Tag: writing

She

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You have to grow from the inside out. None can teach you, none can make you spiritual. There is no other teacher but your own soul ~ Swami Vivekananda

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How well do you know your soul, how often do you stop and listen to your true spirit and know that it speaks the truth, has you best interests at heart.  It’s taken me a long time to get to a point in which I think I’m getting to know the true me, the eternal soul that I am, outside of my physical self.

I invite her into the room sometimes to sit with me, I call her and she comes.  She has become a friend and confident, she listens and guides me and it’s always in the right direction.   If I truly open up to what I think my soul is telling me, I’m usually right because it comes from my heart centre and not through any logical thinking.  Not that it is always the direction I want to go in, but usually where I’m meant to be.  Sometimes through difficulties that propel me forward and sometimes through experiences that encourage growth.  Whatever, when I look back I can’t see that I have been pointed in the wrong direction.  That’s not to say that I haven’t made mistakes, ignored her and made up my own mind, but I suppose that was another lesson I needed to learn.

She is eternal, she has been around forever, long before she joined me on this journey here, she is magnificent.  Why would I not trust her, she knows the answers that I seek, she has lived the experiences that I live now and she has more love inside of her than  I could ever imagine.

All I have to do to connect with her is put any thought out of mind, close my eyes, connect to the stillness and see what comes up for me in this place.

Give it a go and let me know if you meet her.

Love Listens

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Listen while I’m silent and show me that you know

Watch me very closely, don’t let the small things go

My actions tell my stories, they’ll tell you of my grief

My truth is what I hold inside but only love can see

I’m muddled and confused, my thoughts are over there

If only you could sort them out, you’d do it if you care

I smile outside of you and me, I put on a good face

At other times I cry a lot, I shout, I scream, I pace

I am a lot of tiny bits, that haven’t got a place

Look into my eyes and see, they go beyond my face

Give me time and give me love, sit with me a while

I think that it is maybe you that can really find my smile

 

Racism

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Palpable tension here in the room

It will have to break and hopefully soon

The air thick with anger, you can hear a pin drop

It’s ugly and maddening, I do hope it stops.

I head for the door to get our of this place

One step at a time, they’re still talking race

The crowd is thickening, the mob is not right

I run from the room and into the night

I can’t stand this anger, all over the place

The yobs have come out and they’re a disgrace

Get off your high horses, get yourselves in control

The country needs peace, that’s not how to roll

There’s no room for racism, it’s ignorant see

Not in my name, it could never be me

We’re all human beings, under one sky

I despair at your hate, I have to ask why?

Do you feel your superior, is that the truth

Did your parents tell you, was it under your roof

Or was it from school, where true bullies grow

Beware what you put out, the things that you sow

Felicity’s Flowers

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Felicity was a simple woman, the simpleness of her manner, the simplicity of her dress and the ease of her movement told you so. Yet she had great clarity, she had an intuition that was beyond this world a clarity so powerful that she had no need to worry as others might, she just enjoyed the simplicity of life and waited.

Felicity knew where she was going and she knew why she was here and that was enough, that was all that she needed. She did what she wanted in life, she sold flowers and painted. She didn’t involve herself in elaborate bouquets for weddings and other such functions, just bunches of wild meadow flowers she grew in her garden and collected from the fields and hedgerows around the village. Her paintings of nature, flowers and sunsets were a reflection of her beautiful mind, Felicity dealt in beauty.

Felicity also made healing teas and creams, she studied the flowers and nettles and treated those who asked. Felicity wasn’t a sales woman, she never put out her wares, people just came when they heard about her. This was usually after seeing a painting hanging elsewhere, a floral display at an event or heard of a miraculous recovery.

Felicity never promoted herself but knew without doubt she would be okay, she would be looked after. When money was needed to pay a bill or mend the roof, so an order would come in or there would be a knock at the door. She didn’t have a computer or telephone, she hadn’t heard of social media or its purpose but life was okay. Felicity didn’t crave riches, she didn’t want to be cold and hungry but at the same time didn’t wish for anything beyond her simple means.

Felicity did not see beauty in material things, she didn’t need high fashion, state of the art gadgets or a bigger and smarter home. She didn’t see beauty in anything else apart from the world around her and because of this she was beautiful beyond wealth and status.

Felicity enjoyed listening to music, she loved the opera her favourite piece from La Wally, although she didn’t have anything but an old record player to listen to and this was enough. She found music in life, the sound of dawn breaking, the sound of the rain hitting the trees and the sound she found in stillness.

People felt very drawn to Felicity, they wanted to be in her company, listen to her and ask her opinions on their own lives. Felicity did not profess to know the future but she was always right. Felicity was a healer through her words as well as any potions, maybe more so. She instilled peace and contentment in others by helping them see their own lives through her eyes. The worried, worried less, the lonely felt comforted and thought about and the grieving felt closer to their loved ones sitting in her company.

Felicity knew and waited for life to unfold and everybody who knew her waited with her trusting in her beautiful soul.

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Pond of Life

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Swim out of your little pond ~ Rumi

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Wouldn’t it be easy if we could just float through life. Can you imagine if everything was clear, we knew where we were going, how to get there and what would happen next.

On the surface it seams simple, but there are always the things beneath and around us that pull us this way and that, the currents that knock us off course for a while. These can be our experiences, the ones that mould us, some forgotten or buried and some crashing around us at any moment.

We are deeper than we appear on the surface, with depths that can be murky. Sometimes we just have to wade through sludge to get to where we want to be and sometimes it’s just plain sailing.

The most important thing is we have inside of us, the ability and strength of spirit to make anything possible, we just have to keep afloat.

Bring the sky beneath your feet and listen to celestial music everywhere ~ Rumi

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My Prophecy

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Oh my friend, if you are longing to be written on, become a blank page ~ Rumi

I’m not sure if I am a prophet, probably not although I have always been very psychic.  I can tell what people are thinking when I’m in their company and know instantly what people think about me.  I’m very open so I think I scare people initially and they have difficulty trusting me, especially if they are closed themselves.

I’ve had dreams that have come true on occasion too, like the night my friends father died.  I didn’t know about this but in the middle of the night I dreamt that I was standing with her on the estate that we grew up on cuddling her as she broke down.  The next morning I telephoned mum who still lived on that estate fifty odd miles away and she had exactly the same dream!  It wasn’t long after I received a call to say my friends father had passed over and it wasn’t much longer before I was cuddling her for real.

Mum and I often linked into each other, for example knowing she was on the other end of the phone or one of us getting the urge to telephone the other when things were bad.  We were very close but we seemed to know what the other was thinking.  It’s funny but not strange that I still hear her talking to me now a year and a half after her death.

As a child I was probably far more psychic or weird, whichever way you look at it.  I had an invisible friend, I’ve written about her on here before and I used to tell the future without knowing what I was doing.  I fancied myself as a gipsy and read the tea leaves and cards as a very young child.  Then the kids on the estate thought it would be funny to put grass down my back whilst chanting ‘burn the witch’ and I stopped being different and conformed.  I was a sheep for quite a few years after that although always had a fascination with anything esoteric.

I’m weird again now, I’ve reached an age where I’m comfortable with myself and don’t care what people think (that’s a lie, I really want to be liked).   I collect crystals, read the cards, talk to the dead and delve into all sorts of weird and wonderful things.  I’ve had a past life regression and attended all sorts of healing and energy workshops.  There’s no stopping me now, I think there is far more to heaven and earth than we will ever understand.

I think we all have the potential to be psychic, to tune into other realms if only we stopped and listened.  How ever far fetched, weird or wonderful our instincts are, they are there to give us glimpses of possibilities and help us along the way.  Have you ever known that however bad something seemed at the time, it would work out.  I bet it did if it was meant to be and I bet it was beautiful.

I’m not sure if we should foretell the future, perhaps it’s best left to unfold as it should, but for this post and for fun here is my prophecy   and you can tell me if I’m a prophet or not!

Everything is going to be okay, you will get to where you are meant to be.  

The challenges that you face are your lessons and they have been waiting to greet you.  These challenges are part of your pathway in life and they will take you to the next level of your spiritual development.  Which ever path brought you to where you are now is the right path and the people you have met on the way, whatever your memories of them are the people that have helped you to recognise your true self, they were always meant to be.  Accept your life for all its ups and downs and know that it is precious as you are.

Life is eternal and so are you, so be your magnificent self and dance your way along the path.

We all see the same sun and moon, wherever we are, they connect us and we can never be alone when we look at them. 

The number twenty three is important, I don’t know why but I keep seeing it all the time, are you seeing it too?

The answer to your question is love…

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Ravaged by Storms

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 Sorrow prepares you for joy.  It violently sweeps everything out of your house, so that new joy can find space to enter.  It shakes the yellow leaves from the bough of your heart, so that fresh, green leaves can grow in their place.  It pulls up rotten roots, so that new roots hidden beneath have room to grow.  Whatever sorrow shakes from your heart, far better things will take their place –    Rumi

I believe in this quote from Rumi the 13th-century Persian poet and Sufi mystic.  I believe as it helps me face my challenges head on, it helps me survive obstacles that can sometimes feel insurmountable.  I don’t welcome challenges but I accept them, I acknowledge them and let them sit with me until they pass through.  Only then can I see and feel what they have left in their wake, only then can I begin to understand them and build from them.   I think of myself as a tree ravaged by the winter storms, uncovered and naked only to be clothed again in spring as I begin again with the warmth of a new day.

Embarrassing Moments

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What is the most embarrassing thing that has happened to me, now let me think.

Was it when my little boy going through the subway stopped to tell the guard he was five really and only pretending to be four to travel free.  Or was it when the same little angel stood up on a bus in a culturally diverse area of town and told most of the passengers they should be in Africa after watching Sesame Street.   I have never let him forget either of these embarrassing moments, not that I think he really cares.  Thats the beauty of kids, they are brilliant with their honest approach to life, they say what they feel and don’t consider the consequences.

Another embarrassing memory is the time my best friend asked me to smell some perfume in a shop, I did and told her it smelt like cats pee only to find it nicely wrapped up on the table when we got home.  That we are still friends nearly 40 years later is a mystery.  I used to get embarrassed lots when I was younger, I always appeared to be putting my foot in it in one way or another.   I will never forget the feeling of those red cheeks when the boy I liked looked my way, I could feel it creeping up and there was no stopping the flush of fancy!

I can’t think of what might embarrass me now, I don’t blush anymore and if I’m honest I don’t really get embarrassed.  I laugh out loud a lot when I make mistakes, I turn myself into a joke often to lighten the atmosphere but rarely do I get embarrassed.  Now is this because I have learnt etiquette, I watch my P’s and Q’s and I’m no longer wishing for a boyfriend or is it because I simply don’t really give two monkeys what people think about me anymore.  I have lost the need to fit in with everyone else, I like to be different now.

I believe it’s probably a mixture of things but certainly one thing is I have connected to my inner child and I will ponder a while on what might embarrass her.

Prayer for the Hopeless

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I ask to be as slim as when I thought that I was fat

Those days of long gone by, when I thought that I looked crap

Oh to fit that little piece, I kept in posterity

Who would ever have thought it once looked good on me

 

The years pile on my waistline, however hard I’ve tried

When I try to pull my jeans up,  they hear a random cry

I have to accept this padding, as it refuses to go away

I wish, I pray and hope that it will be fashionable one day

 

Night Visits

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You watch me from the landscape at the end of the bed

With dots that gently glisten, I’m sure not in my head

I see you when I first wake and in the times between

Dots that seem to join you up, although your not quite seen.

I wish you’d form a little more so I can clearly see

Your face, your eyes and all of you watching over me

I know you come in love and light, that your intent is true

I only wish I was certain, that it is really you.