Let the new unfold

October 18, 2013

Tree life SF

Let The New Unfold, Have No Preconceived Ideas About It

Let the new unfold, have no preconceived ideas about it. No one person or one
group of people have the whole picture of the new.

It is a vast jigsaw puzzle, which will gradually be formed as each individual contributes his individual part of the picture. As each piece slips into its rightful place, without being forced
and without a struggle – for remember every piece fits into its rightful place
perfectly – so will the New unfold. Slip into your rightful place and there wait
in perfect peace, allowing every other piece to find its place. It is a glorious
future that is unfolding, even if you are unable to see what it is just yet.

Simply accept

 

Eileen Caddy

 

 

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connection to the true wild

February 24, 2013

 

 

 

 

 

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A friend posted this  quote from Clarissa Pinkola Estes this morning, I wold like to share with you these wise words to remind you  to listen to that call from the wild

 

The way to maintain one’s connection to the wild

is to ask yourself what is it that you want. 

One of the most important discriminations we can make
in this matter is the difference between things
that beckon to us and things that call from our souls.
When we are connected to the instinctual self,
to the soul of the feminine which is natural and wild,
then instead of looking over whatever happens
to be on display, we say to ourselves,
“What am I hungry for?
” Without looking at anything outwardly, we venture inward and ask,
“What do I long for?
What do I wish for now?
What do I crave?
What do I desire?
For what do I yearn?”
It takes spirit, will, and soulfulness
and it often means
holding out for what one wants.

 

Clarissa Pinkola Estes

Dream tree

Be Transformed in a New LifeCast all the old away to make room for the new. Open your eyes and behold nature all around you: a tree has to rid itself of all its old dead leaves before the new growth can spring forth in its full glory. The seed must break through its old skin before it can grow and flourish; it has to leave all the old behind to wither and die away. When a baby chick hatches out of its shell, it does not cling onto the old shell but leaves it behind forever and is transformed in a new life; so with each one of you. Leave all the old behind as you advance into the new. Never look back or hanker for anything of the old even if at the time it seemed very good. There are far more wonderful things in the New so never be afraid or reluctant to leave all the old behind.

this piece was sent to me from FINDHORN this morning, though I would like to share this with you

the painting is one of my creative endeavours

Be Wild, Be free

August 1, 2011

FREEEDOM oil pastel sketch, digitally enhanced

 

 

One of my all time favourite women C P Estes,  who seems to write from a place that touches my soul, posted  this poem on facebook this morning,  it sure resonates with me.  It is a  poem about choosing a new life, letting the wild wolf lead you on a new journey…………..

So many of us get stuck with the demons, as we get older we allow the demons to keep us small, never straying from the known.  But there is a time in our lives when the wolves and the demons can beckon us, let the wolves win, let them steel you away, take you to that place of wildness where life looms large, where uncertainty makes us grow and rise to any challenges that comes our way.  We may get tipped off the path, fall now and again, but our wildness and the keen senses of the wolf will keep us alert, alive and full of passion.

The call came to me in my 40’s, thankfully for me I chose the wolf, life turned on its head, I grew beyond measure.  It take scourage to run with the wolves, try it, you will never look back.

 

STOLEN BY WOLVES

My children grown, the old folks safe in the TV room.

I climb onto the sled made of my chest bones, sinew from my guts,

bundles of food and water wrapped in my own scarred belly skin.

All is fastened down with rope made from years

of my long hair taken from my brush.

My wolves bite the air. It is snowing like a dunja slashed.

My wolves nudge, nudge; they know we are going at last.

 

O my children, look out the window and see

your mother riding over the edge of the world.

O my Mother, O my Father, raise up out of your bandages

and bottles. See me vanish straight into the stinging sun.

 

But no, my parents rattle and creak in their sleep;

my offspring are busy with where to place noses while kissing. . .

 

My family so sleeping, they do not hear the traces as they pull

from out the frost, snapping taut, flipping snow shatters.

My lead males rise in their shaggy frocks;

their paws make mice sounds in the snow.

and we are off in a silver spray,

over the edge of the globe,

my mighty ocean of fur and steam,

stealing me for a future time and place.

 

The plumes of my wolves tails fly us forward

and we ride, we ride, through ponds of stars

that sashay back and forth on their sky ribbons

as my sledge runners divide them.

 

Now begins a storm of paper sheet—

barrels and barrels of scrip,

reams and reams of white page,

brown bag, envelopes, all these

dropped by mill hands with muscled arms

and rolled-up sleeves

who smile down on us and cry,

“Go on! Go on!”

 

All the paper I never had.

All the time I never had.

All the flesh and guts of my life

stored here on this sled,

and I have been lucky enough

to be stolen by wolves

for a future time and place.

 

As one gathers more years, the mind

can be carried off by demons

or stolen by wolves…

and both will inevitably show up.

 

Choose the wolves.

 

—————

and, I would say to you too dear souls:

Leaping wolves will ever make life bigger

even though the sledge might veer and tremble as it flies…

whereas squatting demons will ever keep life small…

otherwise they wouldn’t be called demons,

for they do not rise in harness for your ends, but instead

want to force you into harness for their ends.

 

I know you know the difference.

Wise words from a very wise lady – Clarissa Pinkola Estes

 

The way to maintain one’s connection
to the wild
is to ask yourself
what is it that you want.

One of the most important discriminations
we can make in this matter
is the difference between things that beckon to us
and things that call from our souls.

We choose a thing because
it just happened to be beneath
our noses at that moment in time.
It is not necessarily what we want,
but it is interesting,
and the longer we gaze at it,
the more compelling it becomes.

When we are connected
to the instinctual self,
to the soul of the feminine
which is natural and wild,
then instead of looking over
whatever happens to be on display,
we say to ourselves,

“What am I hungry for?”
Without looking at anything outwardly,
we venture inward and ask,
“What do I long for?
What do I wish for now?
What do I crave?
What do I desire?
For what do I yearn?”

It takes spirit,
will,
and soulfulness
and it often means……….
holding out for what one wants.– Dr. Estes

Circle of Stones

February 20, 2011

A small extract from CIRCLE OF STONES, WOMANS JOURNEY TO HERSELF

Written by Judith Duerk

Woman, seeking sense of who she is, of how she wishes to live her daily life, letting its patterns and rhythms express her deepest values.  Woman, today under pressure, faced with the temptation today to live out her life in the realm of the masculine, denying her own needs, mistrusting her fatigue, ignoring the anguish of her own struggle

Her task will be to gain the help and support of her inner masculine side, and to return to the values of the Archetypal feminine as she ground her life in and order and clarity that nurture her.

A woman in this book, gifted with abundant creativity, never certain whether she possesses it, or it possesses her, wrote the following, this just leapt of the page to  me………

“For me the balance between doing and just being is the most important and dangerous question.  IF I am guilted or lured into achieving too much and lose the stillness in my centre, then it takes me a long time to regain it and I do violence to myself or those I love because of fatigue and pressure.

I have had to give up “winning big” because I love my life when I am connected to it.  I hate it when it and I get caught up in competition and deadlines. Then I have an overriding sense of impatience, my foot taps…….. I gulp down my food whole……… I spill coffee when I am pouring and burn myself on the stove…… I rip, and wrench and tear.  There is a violence that takes over every act and shrieks orders at me.

I am finding it takes a lot of time to be a woman, to have an inner feeling of space and breath, a chance to sink into myself……  as long as I take time to light a candle to my life, it remains my life.  But if I hurry into work without that small moment of quiet then I have already lost myself for the rest of the day.  The task for me is to care, daily, for myself and  my life….. to love and to nurture, within myself, moment by moment, the quality of quiet presence, quietly being present in my life, which sanctifies it,  to live as if the candle is alight

The Joyous Body

February 8, 2011

The Joyous Body: Part Three of “The Dangerous Old Woman”

live broadcasts by CPE on Sounds True

“It is the nature of the saplings to quake in the winds; hesitant, learning to hold their own places. But, the older trees, with their years of testing and being tested, they are the ones who, whether in the long stern winds or misty gales, sway the most. Less a bouquet of tentative trembling first-time buds, now much more the leaf-perfumed hips of a hundred wide women dancing—these old ones, regardless of form, sway, by heart, to the music that thunders through them.”
—Clarissa Pinkola Estés, PhD

The Joyous Body – Clarissa Pinkola Estés.

Who is the protector of this Precious Being who is my body?

Who is the one charged with guarding and protecting the Life Spark in this Radiant Being’s eyes?

Who promised to watch over to the best of her ability?

Who promised to overcome the inertia taught by a large part of the over-culture…

that once you are struggling, you must remain so, and only so.

Who is the heroine of this mysterious, often perilous and sometimes triumphant mythical life of mine?

It is me…

and Creator,

and …any stalwart soul

who joins me in love,

who blesses down hard

for the strength and longevity

the very prosperity

of my body, of our bodies….

whomsoever and in whatever shape

or condition, those dear ‘blessing people’

–or I– may be.