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Call from an old friend

I received a call today.

From my body

And from Mother Earth herself.

“I’ve sent so many messages

Through so many messengers.

I love you.

I want you to come home.

I need you to keep me safe.

I invite you to cherish me more.

Honour me more.

Show up like a mama lion for me.

Soothe me with your touch when I am stressed.

Stop everything and put me first.

Listen long and lovingly to my needs.

Delight in meeting them.

Because you love me.

Don’t hand me over to someone else

To do it for you.

Instead of you.

Don’t abandon me when I feel unsafe

Stop everything and put me first.

I need to feel your presence.

All the time.

Always.

Put me first.

Honour me with your choices.

Put me first.

Honour me.

Listen to my every tiny desire.

Welcome and adore my desires.

Delight in pleasing me,

Nurturing me,

Lighting me up.

Treat me like a goddess,

A temple.

I am you.

I am that.

Act like it.

Come home.

 

Reading this message back, it feels like the deepest call of the feminine in me, to my masculine energy, which has been so active, doing and thinking and striking out. Building and shaping and directing….

In so many ways this call for union has been resounding in me. Even now, as I am here writing a blog post hunched at the desk, a wild little puppy is tearing at my ankles – “Hey!  I am life embodied, I am the earth in motion, be here now with me.” So I’ll end here, and go roll around on the rug by the fire.

 

 

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Drop everything and play in the sun like a butterfly…

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It is time to create and to light up. Light up and the creativity pours out of its own accord. I  don’t sit down to be creative, I just fall in love with life in this moment and my heart starts to sing.

Women need to be in love: with themselves, with a man, with a child, with a project, with a job, with their country, with the planet, and – most important – with life itself. Women in love are closer to enlightenment. For angels and lovers, everything sparkles. ~ Marianne Williamson, A Woman’s Worth.

I am in love with beautiful me, with life, with the butterflies, with this time and place, with the sunshine, with my own heart’s song. So in love with it. My own Joy feels like heaven to touch. It’s the edge of almost unbearable pleasure, tasting my own joy like electric nectar inside and holding it in my body.  This abundant bliss fountain in my body.It is the source of everything else.

I do recognise the privelege of this moment. The privelege of feeling this. It is not a common thing, although it ought to be. Our own joy is freely available to us in every moment of life. Revelling in our own existence like wriggly cats on a sunny patio, is an option in every single moment. Yet I do recognise, it is a rare privelege.

What keeps us from this Joy? Put it down right now, and play in the sunshine of your own magnificence like a butterfly, just for a change. Why not?

I do recognise, so much of what I am making visible here is taboo. The sweetest taboo. Delighting in my own self.

When the immense drugged universe explodes in a cascade of unendurable colour. And leaves us gasping naked. This is no more than the ecstasy of chaos. Hold fast with both hands to that royal love. Which alone, as we know certainly, restores fragmentation into true being. ~ Robert Graves, Ecstasy of Chaos