Browsing Tag


emerge, Sacred Feminine, whimsy, Wild Woman

to the edge

October 10, 2010

“I don’t think most people go to the edge of anything.” – Caroline Myss



A little while ago I accidentally went alone to an Enchanted Palace.  When I set off in the morning on a solitary adventure, I had no idea that it would take a fairy tale to wake this sleeping beauty.

I have often been told that my expectations are too high.  When your expectations are too high you are inevitably disappointed when the reality does not live up to them.  Arriving at the palace on this day, however, I had no expectations.  I had made the decision to spend the day following whispers and as I got on the tube at Paddington Station, I noticed the poster for the exhibition at Kensington Palace.  As a notice counts as a whisper, that’s where I decided to go next.

The exhibition was absolutely charming, but all I could think as I wandered through the rooms was that I wanted more.  Bigger, more magical, more whimsical, more intriguing possibilities filled my imagination.  They had given me a fairy tale, but I wanted to add fairy dust.  I wanted to emerge from the other side with twigs in my hair and feet sore from dancing, with a whiff of spices tangled in my clothes and a faraway look in my eye.

Standing in the park afterward I realized that it’s not that my expectations are too high, it’s that my perception of the possibilities is enormous.  There, beside a lake in London, the ‘aha’ hit me: however big my belief in shining possibilities, there is the necessary knowledge of dark ones.  One thrills and the other frightens, so I have spent much of my adult life wishing for one but preparing instead for the other and ending up somewhere in the middle.  I have tried to want less fairy dust, but instead of being happier I ended up with cobwebs.

Blinders slipping, feet planted, hair tangled, I am getting closer and closer to the edge.  I can feel it coming.  Sacred and feminine have been showing themselves to me bit by bit, and I know things are changing.  I am no longer afraid of disappointment because I know that I am a grown up and that the magic is in my control.  I am no longer interested in becoming a princess or living happily ever after: I want more.

(A lot more.)



a passionate affair with words

September 18, 2010

Be regular and orderly in your life, so that you may be violent and original in your work.” – Gustave Flaubert


Ooh, can you feel that one?

Am I the only one afflicted by this or does it happen to you too?

Do you ever get an electric shock from words?

Does your skin ever tingle when you find just the right combination of letters and spaces that speaks directly to somewhere deep in your body?

Do you ever feel like your heart or your soul or your toes or your neck actually understand what the writer said before your brain does?

Do your eyes sparkle or tear up when they read something that touches you exactly where you are in the moment?

Have you ever read something three times and felt nothing only to find on the fourth visit it grabs you by the heart and won’t let go?

Does your throat read words more intensely and reactively than your brain?

Do you gulp words down in bites far too big to chew because you cannot get them in quickly enough?

Do you delight in finding kindred spirits on the page or screen?

Are words as necessary to you as your breath?

…or is it just me?

Brave, emerge

Dear me,

March 1, 2010


Not Good Enough

Not good Enough

Not good enough

not good enough

not enough

not enough

not enough