … beyond submission, beyond blame, beyond war. I’ll meet you there.
Can we find the courage now to embrace our suppressed anger, but catch its energy as it moves outwards in blame or inwards in shame, and harness its power in a real and creative change that heals our wounds and redefines who we allow ourselves to be in this world today? Let us realise that we are powerful beyond measure and that only loving forgiveness and a willingness to go beyond this story of separation will allow us all, men and women to remember how to live with each other again.
Like so very many of you, my earliest introductions into my feminine power were distorted, all forms of being someone else’s object. From the serious and scarring, to the seeming everyday: a teenage girl frequently molested in London rush-hour tubes, always cat-calls on the street... my own response was to hide my sexuality, hide myself, and to become silent.
I applaud the courage of the women currently stepping forward, stepping out of the silence, stepping into themselves.
And I would love the conversation to move beyond the duality of “them” and “us”. To move beyond the separation between perpetrator and victim. Because separation fuels our own victimhood, stokes the fires of hatred, implies we need protection and that the suffering here isn’t universal.
I have no answers, but many questions. What has to die in a man to abuse, or even just objectify a woman? What has to die in a woman to internalise this message? Can we, men and women, begin to ask ourselves the uncomfortable questions as to where we have all been complicit in a story that has placed man in the painful role of protector/persecutor, and woman in the equally painful role of defenceless victim? Can we expose the hypocrisy in a society where men are still asked to set aside their ethics and humanity in order to protect and provide, and then those same men are castrated when they come home no longer remembering how to be kind and gentle? Where women are expected to be “equals” in society as well as enlightened caregivers, yet are blocked from speaking their voice and exerting their influence in almost every institution, whilst all support for community and family has crumbled around us?
When did we as men and women abandon our true power and buy into a construct of sexuality as manipulation? (Does it mean something, for example, that we women still agree to wear shoes that appear to lengthen our legs despite compromising our bodies?) Can we look more deeply at the line between freedom of expression and celebrating sexuality on the one hand, and adapting to a norm that defines us as sexual objects on the other? Can the ways that we all, men and women, move through the world become authentic expressions of ourselves and our sexuality, above playing into a collective story of how we need to look, behave or conform, or what we need to achieve to be acceptable and lovable?
We have lived through millennia of a fear of our sexual power, both masculine and feminine. It is a fear that has suppressed, exploited and distorted that which we both long for and feel overwhelmed by. As we grow into our potential, individually and collectively, we will begin to experience the divine power of sexuality as a meeting place across the divide of gender or race, where we are no longer afraid of ourselves or each other.
What will it take for both genders to decide to step side by side and own our masculine and feminine power as we join hands, and see ourselves in each other? What responsibility do we have as mothers, fathers, lovers, teachers, friends to allow men to be vulnerable and women to be strong? Is it time for us to collectively step beyond war, where we no longer attack or assault the “other” (gender/race/class/sexual orientation), but rather in a deep embrace of our own wounds, discover the “other’s” pain there too? As Rumi said, “out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing there is a field” … beyond submission, beyond blame, beyond war. I’ll meet you there.
Can we find the courage now to embrace our suppressed anger, but catch its energy as it moves outwards in blame or inwards in shame, and harness its power in a real and creative change that heals our wounds and redefines who we allow ourselves to be in this world today? Let us realise that we are powerful beyond measure and that only loving forgiveness and a willingness to go beyond this story of separation will allow us all, men and women to remember how to live with each other again.
Together in Aloneness
The abandoned one stands
defiant, stocky legs parted,
small feet planted, rooted, unmoving
immovable. Protector, defender,
miniature warrior in pigtails.
No sharper sword than a
clever mind.
Some scriptures say I should
let her go. Others offer ways
to heal her, wounded
that she is.
But I smile, knowing she’s far from broken,
this one.
She’ll let go of me,
instead, in an instant. When I choose, if I do,
to no longer use her protection
from a rawness of aloneness.
For now I choose just that,
and she sits with me
small again
child again.
Grateful for togetherness.
And we are wide eyed in
wonder at the infinite
expanse of aloneness
In togetherness.
Too vast to comprehend
like the night sky
the first time it’s truly seen
Dumbstruck, star struck
You and I, too, are like this:
Photons bouncing
back and forth
until we remember
We too are light
from every star
spinning together and alone
in space so empty it’s utterly full
The abandoned one stands
defiant, stocky legs parted,
small feet planted, rooted, unmoving
immovable. Protector, defender,
miniature warrior in pigtails.
No sharper sword than a
clever mind.
Some scriptures say I should
let her go. Others offer ways
to heal her, wounded
that she is.
But I smile, knowing she’s far from broken,
this one.
She’ll let go of me,
instead, in an instant. When I choose, if I do,
to no longer use her protection
from a rawness of aloneness.
For now I choose just that,
and she sits with me
small again
child again.
Grateful for togetherness.
And we are wide eyed in
wonder at the infinite
expanse of aloneness
In togetherness.
Too vast to comprehend
like the night sky
the first time it’s truly seen
Dumbstruck, star struck
You and I, too, are like this:
Photons bouncing
back and forth
until we remember
We too are light
from every star
spinning together and alone
in space so empty it’s utterly full
Trusting in Truth
My practice, now:
deny nothing
indulge nothing
know nothing
The space revealed is silvery, slippery
luminous in
limitless possibility
and infinite uncertainty.
Surrendering to trust
as it surrenders to truth
which laughs in the face of
love's seeming contradictions
I am beached
tousled
wide eyed
empty and
full
My practice, now:
deny nothing
indulge nothing
know nothing
The space revealed is silvery, slippery
luminous in
limitless possibility
and infinite uncertainty.
Surrendering to trust
as it surrenders to truth
which laughs in the face of
love's seeming contradictions
I am beached
tousled
wide eyed
empty and
full
The Thread of Love and Truth
There’s a thread you follow. It goes among
things that change. But it doesn’t change.
People wonder about what you are pursuing.
You have to explain about the thread.
But it is hard for others to see.
While you hold it you can’t get lost.
Tragedies happen; people get hurt
or die; and you suffer and get old.
Nothing you do can stop time’s unfolding.
You don’t ever let go of the thread.
~ William Stafford, from The Way It Is
There’s a thread that helps me navigate a pathless path through life, following an inner truth that can't yet always be seen from the inside, let alone the outside. If we don’t find our authentic thread, we tend to rely on an outer compass based on the cultural norms of success and safety, which often act to constrain, rather than liberate our potential.
I don't always know what it will look like in the world, but the thread for me is a commitment to know love and truth. To really understand them, not just as new age ideas. I've seen how much more complex each are, how many layers of relativity, reaction and projection each can hold. We can believe passionately in a truth only to discover it’s an illusion we’ve been holding on to. We can invest in ‘true love’, only to discover it’s an addiction or projection. Both serve to avoid feeling deeper discomforts, yet the entire dance is ultimately held in and expressed as love and truth alone.
This is where words can fail us. Like the Inuits needing 50 words for snow, there are a multitude of experiences that we apply to these terms, yet only one ultimate expression. The story of separation we collectively weave tells us that love exists in the person, animal, object or environment in whose presence we experience it. It suggests that truth is an idea that we adhere to or belong to, and is unshakable once established.
When I follow the thread of love and truth through the forest of my life, and look deeply at everything that appears real, I begin to see how much of my inner longings I am projecting outwardly onto the screen of life, seeing what I want to see above what is true. Rather than searching for its outer fulfilment, could it be that love exists as ourselves, with precious moments when the world holds up a mirror and we see our true face? Could it be that truth reveals itself, anew, moment by moment, and humility is our willingness to allow everything we thought we knew to crumble to the ground?
The Buddha spoke of five powers, or strengths, that we can draw on to help us stay close to our thread in life: trust, energy, mindfulness, serenity and wisdom. Each balances the other: when trust is not balanced by mindfulness it can make us gullible; when not balanced by wisdom we can fall into the trap of imagining belief is fact. Energy and mindfulness keep us awake and alert on the path, and serenity (a translation of Samadhi), is the still presence that makes this unfolding possible. The path for me is a moment to moment deep listening, neither turning away nor identifying with what appears. Knowing that I will do both many times, and that falling down and picking myself up is equally lovable and true.
There’s a thread you follow. It goes among
things that change. But it doesn’t change.
People wonder about what you are pursuing.
You have to explain about the thread.
But it is hard for others to see.
While you hold it you can’t get lost.
Tragedies happen; people get hurt
or die; and you suffer and get old.
Nothing you do can stop time’s unfolding.
You don’t ever let go of the thread.
~ William Stafford, from The Way It Is
There’s a thread that helps me navigate a pathless path through life, following an inner truth that can't yet always be seen from the inside, let alone the outside. If we don’t find our authentic thread, we tend to rely on an outer compass based on the cultural norms of success and safety, which often act to constrain, rather than liberate our potential.
I don't always know what it will look like in the world, but the thread for me is a commitment to know love and truth. To really understand them, not just as new age ideas. I've seen how much more complex each are, how many layers of relativity, reaction and projection each can hold. We can believe passionately in a truth only to discover it’s an illusion we’ve been holding on to. We can invest in ‘true love’, only to discover it’s an addiction or projection. Both serve to avoid feeling deeper discomforts, yet the entire dance is ultimately held in and expressed as love and truth alone.
This is where words can fail us. Like the Inuits needing 50 words for snow, there are a multitude of experiences that we apply to these terms, yet only one ultimate expression. The story of separation we collectively weave tells us that love exists in the person, animal, object or environment in whose presence we experience it. It suggests that truth is an idea that we adhere to or belong to, and is unshakable once established.
When I follow the thread of love and truth through the forest of my life, and look deeply at everything that appears real, I begin to see how much of my inner longings I am projecting outwardly onto the screen of life, seeing what I want to see above what is true. Rather than searching for its outer fulfilment, could it be that love exists as ourselves, with precious moments when the world holds up a mirror and we see our true face? Could it be that truth reveals itself, anew, moment by moment, and humility is our willingness to allow everything we thought we knew to crumble to the ground?
The Buddha spoke of five powers, or strengths, that we can draw on to help us stay close to our thread in life: trust, energy, mindfulness, serenity and wisdom. Each balances the other: when trust is not balanced by mindfulness it can make us gullible; when not balanced by wisdom we can fall into the trap of imagining belief is fact. Energy and mindfulness keep us awake and alert on the path, and serenity (a translation of Samadhi), is the still presence that makes this unfolding possible. The path for me is a moment to moment deep listening, neither turning away nor identifying with what appears. Knowing that I will do both many times, and that falling down and picking myself up is equally lovable and true.
Absence to Presence to Space
There are signposts
that point us
on a meandering path from
absence to presence to space.
When we enter a room,
there are so many times
so many ways
we’re simply not there.
Minds in future or past,
abstraction or fantasy,
blaming or shaming.
Everywhere but here.
The first signpost points us home:
to the chairs and scratched table,
loved possessions,
places unswept behind doors.
To our breath, aching knee,
gripped belly, strong spine,
heart broken
so many times it’s been caged.
There’s a crossroads, here.
A well trodden path of judging, comparing,
distracting, avoiding,
defining, fixing:
the path of the mind.
Or a path less travelled, a path of love.
Where we step into a room
with palms turned open,
not knowing, beholding.
Where we walk into a room
no longer absent,
no longer present only
to what we want to possess or discard.
Where we walk into a room
with eyes of a child,
where we walk into a room
and see the space.
There are signposts
that point us
on a meandering path from
absence to presence to space.
When we enter a room,
there are so many times
so many ways
we’re simply not there.
Minds in future or past,
abstraction or fantasy,
blaming or shaming.
Everywhere but here.
The first signpost points us home:
to the chairs and scratched table,
loved possessions,
places unswept behind doors.
To our breath, aching knee,
gripped belly, strong spine,
heart broken
so many times it’s been caged.
There’s a crossroads, here.
A well trodden path of judging, comparing,
distracting, avoiding,
defining, fixing:
the path of the mind.
Or a path less travelled, a path of love.
Where we step into a room
with palms turned open,
not knowing, beholding.
Where we walk into a room
no longer absent,
no longer present only
to what we want to possess or discard.
Where we walk into a room
with eyes of a child,
where we walk into a room
and see the space.
Space of the Mind
When we walk into a room, our attention is usually elsewhere. We might be thinking about something that happened in the past, something coming in the future: planning, worrying, fantasising.
It is said that the way we do anything is the way we do everything. So when we sit down to meditate, work, eat, love another being, it’s likely that our attention will do the same thing.
The first step in awakening is to shift from absence to presence: to come into this moment. Coming into the body acts as a powerful anchor to the present moment. Feeling sensations of breathing, feeling the ground, noticing sounds.
We learn how to walk into a room, and actually notice what’s in it.
When we continue to pay attention, the next thing we discover is how we tend to engage with this moment conditionally. We may notice a sensation, but quickly go into resisting it if it’s painful. We smell something we like, and then get lost in a revelry of wanting. We decide the room is no longer interesting, and wander off elsewhere again. Defending, demanding, distracting. Judging, comparing, fixing. We’re only really present to what we want to have or discard.
So our attention now widens to include these movements of mind too. We see this reactivity as yet more contents in the inner room of the mind, and we begin to let them be here without fixating on them. It’s like walking into a room, and no longer being absent, no longer seeing what’s here only through the lens of what we want or don’t want, but rather seeing the space of the room. Discovering that it’s the walls and the space inside the room, that hold the contents.
This is the space of awareness, which is a space of love because it includes everything unconditionally. Space isn’t judgmental, just as the ocean isn’t selective of the waves that move through it.
When we rest in the space of the room, our attention can shift from content to process. Rather than seeing only what’s here and what it can do for us, we see its character, its nature. Unshakable truths of reality reveal themselves to us. We discover that everything changes. That life is like a river, always flowing. It’s impossible to hold on to any one thing and call it solid, fixed, me or mine, before it changes in front of our eyes. We experience how each time we attempt to do this, we suffer. Each time we hold on to an idea, belief, identity, possession or person, we suffer the pain of loss, change and disappointment. Reality hits us in the face, but we cling on more desperately and close our eyes.
The root of war and separation.
If we have the courage to open our eyes, let go enough to fall back into the ocean, surrender into space, we discover that we are held in an unexpected way. The love, satisfaction, freedom and joy we were searching for as we juggled contents in the room, is already right here in the space. We can rest in the space and marvel at all that moves through it, as we too move the love that we are in our own unique and creative way.
When we walk into a room, our attention is usually elsewhere. We might be thinking about something that happened in the past, something coming in the future: planning, worrying, fantasising.
It is said that the way we do anything is the way we do everything. So when we sit down to meditate, work, eat, love another being, it’s likely that our attention will do the same thing.
The first step in awakening is to shift from absence to presence: to come into this moment. Coming into the body acts as a powerful anchor to the present moment. Feeling sensations of breathing, feeling the ground, noticing sounds.
We learn how to walk into a room, and actually notice what’s in it.
When we continue to pay attention, the next thing we discover is how we tend to engage with this moment conditionally. We may notice a sensation, but quickly go into resisting it if it’s painful. We smell something we like, and then get lost in a revelry of wanting. We decide the room is no longer interesting, and wander off elsewhere again. Defending, demanding, distracting. Judging, comparing, fixing. We’re only really present to what we want to have or discard.
So our attention now widens to include these movements of mind too. We see this reactivity as yet more contents in the inner room of the mind, and we begin to let them be here without fixating on them. It’s like walking into a room, and no longer being absent, no longer seeing what’s here only through the lens of what we want or don’t want, but rather seeing the space of the room. Discovering that it’s the walls and the space inside the room, that hold the contents.
This is the space of awareness, which is a space of love because it includes everything unconditionally. Space isn’t judgmental, just as the ocean isn’t selective of the waves that move through it.
When we rest in the space of the room, our attention can shift from content to process. Rather than seeing only what’s here and what it can do for us, we see its character, its nature. Unshakable truths of reality reveal themselves to us. We discover that everything changes. That life is like a river, always flowing. It’s impossible to hold on to any one thing and call it solid, fixed, me or mine, before it changes in front of our eyes. We experience how each time we attempt to do this, we suffer. Each time we hold on to an idea, belief, identity, possession or person, we suffer the pain of loss, change and disappointment. Reality hits us in the face, but we cling on more desperately and close our eyes.
The root of war and separation.
If we have the courage to open our eyes, let go enough to fall back into the ocean, surrender into space, we discover that we are held in an unexpected way. The love, satisfaction, freedom and joy we were searching for as we juggled contents in the room, is already right here in the space. We can rest in the space and marvel at all that moves through it, as we too move the love that we are in our own unique and creative way.
Swinging Door
I see how I move between the two faces of love, one conditional, the other unconditioned.
Like a swinging door, I see this face… then this one.
And as love surges more strongly through my body, as love’s recognition grows and catches sight of itself,
so too does longing and pain: wounds revealing themselves to the light.
Remember, beloved, remember who you are.
When you are lost and the struggle feels like the only truth, remember the swinging door.
Remember the vastness the door swings within, the space, joy.
“Let go”, the hinges whisper, “Don’t try so hard.”
Stop, listen… that’s the sound of life on the breeze, and you are the breeze.
Trust in this now, this perfection moving through you as it breaks your heart.
Things only break open, never closed.
Remember who you are.
I see how I move between the two faces of love, one conditional, the other unconditioned.
Like a swinging door, I see this face… then this one.
And as love surges more strongly through my body, as love’s recognition grows and catches sight of itself,
so too does longing and pain: wounds revealing themselves to the light.
Remember, beloved, remember who you are.
When you are lost and the struggle feels like the only truth, remember the swinging door.
Remember the vastness the door swings within, the space, joy.
“Let go”, the hinges whisper, “Don’t try so hard.”
Stop, listen… that’s the sound of life on the breeze, and you are the breeze.
Trust in this now, this perfection moving through you as it breaks your heart.
Things only break open, never closed.
Remember who you are.
Self love and Relationship
We usually think of relationship as existing only ‘out there’, a fairy-tale ideal of the friend, lover, mother or father who is able to see, attune to and hold every piece of our being. Because this longing to be completed from the outside is ultimately unattainable, it can lead unconsciously to viewing others through a distorted lens of what we want from them. This closes us off from truly seeing the person in front of us. What we normally see instead is the validation that we’re not getting what we need, and the familiar dance of longing and blame that we call ‘relationship’ begins.
These are times when deep wounds are calling out to be healed, yet deeper protective mechanisms are still in place which deny their existence. We are running away from ourselves, holding unspoken expectations that others don’t trigger these wounds as well. We end up blaming them, criticising them, wanting to fix or improve them where they don’t meet our expectations.
I have come to see that no one can hold me the way I long to be held, attune to me the way I long to be attuned to… other than myself. And when I finally stop running from the abandoned parts of myself, I am freed, finally, to see the same wounding in others. I am freed to see others without the lens of what I need or want from them. To see their uniqueness, divinity and brokenness, just like mine. To love without blaming, and to allow myself to be loved, without shame.
So it’s a journey that begins by spiralling inward in order to touch others outwardly. The practice begins with meeting unmet parts of this precious body, heart and mind with tenderness. Providing safe passage for the inner clamour to move through us. It leads us to the discovery that this holding is love itself, and that no-one and nothing is outside of its reach. We begin to land in the extraordinary possibility of all of life being held in love, all of life being love. So that even the human heart’s failure to love unconditionally is welcome here, unconditionally.
Relationship, then, is so much more than the pleasure or strife we find through partner or parent! These are often powerful portals through which we understand love, if we choose to. The liberating insights arise through self reflection, a willingness to feel, and deep somatic integration. The body expresses everything in heart and mind: an inner orientation of closing off from the world and taking from it what we want will be reflected outwardly in our bodies. Which implies that a re-orientating towards opening to the truth of what is here, and wholeheartedly offering ourselves up to this moment, can also be cultivated through our bodies. When we practice yoga with this awareness, we bring together body, mind, heart and intention with a power that can transform. The world needs this transformation.
We usually think of relationship as existing only ‘out there’, a fairy-tale ideal of the friend, lover, mother or father who is able to see, attune to and hold every piece of our being. Because this longing to be completed from the outside is ultimately unattainable, it can lead unconsciously to viewing others through a distorted lens of what we want from them. This closes us off from truly seeing the person in front of us. What we normally see instead is the validation that we’re not getting what we need, and the familiar dance of longing and blame that we call ‘relationship’ begins.
These are times when deep wounds are calling out to be healed, yet deeper protective mechanisms are still in place which deny their existence. We are running away from ourselves, holding unspoken expectations that others don’t trigger these wounds as well. We end up blaming them, criticising them, wanting to fix or improve them where they don’t meet our expectations.
I have come to see that no one can hold me the way I long to be held, attune to me the way I long to be attuned to… other than myself. And when I finally stop running from the abandoned parts of myself, I am freed, finally, to see the same wounding in others. I am freed to see others without the lens of what I need or want from them. To see their uniqueness, divinity and brokenness, just like mine. To love without blaming, and to allow myself to be loved, without shame.
So it’s a journey that begins by spiralling inward in order to touch others outwardly. The practice begins with meeting unmet parts of this precious body, heart and mind with tenderness. Providing safe passage for the inner clamour to move through us. It leads us to the discovery that this holding is love itself, and that no-one and nothing is outside of its reach. We begin to land in the extraordinary possibility of all of life being held in love, all of life being love. So that even the human heart’s failure to love unconditionally is welcome here, unconditionally.
Relationship, then, is so much more than the pleasure or strife we find through partner or parent! These are often powerful portals through which we understand love, if we choose to. The liberating insights arise through self reflection, a willingness to feel, and deep somatic integration. The body expresses everything in heart and mind: an inner orientation of closing off from the world and taking from it what we want will be reflected outwardly in our bodies. Which implies that a re-orientating towards opening to the truth of what is here, and wholeheartedly offering ourselves up to this moment, can also be cultivated through our bodies. When we practice yoga with this awareness, we bring together body, mind, heart and intention with a power that can transform. The world needs this transformation.
Yoga as a Mindfulness Practice
Yoga and Mindfulness are both practices that have entered mainstream recognition in the West in a relatively short space of time. Although both are widely practised in a secular context, many would argue that the mainstream secularisation of yoga in particular has alienated this ancient tradition from its roots as a practice of liberation. I would like to explore the relationship between the practices of mindfulness and yoga, and the potential benefits each can offer on a journey towards awakening. ‘Awakening’ and ‘liberation’ can be understood paths that lead us towards experiencing, and ultimately resting in, our essential human nature. When the qualities of our essential nature are revealed, they are experienced as non-personal and non-conceptual: as embodied attributes of Being. For this reason, any practices that guide us towards such an experiencing need to first cultivate our capacity for receptivity and reflection: a listening in to Truth rather than a mental searching for it.
What is the difference between thought and reflection?
Imagine a deep pond, and imagine that this pond represents yourself. Imagine that the surface of the water is at the level of your eyes, so that the waves and ripples represent the whirling of your own mind. Every thought sending out a new ripple, which when followed and fed, swells and grows. The more energy invested in the surface, the greater the storm becomes. Now add a little dust and debris to the surface, for your clouded presence. Add some sticky gunk from the debris of past relationships. A little paint splattered around from your years of conditioning. Is it any wonder that we struggle to see ourselves clearly when we remain at the surface?
Reflection requires receptivity. We sink deeper into the depths of our pond, and listen. What arises appears to be reflected against the mirrors of our consciousness, so that understanding reveals itself, and is no longer sought for. We discover an unshakeable knowing that arises from the actual experiencing of our true nature. No knower, no surface, and no thought, involved.
What is Mindfulness?
Mindfulness is a practice that draws us back into our pond, to a place of receptivity. We practise remaining attentive and open to all that arises, attending to whatever appears with a radiant and supple clarity. Mindfulness creates a stillness that is dynamic. It is un-conflicted movement, life in harmony with itself. It can be experienced whenever there is total, uninhibited, un-conflicted participation in the moment we are in. When we are wholeheartedly present with whatever we are doing, with nothing added and nothing held back.
In this way we practise an honest experiencing of both our inner processing, and of the universe as it moves through us. We refine our capacity to notice our tendencies, before we crystalize around them and call them “me”. We become familiar with the thought-waves of our minds, appreciating that their nature is to roam and explore, but withholding from feeding our neuroses or taking any thought as an absolute truth. Similarly, we befriend the currents of our emotions, and through this intimacy move away from a habitual and reactive response to them. As we let emotions move through us and study their nature, we discover that they can guide us back to a more fundamental experience of wholeness. If we return to the metaphor of the pond, where thoughts are represented by waves and emotions by currents, we can see that our essential nature is represented by the water itself. A mindfulness practice is a powerful tool to re-align our attention from the turbulence of surface waves to an experiencing of the very fabric of life itself.
What is Yoga?
Within the context of mindfulness practice, yoga is often given a passing nod as a useful ‘mindful movement’ practice. It is generally appreciated in the same vein as perhaps a walking meditation or mindful stretching, as a practice that cultivates an awareness of body in movement and stillness. There is sometimes also an appreciation of the heightened qualities of grounded-ness, alertness, openness and ease in posture after a yoga practice, but again these are most often seen as a useful preparation for the real practice of seated meditation which can then commence. I would like to look in a little more detail at these two attributes of yoga, but also explore the deeper possibility of yoga as a mindfulness practice itself.
Yoga as Mindful Movement
Everything we experience, we do so through the body. Since awakening is a form of non-conceptual knowing, everything we know must be known through the body. In our thinking-dominant culture, bodily experience is very alien to many people. For most, the possibility of moving their body in a non-aggressive way while linking their breathing and attention with these physical movements is a radical and important first step. There seem to be two main avenues to access yoga as mindful movement. One is the steady linking of breathing and movement in such a way as to support an experiencing of ourselves as a harmonised ‘breathing body’. As the thinking mind begins to surrender into this container and our body moves into our awareness, we experience ourselves as more embodied and present.
Another way is to harness the intelligence of the mind to direct focussed attention to parts of the body in both movement and stillness. We cultivate from the gross to the subtle: initially from the placement of arms and legs, eventually to the directionality of the skin. B.K.S. Iyengar calls this ‘the intelligence of the body’: the capacity to spread our attention equally across all parts of our body simultaneously. At the same time, we observe how we respond to our moment-to-moment experience as it unfolds. We notice where we are reactively pushing through or backing away from difficulty, and cultivate a widening of presence that can welcome all experiences. In these ways, yoga can be seen to have similar benefits to body-based mindfulness practices, namely a deeper, more tangible and more refined experience of present moment embodiment.
Yoga as Enhancement Practice
As well as cultivating a kind, yet sharp observance, yoga is also an enhancement practice of the body heart and mind. Yogic cosmology describes existence as a dance between three layers or sheaths of expression: the ever-changing physical realm; the subtle realm including energy, mind and consciousness, which though formless has a direct impact on form; and the dimension of pure potential energy, or spirit. By working on any layer, we access any other. So by breaking up congealed patterns in the physical body, the subtle energy body can flow more freely, which in turn directly influences how we feel physically, emotionally and mentally. We have greater clarity, presence, energy and discernment available to us. In this way, yoga can be seen as a practice where we work skilfully in the body to set up conditions that are more conducive to the deeper explorations of meditation.
Yoga as Mindfulness
Just as we can use the physical realm as a doorway into the realm of energy, mind and consciousness, we can also access the realm of pure potentiality through the doorway of the body. In other words, we can access our essential nature through an embodied experiencing of it. A.H. Almaas eloquently describes the aspects of our ‘Essence’ to include qualities such as Love, Peace, Truth, Value, Strength and Will: all inherent, non-personal, non-conceptual qualities that are part of our nature. These can be experienced as such by harnessing our mind and awareness, but can also be accessed through the doorway of our body.
Our own personal history results in patterns of holding of body, mind and heart that act to conceal our deeper nature. By bringing these places of holding into the light of awareness we begin to dissolve the veils that obscure our wholeness. In yoga, we actively spread our attention: often from the parts of our body in contact with the ground, to the parts which are weak or dull, until we create a unified extension of energy and presence. This can create a physical experience that is the embodiment of spaciousness and strength. By liberating our energy body, and observing the whole of ourselves, we experience a quality of Strength that is innate to our nature.
Similarly, a deeper experience of Peace, not dependent on external conditions, can reveal itself through the precise and unified organisation of the body. As Iyengar puts it, “when the muscles and joints are rested in their positions, the body, senses and mind lose their identities and consciousness shines in its purity.”
Yoga can also offer us a very tangible way to experience beyond our self-imposed limitations, often determined by inertia, to reveal the stirrings of deeper longings. Since the physical body holds much of the stagnation of heart and mind, it can be a powerful doorway into accessing this aspect of Will. In other words, the body can be another avenue through which we taste the truth of our potential for vitality, intimacy and aliveness, and as such a great motivator for this burning desire for union within us.
A deeper experiencing of Love is also integral to yoga, as we practice welcoming each new sensation and reaction in an ever deepening intimacy with ourselves. One of the foundational principles of Patanjali’s eight-fold path of yoga is Isvarapranidhana: surrendering the fruits of our actions to God. The effort and intention of our practice is put in place, but then each asana becomes a prayer, an offering up to the mystery of Being. The space of the heart receives this mystery with gratitude. Opening to the unknown nature of experience can help loosen the mind’s controlling grip, and liberate the heart’s tenderness.
Love supports us and builds courage when we are called upon to be vulnerable, to surrender and to trust. One of the benefits of a multifaceted approach involving both yoga and meditation (as well as nature, poetry, dancing and many more) as mindfulness practices, is that we build this courage as we experience our deeper knowing through different doorways of perception, and in different ways. A danger of any of these practices is when they become an end unto themselves and we lose the perspective of the truth that they are pointing us towards. We can all too easily begin to identify with ourselves as good meditators or good yogis, and forget that each moment and every practice can instead be utilised as tools to reveal a deeper truth. For these truths to be known and embodied as more than experiences that we associate with certain practices or altered states, we also need to maintain an intimate participation with whatever we experience. This participation includes questioning, inquiry and study, so that the insights can be embedded into body mind and heart.
For me, the best indicator of the efficacy of my practices is the way that I inhabit myself in daily life. This often reveals the extent to which I feel separate; the extent to which I respond to my thoughts or emotions as ultimate truths. Inseparable from any experiencing of my essential nature is a deep knowing that this experience is not restricted to me alone, and not able to be fully defined by the conceptual mind. If we return once more to the metaphor of the pond: when we rest with love, with mindfulness, with receptivity, in the depths of our pond, the truth of our nature is revealed to us, and we discover that what we thought to be “our” pond, and “our” experience, is no longer isolated to us alone. Instead the pond reveals itself to be a vast ocean, out of whose depths all experience arises. Each wave may have its different tone, quality and expression, but each wave, every sentient being, is moved by the same current. In the silences between thoughts, emotions or sensations, we rest in the enormity of the ocean. We are this experience of the universe in this moment, ever changing, ever evolving; dependently arising, dependently falling. No more, no less.
We live in illusion
And the appearance of things
There is a reality
You are that reality
When you understand this
You will see that you are nothing
And in being nothing
You are everything
This is all
Kalu Rinpoche
Yoga and Mindfulness are both practices that have entered mainstream recognition in the West in a relatively short space of time. Although both are widely practised in a secular context, many would argue that the mainstream secularisation of yoga in particular has alienated this ancient tradition from its roots as a practice of liberation. I would like to explore the relationship between the practices of mindfulness and yoga, and the potential benefits each can offer on a journey towards awakening. ‘Awakening’ and ‘liberation’ can be understood paths that lead us towards experiencing, and ultimately resting in, our essential human nature. When the qualities of our essential nature are revealed, they are experienced as non-personal and non-conceptual: as embodied attributes of Being. For this reason, any practices that guide us towards such an experiencing need to first cultivate our capacity for receptivity and reflection: a listening in to Truth rather than a mental searching for it.
What is the difference between thought and reflection?
Imagine a deep pond, and imagine that this pond represents yourself. Imagine that the surface of the water is at the level of your eyes, so that the waves and ripples represent the whirling of your own mind. Every thought sending out a new ripple, which when followed and fed, swells and grows. The more energy invested in the surface, the greater the storm becomes. Now add a little dust and debris to the surface, for your clouded presence. Add some sticky gunk from the debris of past relationships. A little paint splattered around from your years of conditioning. Is it any wonder that we struggle to see ourselves clearly when we remain at the surface?
Reflection requires receptivity. We sink deeper into the depths of our pond, and listen. What arises appears to be reflected against the mirrors of our consciousness, so that understanding reveals itself, and is no longer sought for. We discover an unshakeable knowing that arises from the actual experiencing of our true nature. No knower, no surface, and no thought, involved.
What is Mindfulness?
Mindfulness is a practice that draws us back into our pond, to a place of receptivity. We practise remaining attentive and open to all that arises, attending to whatever appears with a radiant and supple clarity. Mindfulness creates a stillness that is dynamic. It is un-conflicted movement, life in harmony with itself. It can be experienced whenever there is total, uninhibited, un-conflicted participation in the moment we are in. When we are wholeheartedly present with whatever we are doing, with nothing added and nothing held back.
In this way we practise an honest experiencing of both our inner processing, and of the universe as it moves through us. We refine our capacity to notice our tendencies, before we crystalize around them and call them “me”. We become familiar with the thought-waves of our minds, appreciating that their nature is to roam and explore, but withholding from feeding our neuroses or taking any thought as an absolute truth. Similarly, we befriend the currents of our emotions, and through this intimacy move away from a habitual and reactive response to them. As we let emotions move through us and study their nature, we discover that they can guide us back to a more fundamental experience of wholeness. If we return to the metaphor of the pond, where thoughts are represented by waves and emotions by currents, we can see that our essential nature is represented by the water itself. A mindfulness practice is a powerful tool to re-align our attention from the turbulence of surface waves to an experiencing of the very fabric of life itself.
What is Yoga?
Within the context of mindfulness practice, yoga is often given a passing nod as a useful ‘mindful movement’ practice. It is generally appreciated in the same vein as perhaps a walking meditation or mindful stretching, as a practice that cultivates an awareness of body in movement and stillness. There is sometimes also an appreciation of the heightened qualities of grounded-ness, alertness, openness and ease in posture after a yoga practice, but again these are most often seen as a useful preparation for the real practice of seated meditation which can then commence. I would like to look in a little more detail at these two attributes of yoga, but also explore the deeper possibility of yoga as a mindfulness practice itself.
Yoga as Mindful Movement
Everything we experience, we do so through the body. Since awakening is a form of non-conceptual knowing, everything we know must be known through the body. In our thinking-dominant culture, bodily experience is very alien to many people. For most, the possibility of moving their body in a non-aggressive way while linking their breathing and attention with these physical movements is a radical and important first step. There seem to be two main avenues to access yoga as mindful movement. One is the steady linking of breathing and movement in such a way as to support an experiencing of ourselves as a harmonised ‘breathing body’. As the thinking mind begins to surrender into this container and our body moves into our awareness, we experience ourselves as more embodied and present.
Another way is to harness the intelligence of the mind to direct focussed attention to parts of the body in both movement and stillness. We cultivate from the gross to the subtle: initially from the placement of arms and legs, eventually to the directionality of the skin. B.K.S. Iyengar calls this ‘the intelligence of the body’: the capacity to spread our attention equally across all parts of our body simultaneously. At the same time, we observe how we respond to our moment-to-moment experience as it unfolds. We notice where we are reactively pushing through or backing away from difficulty, and cultivate a widening of presence that can welcome all experiences. In these ways, yoga can be seen to have similar benefits to body-based mindfulness practices, namely a deeper, more tangible and more refined experience of present moment embodiment.
Yoga as Enhancement Practice
As well as cultivating a kind, yet sharp observance, yoga is also an enhancement practice of the body heart and mind. Yogic cosmology describes existence as a dance between three layers or sheaths of expression: the ever-changing physical realm; the subtle realm including energy, mind and consciousness, which though formless has a direct impact on form; and the dimension of pure potential energy, or spirit. By working on any layer, we access any other. So by breaking up congealed patterns in the physical body, the subtle energy body can flow more freely, which in turn directly influences how we feel physically, emotionally and mentally. We have greater clarity, presence, energy and discernment available to us. In this way, yoga can be seen as a practice where we work skilfully in the body to set up conditions that are more conducive to the deeper explorations of meditation.
Yoga as Mindfulness
Just as we can use the physical realm as a doorway into the realm of energy, mind and consciousness, we can also access the realm of pure potentiality through the doorway of the body. In other words, we can access our essential nature through an embodied experiencing of it. A.H. Almaas eloquently describes the aspects of our ‘Essence’ to include qualities such as Love, Peace, Truth, Value, Strength and Will: all inherent, non-personal, non-conceptual qualities that are part of our nature. These can be experienced as such by harnessing our mind and awareness, but can also be accessed through the doorway of our body.
Our own personal history results in patterns of holding of body, mind and heart that act to conceal our deeper nature. By bringing these places of holding into the light of awareness we begin to dissolve the veils that obscure our wholeness. In yoga, we actively spread our attention: often from the parts of our body in contact with the ground, to the parts which are weak or dull, until we create a unified extension of energy and presence. This can create a physical experience that is the embodiment of spaciousness and strength. By liberating our energy body, and observing the whole of ourselves, we experience a quality of Strength that is innate to our nature.
Similarly, a deeper experience of Peace, not dependent on external conditions, can reveal itself through the precise and unified organisation of the body. As Iyengar puts it, “when the muscles and joints are rested in their positions, the body, senses and mind lose their identities and consciousness shines in its purity.”
Yoga can also offer us a very tangible way to experience beyond our self-imposed limitations, often determined by inertia, to reveal the stirrings of deeper longings. Since the physical body holds much of the stagnation of heart and mind, it can be a powerful doorway into accessing this aspect of Will. In other words, the body can be another avenue through which we taste the truth of our potential for vitality, intimacy and aliveness, and as such a great motivator for this burning desire for union within us.
A deeper experiencing of Love is also integral to yoga, as we practice welcoming each new sensation and reaction in an ever deepening intimacy with ourselves. One of the foundational principles of Patanjali’s eight-fold path of yoga is Isvarapranidhana: surrendering the fruits of our actions to God. The effort and intention of our practice is put in place, but then each asana becomes a prayer, an offering up to the mystery of Being. The space of the heart receives this mystery with gratitude. Opening to the unknown nature of experience can help loosen the mind’s controlling grip, and liberate the heart’s tenderness.
Love supports us and builds courage when we are called upon to be vulnerable, to surrender and to trust. One of the benefits of a multifaceted approach involving both yoga and meditation (as well as nature, poetry, dancing and many more) as mindfulness practices, is that we build this courage as we experience our deeper knowing through different doorways of perception, and in different ways. A danger of any of these practices is when they become an end unto themselves and we lose the perspective of the truth that they are pointing us towards. We can all too easily begin to identify with ourselves as good meditators or good yogis, and forget that each moment and every practice can instead be utilised as tools to reveal a deeper truth. For these truths to be known and embodied as more than experiences that we associate with certain practices or altered states, we also need to maintain an intimate participation with whatever we experience. This participation includes questioning, inquiry and study, so that the insights can be embedded into body mind and heart.
For me, the best indicator of the efficacy of my practices is the way that I inhabit myself in daily life. This often reveals the extent to which I feel separate; the extent to which I respond to my thoughts or emotions as ultimate truths. Inseparable from any experiencing of my essential nature is a deep knowing that this experience is not restricted to me alone, and not able to be fully defined by the conceptual mind. If we return once more to the metaphor of the pond: when we rest with love, with mindfulness, with receptivity, in the depths of our pond, the truth of our nature is revealed to us, and we discover that what we thought to be “our” pond, and “our” experience, is no longer isolated to us alone. Instead the pond reveals itself to be a vast ocean, out of whose depths all experience arises. Each wave may have its different tone, quality and expression, but each wave, every sentient being, is moved by the same current. In the silences between thoughts, emotions or sensations, we rest in the enormity of the ocean. We are this experience of the universe in this moment, ever changing, ever evolving; dependently arising, dependently falling. No more, no less.
We live in illusion
And the appearance of things
There is a reality
You are that reality
When you understand this
You will see that you are nothing
And in being nothing
You are everything
This is all
Kalu Rinpoche