On Stuff

Jan 13, 2015 by

Those who cannot change their minds cannot change anything. – George Bernard Shaw

 

IMG_2616Yesterday my husband found me sitting on the floor of our office debating the future of a pile of alphabet magnets. A pile of alphabet magnets that I had not seen in 6 years. A pile of alphabet magnets I had forgotten I had.

For one brief moment of madness, I was debating packing them.

Two contradictory things happen when you commit to getting rid of almost everything and starting again: you come face-to-face with your former selves and you have to pack for a self you don’t know yet.

As I pack these boxes, it is my former self that I am discarding. The things that in other circumstances I might have kept for another 10, 20, 30 years, are now going into charity boxes or finding new homes via ebay. And with every pass through a room or across a shelf, something else feels less important. Something that a month ago was definitely coming, goes into a pile, not making the cut-off criteria of: do I love it enough to ship it? Does it match who I want to be?

I won’t be unpacking these boxes. My future self will be. The self that opens these boxes will be one that is no longer wrapped up in the tying up of a great big job. She will have nearly a year of living without this stuff under her belt. She will have committed to a place. Will my future self be grateful for the things collected in her previous life? Will she even recognise them? Or will she wonder what the hell I was thinking putting these things in a box and shipping them across the world?

And how do I make those choices for her?

The ironic thing is that we thought we had made a decision to change our lives. What we have found is that there is no single decision that changes your life. A change like this – just like real life – is made up of thousands of small, seemingly insignificant decisions. And in the end, you can only get there by making one decision at a time, doing the best you can, and knowing your future self will understand.

At least I hope she will.

Because the alphabet magnets aren’t coming.

xo

 


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Let It Go

Jan 5, 2015 by

This is not a light and casual Full Moon! It it kicking off 2015 in a big way- with focus on what needs to shift, change, transform, end and/or be released in our lives.Divine Harmony via Mystic Mama

 

clothes meghan genge9 weeks tomorrow. This was the first thought I had when I woke this morning at 4.53am. We leave 9 weeks tomorrow. How am I going to get it all done?

Having just looked at my lunar app (of course), I have discovered that 4.53am was the exact moment the moon became full. And apparently this full moon means business.

Post-Christmas has been clear-o-rama-fest here. Every charity box from here to London is full of our old clothes (why did I keep them?!) and Ebay is humming under the weight of us selling other people our crap.

Over Christmas we – and probably just about every other household in the western world – watched Disney’s Frozen. In the few days afterwards, Mark and I would jokingly break into the chorus of ‘Let it Go,’ flinging our arms wide and taking in the piles we were accumulating. In the past few days it has become slightly less joyful and a little more stressful.

Let it go.

Why do we keep this stuff? Why does it take a major move to make us get rid of it? In the months since the first wrenching cleanse, have I missed a single thing we tossed?

Can I even remember what those things were?

Reading about tonight’s full moon, in the quiet hours before the stuff cleanse begins again, I am struck by how much I want to let go. I would not be sad if someone else came and just took all of this away, but I know that this shedding is an important part of the process for us. I would be overjoyed if I had woken up this morning and had suddenly become the best version of myself, but I know that energetic shedding is a part of the process too.

It’s all the same. It’s all stuff.

We are lucky. We get to decide what we are taking to Costa Rica, but we are under no illusions that WE will be any different unless we also consciously choose to let go of more than just our stuff. So we are going there too. It hasn’t been pretty, and it hasn’t been fun. But we are going there. The small, frightened, limited, hard-on-ourselves us aren’t invited along on this move. They are being released like a pair of worn-out pajamas.  And apparently this moon is in full support. (I do love a good support team.)

Let it go.

Because that is when the magic happens.

xo

 


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Do you want to be part of a warm and open-hearted community of women, gathered around a virtual hearth fire? Would you like to join those women for discussion about spirituality, questions, self-care and magic?

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Crossing Over

Dec 31, 2014 by

In beauty is truth. In this simple statement is found all the power that you will ever need in life. Find what is beautiful for you and you will find your truth. Find your truth and you will find your power. – Lynn Andrews, Coming Full Circle

 

Earlier this week, Sas and I got together and recorded a special meditation to help us all say goodbye and thank you to 2014, and to really welcome the new year. It’s downloadable – so you can get it now and listen to it whenever you have a moment.

I hope that 2015 for you is full of moments of grace and serendipity and magic and laughter and most of all, that the new year brings you joy.

with love,  Meghan xoox

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All in the Waiting

Dec 24, 2014 by

I said to my soul, be still and wait without hope, for hope would be hope for the wrong thing; wait without love, for love would be love of the wrong thing; there is yet faith, but the faith and the love are all in the waiting. Wait without thought, for you are not ready for thought: so the darkness shall be the light, and the stillness the dancing – T.S. Eliot

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Christmas Eve.

One Christmas Eve, many years ago, I sat in church listening to my Dad talk about waiting. About anticipation. I remember him quoting a passage from the bible that talked about how – when all of the things were happening around her – Mary pondered them in her heart.

I’ve never forgotten that image.

Waiting.

When I wished my husband good morning this morning we talked about how we both always really loved Christmas Eve, because it was all still to come. When you were a kid on Christmas Eve, Christmas was still a big magical unknown. Everything twinkled Christmas Eve. The magic was in counting down the hours.

We are very much in a waiting, preparing, unknown phase of our journey. We are just past eleven weeks until we leave. Part of my fatigue and stress right now is that when people ask us what we are going to be doing, I have nothing normal to tell them. Rather than have another conversation that involves me justifying our leap, or helping them be less afraid, I have taken to outright lying or embellishing the truth. For me, that is a sure route to chest pains.

The truth is: we don’t know what we are doing. We have ideas and hopes and a place to stay for seven months, but other than that we are going on… what? Faith? That is a surprisingly difficult thing for people to hear.

Faith.

We are going to go and see. We are going to see if we really want to be there before we commit, and then we are going to be open to the opportunities that present themselves. We’re deliberately not making firm plans, because we both believe that what we can dream is too small for ourselves.

And so tonight as I join people all over the world in Christmas Eve anticipation, I will also be lighting a candle and remembering Mary, who waited in much more discomfort than everyone else and pondered it all in her heart.

And starting tomorrow, I will begin a practice of lighting a candle as I count my blessings every night. Because every night holds the magic of the next day. Because every day is a leap of faith. Because we can’t dream big enough for ourselves.

Because it is all still to come.

With much love,

Meghan

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The One on the Bathroom Floor

Dec 22, 2014 by

You need chaos in your soul to give birth to a dancing star. – Nietzche

 

b3d57f856feee147f64dba0ed570fc40If this was the movie of my life, this weekend would have been the scene on the bathroom floor. You know the one: the moment when it all gets too much and the heroine cries ugly tears locked away by herself in a room. The one right before profound change.

That was me this weekend.

I’m not telling you this so that you will feel sorry for me or so that you will say nice things in the comments. I’m telling you this because sometimes it all gets too much.

Two weeks ago I was feeling high with possibility. Quitting my job, creating magic, moving to another country, shedding layers of myself – both physically and metaphorically – seeing change happening, having profound moments of connection, all felt possible and good and they were happening.

But then I started getting chest pains.

And this weekend it hit me that all of that is happening. The joblessness, homelessness, selling our stuff, still being at work for three more months, the mess, the paperwork, not spending any time with my family this Christmas, the being a wife and daughter and sister and aunt and daughter-in-law and friend and boss and colleague, and maker-of-Christmas – and don’t even get me started on being a writer – and all of this opening up? It’s bloody exhausting and painful and then there is the guilt that I’m not doing any of it well enough. And this weekend the overwhelm was just too much.

Too much = ugly tears.

But here I am again this morning. I am up and I am going to work and things look a little brighter.

It can be so tempting to only show the shiny sides of ourselves. It can be so tempting to look at other people and see their edited version. But if we are to grow and to be and to embrace all of it, we are going to have to go there.

To the darkness.

Because only in the darkness can we see the stars.

xo

“At the end of the Tower the ego, the conscious idea of self, riddled with mistakes, regrets, illusions, delusions, untruths as well as truths, ideas, illusions of separateness, illusions of needs or instincts, of human life, they are blown completely away. The earth is blown away. The lie is exposed. And when that shell falls, when you find you cannot stand on that lie any more and you fall through the illusions that is self and life on earth and everything you know or knew begins to vanish and disappear, all will become black and empty and then, alone will be a single light. That is the truth. That is home. It is one. It is the Star. In the blackness that was the Tower the Star will guide you home. It is in the darkness that the Star shines brightest.” – Marie White – The Mary-El Tarot (The Star)


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