Wednesday, 26 October 2016

we are transported
to a phosphorescent dreamland
dipped in leaf blood, resin streaked on our faces
moving clockwise round some otherworldly flame drummed out of the stones by the ancient tapping of civilisations past
intoxication of the feet and bones
colourful storms in our heads
we slip into a place without Time
and there we rest our weary souls through ecstatic movement.

Monday, 10 October 2016

life and the dying

today I went to send some love and healing to one of the largest trees in the local park, the one that I heard by word of mouth that the council have decided to cut down. the beautiful, powerful oak tree, hundreds of years old, is slowly decaying from the inside and is a safety risk, which is completely fair enough. but I wanted to send it some love to help it along. it has been partially severed and must be in a strange state of limbo, i thought.

the tree before any cutting.

So I went to this enormous tree and planned on connecting with its energy with my back to its trunk, spending some time in a sort of embrace, skin to skin. when I got there i felt that its energy was telling my instinct not to go that close to it. some sort of distressed feeling entered my gut. so instead I sat on the grass a few meters away and gazed intently.

i wondered if the tree knew it had been partially cut away - if that was the explanation for the sort of hostility i felt. i thought of how the trees have a sort of instinctual knowledge of when their time comes to shed the leaves of green in the autumn time. the sap begins to flow down and the tree has let go already. the same wise acceptance of a death that happens year after year. the graceful ease into this.

but this tree was coming to an end in a way more permanent. the final turning of the wheel. and i wondered if it knows that. if it can sense that this autumn's descent will be its last.
did he feel his arms being cut off one by one, a harsh knowledge forced into its bark?
did he know this earlier, when he started decaying?

work being done on the tree.

the weight of this was pulling me into the roots in the ground when i noticed a grey squirrel poke its head out from behind a branch to stare at me.
the squirrel scurried all around the tree, its tail moving like a feather duster out of control. it was so alive. it leapt from branch to branch, staring, running, jumping, frenzying all over the place. shards of acorn shell fluttered down from the tall branches and landed not ten inches away from me - scraps of its dinner.

how life and death can hold hands.
i thought of the squirrel and how it would lose its home. how it would find another in the same day. how the squirrel draws nutrients from this tree that is about to die, and one day the squirrel too would die and decay and perhaps nourish the ground the tree was rooted into. the yin and yang. inhale and exhale. give and receive. live and die.

as i was about to leave i sat in a brief metta meditation for the tree. "may you be happy. may you be healthy. may you be safe. may you live with ease." 
i reconsidered this. sent a new blessing. may you die with ease. 
yes. may all the dying, die with ease. x

Thursday, 6 October 2016

lingering seas

let's sing and dance in the ocean of vibrations.
it's just outside the door and heating up the hearth. it's beating in our blood and swimming in our little mouths. bristling on our skin and playing in the sunlit strands of hair.
let's go and write a story about the humans who trekked for 40 days and 40 nights to find the boat that sailed them to the island of Belonging. we can find their bones in the rockpools at the beach and an eyelash or two in the lichen. 
let's paint a sunrise on the door and press our bodies up against the wood. it is the skin of our sisters after all.
i am just a human unsure of my place and trying to climb the ivy up the wall. with a war against the pockets of mind we have not conquered yet. the places we cannot see properly, but sit heavy behind our eyes.
but i know some places where stars are like dewdrops and the forest floor made us ballgowns. there are tiny wheels of cosmic delight and indigo stains paint themselves into the places the sunlight doesn't sit. butterflies and birds. and those without flight. weaving our roots to the earth while our heads play in miniature galaxies with the winged ones.
and we can feel ourselves held in the synergy and are blessed.

Saturday, 24 September 2016


"Our community should involve long dead poets, sharks teeth, the heavy frost on a Scottish glen, the erotic trim of a Bedouin tent." - Martin Shaw

How does your personal community of sights, sounds, words, artists, thoughts, inspirations, designs, shape your life? How do they reach inside you and pull your favourite parts of yourself up to the surface to bloom? 

Magnificent, dream-provoking, breath-borrowing art by Amanda Clark. Paintings to make you reach for the part of yourself up there symphonizing with the moon.

Friday, 16 September 2016

(photo is not mine)

you know when something is so magnificent
that you see it, and your whole body and heart aches with its beauty
and you can't stop being lulled into its dream and can't take your eyes off it,
no matter how hard you try?

that was the moon tonight

Friday, 2 September 2016

Today I read someone referring to themselves as a "unity of diversities". And it made me think about how important it is to acknowledge that not any one of us is one particular person. I think a lot of us try to subscribe ourselves to acting in a certain way and involving ourselves with certain things because that is our identity and that's how people know us. But we all have a myriad of selves contained in our being. Trying to be one particular thing or identify ourselves as being a certain Way or a certain Energy or Identity isn't where authenticity lies. True authenticity is found in the strengthy occupation of every version of your Self that there is... of course we are always shifting and find one part of our soul flittering in the sunlight while another part is off feral with the wolves, we all contain a vast spectrum of different energies and identities and move through lots of them every day. So embrace all the different sides of yourself and don't always push yourself to be the same person if you just don't feel like that person at that moment. Because you're not, and you don't have to be. just some thoughts. x

Sunday, 28 August 2016

near slumber

bit by bit, the afternoon fell into a near slumber
the horizon sucked the blue down into cloud-dream
holding its silvers and golds like a mother holding child.
the clouds pass by like they have somewhere important to get to. bird forms getting lost in the grey. and the leaves of the trees dance gracefully, knowing that their descent comes soon.
autumn is never cruel, and the beginning is my favourite bit. like a long exhale. you've been holding your breath for so long and now you let it, just - - go, whvoom, there.
bringing with its emptiness murmurs of folk music and solitude.

and life becomes something to delicately tie and mold back together, using offcuts of wool and feathers and guitar strings and broken things.

(this photo is not mine.)