I had always used writing to help me process and understand
the things in my life that were too big to retain in my head.
Somehow the act of writing something down and giving it a
structure on paper helped me gain clarity and perspective.
Later I was introduced to storytelling by my dear friend Elizabeth
Scott. It soon became a most useful, magical and inspirational
healing tool for me to utilise, as well as an enjoyable pass time,
whether listening or telling.
I went to sleep
and I grew strong
realised
I'd done no wrong
and as I woke
to a brand new day
all my troubles
had gone away
I was free
to live once more
the storm was weathered
I'd returned to shore
Through the Windows of My Mind.
I see a small child sitting on a swing in the garden. She is swinging higher and higher above the flowers. She is smiling and laughing to herself, caught in the moment. I can hear her singing, " Lakshmi, Lakshmi, Lakshmi" she sings rhythmically with the swinging motion. She does not know the name, she thinks she has made it up. It feels good as it rolls off her tongue, "Lakshmi, Lakshmi, Lakshmi ".
That day returns to me and I am glad of the memory.
I see a woman busying herself in a beautiful garden. She is sitting on a paved patio with a trowel in her hand, not planting seeds or weeding. She is mixing up small amounts of cement and pressing it into the cracks between the paving slabs. Then she pushes little bits of broken crockery into the wet cement.
A man appears, he gently strokes her hair, " I love you" he says.
A single tear rolls down her cheek, " When I make a thing of beauty it reminds me I have beauty in my soul"
I catch my breath, I remember that day and suddenly I can feel a great depth of pain caught within me.
I hold on to steady myself, " No, no, no, not again" I am saying
(faster)
Something is coming towards me. I am too scared to turn around but I can see a large shadow reflected in the window. Dark and menacing and all embracing it seeps over me and begins to darken my vision.
It wraps itself tightly to me like a coat of tar, restricting my breathing and taking me down. The ugly monster.
"When I make a thing of beauty it reminds me I have beauty in my soul" and a tiny fragment of light glints just like when the sun catches on one of those little bits of broken crockery.
I can see a woman in a beautiful garden. She is watering the many flowers and as she does she talks to them and thanks them and tells them how beautiful they are and what joy they bring. There is a calm beauty to her, a knowing.
She turns to the window and waves,
"Come and join me" she says.
the things in my life that were too big to retain in my head.
Somehow the act of writing something down and giving it a
structure on paper helped me gain clarity and perspective.
Later I was introduced to storytelling by my dear friend Elizabeth
Scott. It soon became a most useful, magical and inspirational
healing tool for me to utilise, as well as an enjoyable pass time,
whether listening or telling.
I went to sleep
and I grew strong
realised
I'd done no wrong
and as I woke
to a brand new day
all my troubles
had gone away
I was free
to live once more
the storm was weathered
I'd returned to shore
Through the Windows of My Mind.
I see a small child sitting on a swing in the garden. She is swinging higher and higher above the flowers. She is smiling and laughing to herself, caught in the moment. I can hear her singing, " Lakshmi, Lakshmi, Lakshmi" she sings rhythmically with the swinging motion. She does not know the name, she thinks she has made it up. It feels good as it rolls off her tongue, "Lakshmi, Lakshmi, Lakshmi ".
That day returns to me and I am glad of the memory.
I see a woman busying herself in a beautiful garden. She is sitting on a paved patio with a trowel in her hand, not planting seeds or weeding. She is mixing up small amounts of cement and pressing it into the cracks between the paving slabs. Then she pushes little bits of broken crockery into the wet cement.
A man appears, he gently strokes her hair, " I love you" he says.
A single tear rolls down her cheek, " When I make a thing of beauty it reminds me I have beauty in my soul"
I catch my breath, I remember that day and suddenly I can feel a great depth of pain caught within me.
I hold on to steady myself, " No, no, no, not again" I am saying
(faster)
Something is coming towards me. I am too scared to turn around but I can see a large shadow reflected in the window. Dark and menacing and all embracing it seeps over me and begins to darken my vision.
It wraps itself tightly to me like a coat of tar, restricting my breathing and taking me down. The ugly monster.
"When I make a thing of beauty it reminds me I have beauty in my soul" and a tiny fragment of light glints just like when the sun catches on one of those little bits of broken crockery.
I can see a woman in a beautiful garden. She is watering the many flowers and as she does she talks to them and thanks them and tells them how beautiful they are and what joy they bring. There is a calm beauty to her, a knowing.
She turns to the window and waves,
"Come and join me" she says.
Simple Pleasure ( read at our wedding )
To walk outside at daybreak
Every sense gently awakened
You look up, the sky is pushing aside it's dark, velvety covers. One or two stars are still peeping through.
Somewhere, in the distance, seagulls are calling out to each other.
The grass is damp and cool beneath your feet.
The silhouetted trees are rustling and swaying in a gentle dance.
The air tastes pure and clean. You breathe deeply, and in that moment you find peace; you know that all is as it should be.
To walk outside at daybreak
Every sense gently awakened
You look up, the sky is pushing aside it's dark, velvety covers. One or two stars are still peeping through.
Somewhere, in the distance, seagulls are calling out to each other.
The grass is damp and cool beneath your feet.
The silhouetted trees are rustling and swaying in a gentle dance.
The air tastes pure and clean. You breathe deeply, and in that moment you find peace; you know that all is as it should be.
Rainbow Lady
RED is courageous and BIG and BOLD
ORANGE is such a joy to behold
YELLOW's my sunny, funny friend
GREEN's compassion never ends
BLUE speaks calmly, true inspiration
INDIGO's intuitive and inspires creation
and VIOLET is the colour of spirit nation
I love the colours, now their story is told
I am The Rainbow Lady, and you my friend, you are the GOLD.
First Flowers (a story for imbolc).
The longest night has passed. The yule log, which burned so brightly, is now just cinders in the grate. New Year celebrations are finished.
The days are still short. Somewhere deep in the rich brown soil lay a small and tightly packed bulb. Above ground a hard frost spreads upon the earth's surface, thick like icing on a cupcake.
Somewhere deep Mother Nature calls softly, " Awaken little one, awaken."
Something within the small and tightly packed bulb begins to stir. It hears the call of Mother Nature and in response sends down a thin, white, spidery root.
The days continue short, a thin watery sun hangs low in the sky. Nights are still long and cold. The stars glitter shiny and bright. the moon gradually grows bigger each night and as it does the small tightly packed bulb breaks open and sends up a thin green shoot, up through the hard frosted earth.
In a few days time a small bud appears and then in turn the bud opens to reveal a delicate, shy, white flower; a snowdrop; the first flower.
"Fool!"gasps the North Wind, "You've come too soon."
"It's still winter" creaks the ice on the lake.
But the brave little snowdrop just bows her head and stands quietly by.
Soon other snowdrops join her and they stand around in joyful clumps, whispering to each other, "It's coming, it's coming." they whisper.
Each day the weak sun climbs higher in the sky and each night the moon grows larger once again. Another green shoot forces it's way up, up, up, and out of the earth. This shoot grows taller than the snowdrops. The birds begin to gather in the bare branches of the trees. They chatter excitedly amongst themselves, "It's coming, it's coming!"
A bud appears at the end of the tall shoot. Within a few days a beautiful golden flower with a deep orange trumpet blooms; a daffodil.
(trumpet sound)...........ta ta ta ta ta ta ta ta ta taaaaaaa..............................
"The winter is over. The spring is here. Long live the spring"
And so it was.
The Story Of Mithras. (written + told by me Mar/Apr 2014)
Long, long ago, at the dawn of time, when the Gods and Goddesses played amongst the heavens, a new baby was born on Earth. But this baby did not make it's way into the new world head first from out of it's mothers womb, oh no, this baby was borne of a large rock. The rock split open and there inside lay the child, a baby boy, and Mithras was his name.
Mithras grew to be a healthy and happy boy, watched over by Sol the Sun God. Time passed quickly until one day Sol looked down upon Mithras and he noticed that the boy was now on the thresh hold of becoming a young man. Sol decided the time was right to set Mithras a challenge, a kind of "right of passage", so he sent his black crow down to earth to give Mithras a message.
The crow found Mithras and explained to him that he must go and kill the Sacred White Bull. Mithras did not want to kill the bull, "No, no" he said. But the crow insisted that he must; saying, " When the deed is done you will understand."
Then the crow offered to help Mithras and he lay down on the ground and, as Mithras looked down, he saw that the crow had turned himself into a beautiful feathered cloak. Mithras picked up the cloak and tied it around his neck. It was long and soft and made of wonderful inky blue black feathers. As he looked down again he saw a long black spear with a sharp pointed end, like a crows beak. And so, wearing the feathered cloak and carrying the long spear, Mithras reluctantly set off to find The Sacred White Bull.
Eventually Mithras spots the bull far away on the horizon. He begins to walk slowly towards the bull. Now the bull does not have very good eyesight but it sees something dark coming towards it, "What's that?" it thinks and snorts hot air out of it's nose. Mithras continues walking slowly towards the bull, the breeze catches the feathered cloak and flares it out behind him. The bull cannot make out what this dark thing is that keeps changing shape, it stamps it feet as a warning, but Mithras carries on walking slowly towards the bull. Now the bull is alarmed and it bows down it head and starts to charge. Mithras stops, he is scared, his heart is beating fast but he holds his nerve and the spear out before him. The bull keeps on charging, it's getting faster and faster. Mithras stands his ground and it's all happens so quickly, the spear is plunged deep into the bull's heart and the poor beast falls to the ground, gasping it's last breath.
Suddenly, in that moment, a miracle happens. Something of The Sacred White Bull ascends upwards and turns into the moon. Mithras unties the feathered cloak and throws it skywards to free the crow but instead the beautiful inky blue black cloak become the beautiful inky blue black night sky, with all the stars and constellations.
Mithras is exhausted so he lays down beside the bulls body and goes to sleep, the very first sleep of the very first night ever on Earth. The next morning Sol the Sun God has risen in the sky and Mithras wakes to see that a large pool of the bull's blood has collected, only the blood has turned to wine. Then he notices that the bull's tail has sprouted wheat from the end, so now there can be bread and wine. And as he looks about him he sees that every drop of blood that was splattered and sprayed upon the earth now has a plant, grasses, flowers growing and all the creatures of the earth are there. Mithras realises that in slaying The Sacred White Bull all of life has come to earth, and he knows he has done well.
From that day on Sol the Sun God continues to rise in the sky every day and the bull moon reappears every night. Life on Earth is good and plentiful. Soon, some when in the not too distant future that young man who killed the Sacred White Bull would himself too become a God, Mithras the All Seeing God of Light............................but that is another story.