Word flow/ Journey of Young Women notes 1

I am stripped, bare to the bones and the bones are not strong. That is how I feel right now. A wobbly child with squishy-bowed femurs who has been holding herself up with Muscles and Will till now. Turns out the strings of attachment to others, the meanings and purposes, business and work, stress and hedonism have kept me dancing but now the strings are cut I feel like a puppet on the ground, unsure how to move myself.

I feel lost, so far into the woods now I don’t know who I am or where I want to go. I have memories of the past, when I felt driven, where it seemed obvious to me where my purpose was (I suspect mostly – to escape, react against what I was not?)..or maybe the adventure itself was enough to fuel me. Can I have that again?

Continue reading Word flow/ Journey of Young Women notes 1

Flying from Providence – thoughts from the Air

I’ve been doing a lot of flying in the last few years. I’ve noticed that especially when going over northern countries and being in the in-between realms of time zone and place, I can go into a slight trance and do some good meditation/sorting psychic material out. The words below came as I went from an amazing week with Blaze in CT back to California, via Minneapolis which interestingly enough is where the woman running the “journey of young women’ training lives.

I have to claim and note these times of clarity — I’m distilling out drops of my own substance right now, but it’s easy to pour fear into the vessel and completely cloud it and loose who I am again.

Continue reading Flying from Providence – thoughts from the Air

Returning from the Underworld – Life or Death?

Eventually you have to make a choice – to follow the current of Life or of Death. They twist and wind together, co-exist, become the same thing in fact. Viewed from a distance, or from the consciousness of plants, they are the same thing – life and death cycles join, merging together into one psychadelic flow where the individual itself matters very little. The decay of the old plants provides the fertiliser for the next. Leaves fall, mulch into compost, absorb into roots, become new leaves.

But we are not plants, we are mammals, mammals with heart and awareness, and we tend to give a shit about individuals who mean something to us. It is part of our beauty. In fact lately I’m pondering the concept that it is finding, or choosing, or extracting meaning for our lives is a key part of what keeps us vital – see : Man’s search for Meaning.

If you start to look around the world, wanting and willing to see truth, it’s not long before the horrific aspects become apparent. Especially if part of your essence is compelled to venture into the darkness, to see what lurks there, to explore everything. Or if you experience any abuse or trauma that drags you into the depths. Do you let it destroy you? Do you become part of the underworld? Do you close your eyes to it? How do you deal with the darkness and death?


Back to the currents of Life and Death – Perhaps a better way to put it is do you align yourself with the stream of creativity and growth, or that of destruction and obliteration? I can see these in the outside world of human endeavour, but I also feel them very much inside me.

Brought up to be a good girl catholic I had to maintain focus on the Light, and of Life. Darkness was denied, or absolved, by a small white wafer every weekend. It took me to my 30th year to see that for a long time my real alignment had been with the current of Death and obliteration. I’m not sure when it started – it may be possible to trace it all the way back to a difficult birth, where I nearly died before I’d even begun — but it certainly intensified in my mid late twenties. Part of it was a compulsion to actively go into the underworld, to see and value what was hidden in those shadows, a reaction against the world of light and love. But that actually masked a deep and certain conviction in my core that the best thing to do with my life would be to destroy it completely. And I was dancing increasingly on the edge of that destruction for quite a while.


It didn’t feel like that though. It felt like expansion. Pushing every boundary. Exploring every direction, with the kind of “courage” that comes from actually being reckless with yourself because you don’t care. Or because  you are looking for what will eventually destroy you.

I found it – for me it was a single line of cocaine, experienced whilst living disconected from my family, in a dodgy pub, with no nearby support. I’d been living with an alcoholic before then, and attended some meetings, and heard the repeated story of the first time  people drank – that was it, they were lost. Cocaine was that drug for me, the gateway to my death – it gave me everything I’d struggled to find or achieve, and it held a dark mirror to my own soul, offered a twisted truth. It led me to the choice of hedonistic obliteration, of checking out from the planet.

The only reason I chose not to do that was out of love for someone else, a best friend of mine. I didn’t want to leave her behind. It wasn’t because of my own value.

I am still, almost 2 years later, building a sense of genuine love for myself, enough that my default mode is to chose to live, to believe in self worth, to want to be here to love and be loved, to dare to grow. For myself. not for others.

The journey out of the underworld takes time, and many people don’t make it. There is no quick fix. Certain things have to be faced.


Jeff asked me this weekend, did I feel a fuller person now. I said – I don’t know. I reflected some more. This is how I’d describe it, and I offer the words in the hope that someone else one day might find some sort of solace in it, or just because rarely do people even talk about these struggles –

Before, I felt the fullness and eternity of an endless 24/7 TV channel, ever-flowing lights and colours flickering, moving, entertaining, being watched, being enjoyed, being consumed.

Now, I feel a fullness forming that is more akin to classic scuplture, like Michaelengo’s David that I saw – beheld – in Florence. It is solid, consolidated, but yet hooked into ancient magic and art…it can be walked arond and viewed from different angles, the light may change and play over the surface of the form, but the essence is retained.

Before, I felt fullness through just how much excitement and life I was sucking in and through me. I had expanded myself in all directions and I was hungry for life, for drama, for emotions – I was full of them all the time, my inner world and outer world the same thing. I was constantly bumping-jumping-falling from one experience to the next, intimate with many different men sometimes on the same day, often on the same day in fact. I had discovered so many aspects of myself that I could switch and flow between, each one appearing to stretch to infinity.

I was also terrified of stopping and being alone, and lost when with myself, something that didn’t happen often.

To chose the path to be with one man, a man full of fiery light, I had to give up the many. Good bye to power games, dramas, flirting, random sexual acts, intimacy through novelty, or being ‘valued’ for my willingness to share myself without limits.

Giving that all up was really hard. Only now I’m starting to relax about it.

I read this in another journal, and it prompted me to write today

” I feel like I have been living a half life during the time I have been sober. I’ve been fairly functional and responsible but I crave the elation I feel when I am drunk. I have missed the thrill of promiscuity.”

I understand this — there was a time, a long time of struggle, when it seemed impossible that I would ever find a life that matches what I felt before. I felt diminshed and lost. But I kept going, and I still keep going, and slowly slowly a new world is forming around me. And find that there are others, more than I thought, walking-scrambling-crying along the same path. Being slowly, agonisingly born.

Now – I am feeling things I never felt before. I’ve felt a sense of smugness and satisfaction in moments when the life and love around me is truly nourishing – and I’m actually taking it in. I’ve felt a calm love for my man that runs deep within me but grows beauty every day. I’ve felt a sense of solidity and resilience I never had before. I’ve felt genuine awareness of others around me who I love, and a capacity to consider them as I enjoy being considered. I have moments, growing in frequency, where I truly love myself. I have a new inner voice, that speaks with calmness and care against the clamour of the self-destruction demons. Sometimes I listen to it first. I am remembering the old passions, feeling the pull to create and to draw…it is quiet but it IS returning. I feel colours and sensations intensifying around me as life becomes more magical without needing drugs. I am able to enjoy the peace. I am able to value the silence.

I actually have plans for my future. I’m thinking more than a few days ahead. These plans are fueled by enjoyment, not by fear or anxiety. It is slow, but it is coming.

The light and the dark, creativity and destruction, can both exist within us, and I think part of the whole problem is the way they have been split so far apart. They become polarised and exagerated, both poles can become warped and life diminishing.

But it is whether the overal will of the person is for life – when we create towards what we want or enjoy, and destroy what we don’t want or need to be any more — or the will is for death – distract ourselves with endless life and noise till the darkness finally claims us. This is the choice we make each day.

So I’d encourage people to stick with the long climb from the underworld, and to be gentle with themselves about it as they do so. But I  feel it starts with a choice, a deep choice at some point to  finally align your Self with growth and engagement with Life, or to align yourself with obliteration away from it.

Hecakti – Cross roads of Blood and Life

Hecakti – Cross roads of Blood and Life
Bleeding time, October 14
Though many beautiful realisations had come, my blood-tide refused to start, I felt it holding inside, blocked, stubborn, for a final emotional wave.

Children and motherhood came up again. It has come up a lot since marrying an older man with a vasectomy. This is not the normal path, I  took a turn away from that some moons ago. But still surprised to end up in this place. I have grieved the tears of a true love with a man who I can never conceive with. It is  the sweet grief of finding dimensions of emotion opening up I never thought possible – not just to be pregnant but to conceive with HIM, specifically – feeling a longing that is so beautiful my heart aches and a second later the pain of knowing it will never be. I have cried and talked of that, and yet as my cycle goes round the thoughts come up again, more bitter now. I watch my shadow carefully at the corner of my eye, eating and swallowing the emotions, hiding them away from me, bringing limitation of life. I notice how I’ve not responded to emails with loved female friends – one just 2 weeks a mother, the other in preparation for pregnancy. I notice a thought that they are superior to me now, and I am jealous of them, and the worlds we are in are dividing and splitting, I can not be around Mothers without my feminine self feeling inferior and ragey.

I catch this thought by the tail as it scurries away into a dark hole, cat-claws in, pulling it out for inspection.
How can such thoughts be? My heart feels only joy at their motherness. The darker feelings leak from elsewhere, my power and my womb.
– —————–

Here were the points of breakthrough –

Of facing head on that I still want to be a mother. And that it won’t be in the úsual’ way.
Of fullness-freedom coming first – of Jeff in his full and free self, exuding life and art- I want the child that comes from me to be around THAT man, one not weighted by provider-man  duty. Of me being in my Queen self too. Of a life that is full and into which a child can come and be nurutured and inspired — NOT a life that is ABOUT having a child and focusing everything around that. I know that iam only a mother with a small life around me, misery will come..!
That Ican still hope and have dreams for that life, it is  a possibility of truth. The idea i dont have to cut away the mother desire but i can bring it with me allows ALL of me to  move forward. Dont need a promise, a possibility of truth is enough.

Lilith’s Return….


Art and Pleasure, Sex and Sin, Find in Life your own way in, Mistress, Subject, Slut and Whore, Open Gateways, Always More. Every Woman and Every Man can find All the Archtypes, all the Land…

My story is NOT about descent and redemption of the whore by true love. It is about one woman claiming ALL aspects, integrating and creating with them a whole new life – in a manner SHE chooses.

I’m finding a piece of my key soul purpose-vision :

ALL women are Lilith, ALL women can reclaim that archtype and bring her forth from the Shadow. I say NO to being a whore/dakini as core identity, this restricts, confines, obliges as much as being just a wife or any other single label. I say YES to sex, power and magic. ALL WOMEN can access this, not just some. Just like ALL people can create Art. I don’t LIKE fracturing and elitism and lists and hierachies. Sex and Art is at the core of Life and available to anyone who wants to claim it.

All the Priestess needs to appear is a Temple – a sacred space and sacred time, away from the rest of the world. That, and the fuel of a man’s desire for her and for Life. With these two, she can open gateways and create magic. I do not need attachment to that identity any more than as an artist or a wife.

What I REALLY like is curiosity and expanding choices for all of  who we are and can be. I do NOT show the path of one woman finding narrow purpose or one man among the many, I show an example of the ‘heroine journey’ for women adventurers – finding and claiming and exploring and charting into unknown territory, bringing back careful maps and wild stories! The alchemist-witch who processes materials into sparks of gold and life.

My journey into shadows was because I wanted that  power-dark-sex archtype to be held up among the pantheon of female possibility. I wanted to give it back rightful place, Lilith and Adam, Sex-sensuality-vision-mind all in one.

BUT whilst a woman might find and constellate this archtype by literally becoming-acting out these sacred-whore roles : it IS NOT the sublime goal. No. Not an army of Temple Priestesses coaching-coercing others to step into the Shadows with them and stay there. It is for this energy to be unlocked In ALL women as a possibility, for the women to claim it as the men want it. To call Lilith out of the Cave and into the Sunlight. Regarding her with Love and appreciation not fear or anger.

Women can and may choose this as their core label but it is not enough for me. It is not enough till every bedroom is a Temple, till every woman is a Priestess if she chooses, the Goddess is for ALL NOT FOR ELITE FEW. THAT is a sign of the OLD religion. EVERY woman-Every Man-Every Form has a DIRECT LINE to the Sacred. Every or Any woman could become what I was or do what I did. But it is not something to market or sell as a commodity, any more than the Old priests sold prayers for purgatory. It DOES cheapen it, unless the whole world views these whore-women differently. But if and for that to happen, it means viewing ALL women and their magic anew – and we have a whole new set up that doesn’t require secret meetings and hidden names.

I see and feel an old and powerful Vision coming back into me, the Return of Lilith from Hell — but this time as Mother and not an angry Maiden. Queen Persephone. The Light and the Shadow Realms have to come together.

I want : a loving intimate connection to myself, and from there to a man and to friends and to Life around.

I want : a deep earthy dark magic and power crackling through me, a well I draw on to create-destroy with, blood and tears, pain and pleasure. Vibrant Life given definition and dimension by the shadow.

I want : a clear and sun lit room of plants and air and space. Words and structure and clarity. Beautiful art surrounds me, testament to my will-art-life pouring into creating the world I choose. The life I create.


Starting to think about the Inner Editor

comment from a facebook post of another woman writer.

This is helpful and timely. I’m having some sabbatical weeks and finally allowing myself to let my own creativity be important. Today i have been considering my distrust of the editing process to my raw/truth/heart art – whether writing or drawing. i tend to just create by pulling it out the ether and on to the page. like a child does, mixed with some sort of feral beast that demands raw truth. And that comes out good, and stirs emotions, and I like that. it also comes out in spurts that I love one day and then panic about the next, that i can only create when i feel that passion driving expression from me, that once it’s out it is done, fixed, and i may or may not be able to make more. so…yes..i noticed that i am distrustful of the word “editor” – why?! I connect it to the idea that editing will limit distort or take away from the truth. but what im working out is that my negative associations with editing come from having a pretty severe and whiney critic, i destroy and dismantle myself all the time, and the only way to keep my art safe is to create in that raw one-off way, to get a drip feed of support from others to nurture it. Because it runs as a direct line from my emotions to my words my art feels susceptible to all kinds of emotional whimsy and i feel like its not sustainable or can only come so far. But what if the inner or outer editor was something that could nuture and deepen the vision? Maybe i can foster something new in myself. Some of your writing has shocked me by being very close to my own, hidden words in secret journals, I am happy to see it and I understand where it comes from. I have a pressing sense that these are truths that need to be expressed, that our raw-art is important,  and I think developing more skills to frame and support it is good. I have the beginnings of new perspective growing in me, but its requiring me to re-think and re-imagine my whole sense of being in the world


From Austrlian author Kate Holden…..”And, at the end of the day, I find it humbling even to witness and experience my own ability to write. Not always write very well, but – well, to be able to write at all, in a world with still high numbers of people who can’t, or poorly (somewhere between 50 and 70 per cent of Australians have sub-sufficient literacy) and to be able to write fluently and to have written adequately enough to be published. There are the operatic rapturous moments when the muse kisses you deeply and the magical words fly from the ends of your fingers, when you’re surfing towards the bottom of each page, when a day’s work is like flying… and there is the simple, much humbler appreciation of being able to communicate and express in a form which is not transient in the way conversation is, or ephemeral in the mind’s eye images, impressions and memories that we share with ourselves, or mumbled and incomplete the way speech is. Writing fixes things, it allows articulacy and elegance where we might be shy in person; it gives us the time, as we cogitate each word, sip the tea, stare out the window, pat the dog, to evolve our thinking carefully; it permits the retraction of a mis-thought and the replacement by a better one. Writing lets our thoughts – formed in the very material goo of our fleshly brains – live on for millennia (just ask Seneca, who took his own life but still scolds from two thousand years ago). And writing is an act of grace, isn’t it? I don’t mean to end on a gushy, sentimental note. I’m not talking about eye surgery on the poor. But writing is grace, and humility is the nicest way to receive it.”

Still Point, reflections on the whore

Last night, I received a cranio-sacral session in the midst of a lightning storm.. the woman worked directly on my nervous system, although I didn’t realise till later. I felt anxiety releasing and nerves down into my lower plexuses. I felt drug-like shifts in time/space (nervous system work does weird things apparently). I felt the flexion-extension of the CNS that they keep burbling on about…like a motion from fetal position to stretching out. I felt centering and what they call “Still Point”. I feel the whole theme of my life right now is trying to ‘deal/embrace’ with being in a still point. For someone who survived by learning how to react and move from stress this is unnerving. A still point feels like the ocean going flat. It feels like walking into a graveyard. As she said today when we discussed it – yes, it is a little bit like death…it is a pause between one cycle and a next. the temptation is to fill it with noise. But there is no noise I can fill it with here that would satisfy me. I have to wait for the tide to return. Or the storm to bring me a new form….

At 30 I felt full of mess and sex and power. I was creating with blood every month in honour of Lilith. I was standing on the intersection of sex-power-money and and loved the freedom of that world on the outside, the shadow realms where most people don’t look and so you can be everything.

At 32 I’ve stopped being a whore, a slut, opening up to many men and situations, transforming them with my sex, or at least that was the intention. Now I’m not so sure how far that transformation goes, or how long it stays. Maybe I just didn’t get clear enough at capturing the right people. Maybe the point with Lilith was power-sex for it’s own sake and magic that happened through you, the vessel of transformation your body and cunt, the enticement nakedness and form.  At the start of being with J I had to face down Lilith, the whore and the married man met head on and he stood up to her, that’s when I knew I’d found what I’d been looking for. I wanted to claim my body and my sex back for ME. I’d done my service.

Claiming it back meant facing all the disconnection, all the fragmentation between sex and personal heart (as opposed to the universal-anonymous love that you tap into as the sacred-whore). It meant facing the strands of sex-addiction and new-love addiction that wove through my purposeful work. Sensual massage work or any kind of attention focused work that includes giving or receiving pleasure, sex, intimacy – this is a perfect place for people with these unmet attention desires. I had men paying me, supporting me, to be there and be given attention, or to respond with the most approval a man can give to what I was doing and being.  I loved that I could see right into their most intimate soulplaces and then at the end they’d fuck off and I could go eat some cake and drink tea. There was challenge, art, and skill in the work, and value -yes I don’t deny that- but it was NOT teaching me about how to go deeply into love myself, or how to to become less selfish, or how to relate to another in a way that stitches together the sublime and the mundane. And I hit a point of anger when I realised I no longer wanted to be used as a crutch/tool/escape to keep dysfucntional marriages or relationships bearable.  I wanted to be part of deeper transformation. There were cases where  I may have been the gateway to a man’s freedom from shame, but his next steps were not to salvage or leave his relationship but to go deeper into the shadows and start calling up and going through a sequence of other women and practitioners to sample other flavours of the same.

Learning how to love on a personal level, to slowly let my body become mine again, was hard, slow, painful and involved feeling every bit of choked down anger, disgust, sadness at every time I’d let boundaries be pushed, or I’d done something just to get the money, or I’d misjudged the situation – my body remembered every one of those moments. It wasn’t all glorious magical transformation and it was hard to accept that. But I discovered how despite every initial doubt I found MORE sanctity in limitation than I did in boundless sharing.

And yet…and yet… there WAS true magic in that work, and art, and I felt powerful snakes and ancient ritual coming through me, and damnit I miss that!

I also miss knowing my sexuality is valuable because it had use and money attached to it. (infact I’m challenging my belief that I have to be “useful” to have value in all aspects of my life right now).

Ripping all the sex-money-newAttraction away revealed that a lot of my sexual confidence only went a few inches deep. Lots of masks to protect my vulnerable heart. Lots of roles to play in which may have been true aspects of me but no-one got the whole picture. Safety.

I find myself as body-conscious, sexually-insecure, ugly-feeling as I did as a teenager. It’s like eventually taking away the glossy thick pile rug and finding the stain still there, underneath, and starting to smell. Eventually my self-love growth and attention needs to happen.

I used to feel that sexual/pleasure shame was the biggest issue to resolve. It’s certainly a big fucking weight.  Now I feel – Ripping away the shame is not enough. Not if you don’t know how to value and love your sex yet, or how it integrates into the rest of your being.

I am at a Still point with all this, but starting to feel the stirrings and yearnings of dark expression, for magic, for doing something which dances with raw energies of life and affects real transformation. I’m not sure  how or what this can look like yet. But until Lilith found me one Solstice night, I didn’t feel that pull or passion either. I will lie awake in the storms or still in the silence, I will go into the words and take in Life again. I will see what comes next.

What I DO know –  I still have a wolf-heart. I now have a wolf-mate. I will not settle, can not settle, for life without magic in it now. If I can’t have at least as much, as rich magic with this one man as I could as a sacred-profane whore-witch, then the whole thing is a joke. Put the wolf pelt back on and run back into the woods..

Thoughts on the marriage manifesto

I found this today on a blog. It doesn’t take long to read so thought I’d send it to you.
There are some parts of it I really like, and also a lot that pisses me off. But I thought it would be good to read to start seeing how other people have rethought about marriage etc. This guy does talk about marriage being a transformational event, rebellious and inspiring, about not taking it for granted or seeing it like a consumer product. Being truthful and vulnerable.
But what pisses me off is this sense that he is accepting a sort of limited Artistic Vision, I have the sense he has found a way to create the best you can with a marriage that you are in for life. Accepting the messiness of it. I also keep reacting to his stuff about being  a loser and giving up your ego.
To me though it highlights just how well we are doing and how I don’t see marriage as a thing to fix stuff etc — actually for both of us it is a big challenge around even claiming those words. Also how amazing our love is – that is IS romantic, and true, and soulful. Also his words on being a loser and accepting mess REALLY PISS OFF MY ARTIST SIDE. That and the Alchemist!!!
I don’t WANT to accept living in messyness – and just leave it alone like it doesn’t matter. I want to accept it, and then USE it for ART. for transformation into BEAUTY and GOLD. and that is JUST what we have been doing so far and it is REALLY important to me. I love how we want to make Art with each other!
Something that I  AM surrendering though — is that sense of my life being entirely about ME and my single thread of artistic vision.  (This perhaps is what the author is trying to get at?) Other people either support it or get in the way of it, or become woven into it under my rules. I think that this IS something I want to “sacrifice” on the marriage altar. Because with you, I am changing my life and giving up things in order to also consider your art and vision, and so we can co-create things together…BUT the amazing thing with us is that feeling that you identified — that somehow we actually help each other grow into bigger, fuller creatures and art than we can ever be alone. this isn’t the same as filling gaps. I will not sacrifice my Life’s artistic vision NOR expect you to do the same. But I AM willing to sacrifice the elevation of my own single artistic vision beyond all else – the idea that only I can create the picture that is my life. I WANT to open myself to a bigger vision — to let life itself create through me, to let your art mix with mine – to let you choose the colour of the spheres you paint on me. That really IS key – to claim a life of bigger art, of art that stretches beyond just myself. To see that you can influence me that deeply and yet it is still MY art. To celebrate and welcome our dance, to be able to influence and call to and create with you. To just see what happens when we are fully together, co-creative artist-alchemists.
I’m not sure if this is something you can understand or want it. I perhaps project my own independent suspicions on to you – the feeling that you want to keep separate and aloof from me, to keep your art safe. But actually, I remember and treasure those deep moments of excitement we have had when we create and make things happen together – food or art or something else. When it feels like the world is opening up into a new shape.

Respect and the Queen

The Queen knows intrinsically that she is worthy of Respect – she need not make demands or plead to others  for respect – it is more that she moves through the world taking respect as a given. Only those that treat her respectfully are even allowed into her throne room, let alone her bedroom. When she walks through the outer kingdom it is with her guards protecting and watchful.

Her immediate reaction to disrespect is not anger or sadness – as she knows it is not hers to deal with, but the emotions of another lashing out in her direction. Holding a powerful archetype means you become a visible hook for other people’s frustrated projections – this needs to be accepted and managed. The Queen stays grounded and compassionate in these cases, letting it flow around her and not taking it on. She responds in the middle ground, calm, direct, simply refusing to take it on, holding herself in her truth. Not crying. Not tantruming or being aggressive back.

I have to watch for the Witch-Queen in me – she is the Queen that will listen, take things in, act with haughty disdain perhaps then go back to her dark castle and brew lethal counter-attacks. The Witch has better things to do with her darker magic. Not lashing back to others, but looking with the inner eye to what in herself and her own life can be destroyed, putrefied, ended, cut. She is the Crow that understands how to be nourished by endings. She may help others with her darker magic but only with their Will and Permission.


Respect has nothing to do with always being Right or always being the Best. It is about the Integrity to hold yourself , consistently and with a fierceness that is reliable and trustworthy. Respect and Accept  – these go together somehow. There has to be acceptance of difference, which includes recognising what you need to have in your life to maintain a level of SELF respect.

I am having to learn and grow in this area. Love for self is not enough. Self Respect is key. I still feel a fledgling when it comes to respecting. I only have lately developed a level of awareness of Other enough to come to see how these interactions flow and not to take everything personally, like a child. I am blind to places where I’m not being respected if I’m being shown love – Mike being the case in point. I looked back at posts from 13 years ago describing the start of patterns that STILL continue — I’m pulling up all the roots now, wanting to clear and challenge and sort my life out before the next stage.

I changed my boundaries in my massage work initially out of respecting Jeff’s Will – driven by fear of loosing him. Over time that changed to respect for him and for our love. And NOW it has coalesced into respect for the Art I am creating. As he kept saying – why do you let people trample and piss over your beautiful art? It’s because I didn’t see how to respect it. Now I do.

So I’m using this – Respect for Art – as my focus and fulcrum. I take my own (still growing) self-worth out of the equation by appealing to something beyond myself – something that matters. I have offered myself to Life’s Art. I respect Life – and if I mean to be part of it, I have to keep my end clean. And slowly, the way I treat and feel about myself weaves in with that respect, I feel the Queen forming – she-who-is-to-be-respected, who is embedded in Life. Queen of her own Domain.

There is no room for Mike and his comfort-blanket love in this world. He clings to a vision from the past, and to step into that even for a moment means becoming diminished and withdrawn from the truth you have poured so much love, life and effort into. Just accept it. Just accept it and see it is not yours to fix. Just accept it with compassion. Sit on your throne in silence if you need to. Your smallness does not belong with this man anymore. His heart is not your responsibility. His heart is not your responsibility. His life is not your responsibility. Let him make his own art. Take yourself away, declare what he needs to be to approach your throne, or he has to wait outside. He has no right or hold on you. You are only responsible for yourself and the way you walk on this Earth.

Engagement to Self – for Grace

I have been so blessed and nurtured by the Heroines group started by Thea Eurphaessa — meeting mythic, intelligent, sexy women and sharing tales and inspirations.

One such woman was talking about getting married to herself, which I thought was absolutely brilliant. I mentioned a few years back I got engaged to myself for a while.. I don’t know where the ring went but it was silver and had spirals on it. I wrote in my journal words to myself, and she asked if I’d share it. So here it is. I’ve not even read it for a couple of years, but I’ve been finding in the midst of deepening relationship to a man the twin path of committing ever more to myself..so timely.

There are two parts-  one was the inner masculine writing to me as an emerging woman. Then my promise as a woman getting engaged to myself. As I typed it out I’m struck by how those words apply again now, and of all the journeying since 2009(!) how long it has taken to bear the fruits of those promises – I feel them coming now, I feel forming finally the woman who I actually love, not the girl seeking approval.


“This Ring (message from me/my inner male? to myself/my woman :))

This ring is a symbol of commitment, of perseverance.

Commitment to exploring the depths and heights of our love, perseverance through the cycles and changes of life.

Are you ready to take this step?

I can see you are trembling. Fear not, for I want not to bind you or limit your being. Only for you to claim responsibility for your actions and to act from complete integrity.

For I am ready to love a Woman, not look after a child. To wear this ring is to claim and state that you are a woman now.

A child demands and runs around, taking no heed of others.

A woman enjoys the pleasures of life – but unrushed and aware. She is in charge, even to her surrender. She is not a whimsical girl, but strong in herself and certain in her actions. Are you ready to make this commitment?

A woman recognises her limitations as she stands in the centre of her power – saying yes or no with clarity and decisiveness.  She knows her value and treats herself, her heart-body-mind with utmost respect. Can you do this?

I love you so much, I am your Protector but I can not always be there. Be watchful and keep your guard up – protect yourself with the ferocity of the she-wolf – let no one take advantage of your love and beauty. A woman is ready to fight if she has to.

Are you ready?

I do not want to see wanton abandonment, for you, the spark of your soul, is lost in these moments. Stay aware – aware of who you are and what you are doing. You are precious and deserve to be well.

Do you agree?

This ring is not to bind you, but to remind you of my love, which is here to support you – not to continue as a child, but to be walking in this world as a woman. A woman in her power, in control and taking responsibility. I will love you as I see you dance in this integrity. I can approach you as a man in respect and love, in thankfulness and awe. You can tell me anything and I will hear it. I ask for honesty with yourself and me. Do not keep me separate – I am part of your life, wear this ring and be reminded. Come to me first – come to me and ask for your Desire – I can be anything that is needed. I love you. I want to witness the full expression of who you are, in a way that is powerful and life affirming, where our love can flow.

This ring is to keep you present, so I may continue to see you and love you.

—– Promise of a woman engaging herself:

I make the promise now I should have promised long ago. I promise to honour and love and respect my self, in full spectrum. I promise to be honest with those I love and walk my path with integrity – I promise to say NO when I mean no! I promise to always make space for the truth of my heart. To not sacrifice love on the altar of instant gratification. As long as I wear this ring I am committed to myself, to being-becoming the woman I am, for I am needed in my power and clarity. I will perservere to the end.

I may still leap, but I promise to consider the consequences first. I claim full responsibility for my life.

This ring is the symbol of life, of woman in all her aspects. I am ready to be her. I promise to honour my yoni, my sacred temple. I promise to honour the power of my sex and use it for life and pleasure, not for manipulation and control. It is here for those I love, for myself, for my life and my power. So mote it be.”



notes for a new aeon