The wolf and the lamb

There is a delusion

That coddles me safely away

 From the edge of the void that feels like breaking.

It is time

To unwrap myself from its fleecy familiarity

Be the wolf and leap into the void.

There is a delusion

That snaps its jaws at me

When I try to step into the light of truth.

It is time 

To pass through its hot, heavy breath

Be the lamb and enter the fields of gold.

They are the same

Though they feel very different.


Winter: retreat

There are parts of me trailing outside of my edges

Trodden on and tugged on and trapped and taken.

As I draw my essence back to the centre of what is truly me

Those dead leaves can fall in a blaze of glory.

Brittle branches can break away in the hands that grasp them.

I can prune the excess and sacrifice the weaker parts.

Let it all fall away with the Autumn wind

To revitalise my roots.

Stay close to the ground that feeds me.

Make the most of the light that shines on me.

Drink deeply of the water that is life.

Embrace the magic of the coming dark.

Stand naked and grounded in the storm.

Go within and build beautiful new creations for the spring.


Letting go takes love

To let go does not mean to stop caring,

   it means I can’t do it for someone else.

To let go is not to cut myself off,

   it’s the realization I can’t control another.

To let go is not to enable,

   but allow learning from natural consequences.

To let go is to admit powerlessness, which means

   the outcome is not in my hands.

To let go is not to try to change or blame another,

   it’s to make the most of myself.

To let go is not to care for,

   but to care about.

To let go is not to fix,

   but to be supportive.

To let go is not to judge,

   but to allow another to be a human being.

To let go is not to be in the middle arranging all the outcomes,

   but to allow others to affect their destinies.

To let go is not to be protective,

   it’s to permit another to face reality.

To let go is not to deny,

   but to accept.

To let go is not to nag, scold or argue,

   but instead to search out my own shortcomings and correct them.

To let go is not to adjust everything to my desires,

   but to take each day as it comes and cherish myself in it.

To let go is not to criticize or regulate anybody,

   but to try to become what I dream I can be.

To let go is not to regret the past,

   but to grow and live for the future.

To let go is to fear less and love more



Dear Friend…

Dear Friend,

I hear your call for healing. For remembering your wholeness. For uncovering your Self.

I hear your wish to be done with the old stories of who you are, of the traumas that make no sense, of the feeling of being without an anchor in the world and the fear of not knowing.

Dear Friend,

I cannot answer your questions and I cannot change your past.  Only you can do that.

Only you can build new pathways in your brain, choosing each moment with conscious will a different thought, a thought of the world you would like to be in, how you would like your world to be.

Only you can step off the repetitive track and let go of the painful familiarity of your old stories.

There is comfort in familiar pain, because it is known. It is what you know and you hold onto it tightly because what you don’t know feels like monsters in the dark. 

Dear Friend,

The choice you have before you is to trust life again, to trust yourself enough. To turn your head  just a fraction and look at beauty to see your reflection.

To feed the hungry ghosts with your loving attention, to hear them as parts of yourself put out in the cold and dark, disowned by you and cast out as unacceptable. Hear them, accept them, forgive them, love them. 

They are human parts of human you, who are holding all your pain and confusion for you. Thank them for trying to make sense of it all. Let them know they can put it down now and rest. They don’t need to carry it now because you are ready to let it go.

Dear Friend, 

I believe in you. I love you. I’ll be walking beside you all the way. I see your courage and your light and I believe in you.


Full Moon

I feel like a drunken temple dancer.


Outrageously lovely,

Behind velvet curtains.

Quite possibly ravaged.

The  moon rolls along 

The rim of the earth

Like a bright round penny

Carrying childhood hopes

In an arcade machine. 

These two things are 





I don’t regret walking 

Wide eyed

Into your walls.

I don’t pretend

I didn’t see them.

I don’t believe I was able 

To believe

What you told me

When our hands were having another kind of conversation,

But I knew that it was true

For you.

Like telling the ocean:

“I have edges that do not move,

That do not flow or spray or rage.

They just stay silently solid.

There are places that you cannot go.”

The ocean shimmers and nods and swirls around itself,

And your shoulders,

And between your fingers and amongst your hair,

Trying to imagine how that is.

I ain’t sorry.

For that or for this.

Know that the sting of salt water

Is testament to the healing it brings.

The ocean loves the shore

To the beat of the moon,

And their dancing 

Makes the sharp things soft,

And the solid resistance of the shore 

Gives the ocean occasion to feel

Her own force

And withdraw.


Hush now

Tonight my heart flies to yours

It sings softly to yours

Strokes your furrowed brow

Holds your shaking hand

Stop fighting yourself and be

Stop fighting yourself and be free

Relax, look up, see the sun above you instead of clawing at the walls.

You are right where you need to be

Your heart will do the rest

If you let it

If you let it be

The stories mean nothing now

You are you, afresh and anew

I wonder if we will meet in this new world?

I trust life to hold it.

I will not follow.

I will not run.





Meet the crocs in the river

Realise they are actually in my mind



Meet the lurking murk in the mirror

Realise it’s actually in my heart

Love it

Dress it up and take it out for dinner

Become friends

Become lovers

Swing it round and kiss in the rain

Move on

Step outside



Sit down for a bit and look around

Go back inside



Sit down for a bit and look inside

Setting up camp in the woods

Extending my northern horizon

Expanding my eastern horizon

Tearing up the map

Patching up my heart then letting it break open again

Learning that my capacity to love is endless and expansive

Learning to trust myself, and faltering, and remembering, and rinse and repeat