The petals of our fragile love unravelling in the gossamer breeze of fading time as you and I drift through and away between enlightened spirits revealing as they’re fiercely weaving the webs of our stolen memories.
I bow at the feet of his mighty form great pyramid of fire channelling temptation’s thirst that great longing in his heart that’s yearning to be sated by a goddess of the earth come down from the starry sky. She lays in wait, revealing the hidden trapdoor to her truth as the torrents swirl those confused thoughts left over from aeons before ’till blazing elements reunite in their washed-out harmony we’ll circle around to the shaman’s dance in the trance of our tumbled dreams. Oh they know – but not how – they’ll come true.
There's something, quietly, soothingly, balancing here; in the gentle tumbling of the rain in the gossamer luminosity of the sun when its rays break in my unpretentious-chic middle-of-the town apartment meets Caribbean jungle vibes in the lazy mornings rolling around in my wider-than-is-long bed breathing deeply to the rhythm of my spinal fluid excreting flowing down and along connecting cranium and sacrum expanding and lifting like a helium balloon I'm an atom an atom that's exploring the Universe within my healing palms
If you think you know how to take it slow, think again. Life here on the Caribbean coast forces a different kind of rhythm on you. If you go for a lunch break, be prepared for it to take just an hour to have your food made, one slice of plantain placed slowly and lovingly in the fry pan, after an another.
You can dwell in anxious impatience, about how you’re going to be late to a commitment.
Or you can surrender into the opportunity to explore just how slow your body might really want to move.
The practice of giving Craniosacral therapy is also inviting me to slow down in deeper ways than ever before. I’m learning how the subtlest of touches can cause powerful healing ripple effects throughout the whole body. I’m learning to cradle the bodies I’m working on, with more tenderness than I would even hold a child, each second thinking: how can I be slower, more gentle, more loving?
The focussed attention with which I must move and work means I essentially spend the day in meditative trance, and it’s having profound knock on effects for my own general state of calm and wellbeing.
I’m getting into bed at 7.30pm each night, cradling my own body, exploring its contours and noticing just where the placement of a loving hand can really make the difference. Breathing into those aching spaces, listening and following them as they start to expand, and expand further, inviting in warmth and love and light.
How often do we just stop to hold ourselves tenderly? To place a palm on a part of our body that’s hurting or simply longing for calm, grounding, touch?
We can give ourselves the love we crave
and the healing we desire.
The blessing of life itself is filling me from within and around as I melt into the purest bliss of Love
This morning I woke, with such a deep feeling of joy and gratitude at being here, alive on this earth. Through all the ups and downs of life. Yesterday morning I’d felt quite different: waking on my birthday, exhausted, after being awake long hours in the night with food poisoning.
But you don’t appreciate the ups as much when you don’t have the downs.
Very excited to be continuing my travel out to the Caribbean coast of Costa Rica today, on my way to study Craniosacral therapy. More to come soon. It’s been a manic few days and just trying to slow down, breathe, and stay present in each moment of the journey. There is such beauty in the simple things.
Much love and wishing you a beautiful end to the week.
Facebook does that thing, where it gives you a memory: a little reminder of where you were and what you posted, however many years ago. And today, it reminded me of a post from 5 years ago, of my LLB undergraduate dissertations, a photo I'd uploaded just before handing them in... One year later, some 4 years ago, and a few days before I was supposed to sit (and did sit) one of my Bar exams, I'd be in hospital with a bunch of needles in my arm. Fast-forward to last year: I would've been preparing for a trial, if it hadn't been for the fact I'd been unexpectedly locked down in Costa Rica and, in any event, due to Covid, the trial dates had been postponed. Last night, I played at what may be the last open-mic for a while, as some new restrictions in Costa Rica come into force. I met with a few friends who will leave town soon (I will miss them!), and then we went to frolic in the ocean underneath the full moon, before the 30 minute midnight hike back to my little jungle home. The moon was so bright, a flashlight was not necessary. And I haven't put on my glasses for any task, even computing which I originally (and still sometimes do) struggle with, in over three weeks now, as I continue to heal my vision naturally. It's an ongoing journey with many ups and downs. In some ways, circumstance forced me on a new path in life. In other ways, it was and is very much a choice. Every day we have a choice... a choice to view the glass half empty, or half full a choice to view roadblocks as opportunities to grow a choice to think outside the box, and believe that any dream can come true a choice to wake and watch the sun rise, and be grateful for simple beauties a choice to nourish our bodies, our hearts, and our minds a choice to give ourselves love, to do the things that, deep down, make us feel good and make us feel alive a choice to communicate with love, instead of anger, frustration, fear a choice to live, as the best version of ourselves a choice to breathe deep a choice to rise a choice to shine Sending love x Always grateful for any support
In this podcast, I speak about a transformative meditation technique that initiated and catalysed my healing journey.
I went from feeling physically, emotionally, and mentally crippled, to turning my life around, commencing a successful legal career, and finding the courage to transition to a lifestyle that integrates all my passions, as well as enables me to share the experiences and knowledge I’ve gained.
Grateful to Swaram for the interview.
Hope you enjoy, feel inspired, and wishing you a beautiful Saturday.
I’m grateful to any support, whether through sharing my messages if they resonate, or any contributions.
Grateful to PhoebeMD for featuring another poem of mine: my words also reminding me of my journey and the rise after every fall…
Because life is full of challenges, an endless cycle of death and rebirth.
◊ Rising ◊Rising [a poem] — PhoebeMD: Medicine + Poetry
Dear one... the pain be part of the journey to feel and to bear before you emerge reborn, renewed alive to your fullest potential
I know that starting a new “regime” is not always easy. Whether it’s a new diet, where you’re cutting out your favourite go-to treats and you’re struggling to battle back the cravings; or a new exercise routine that feels painful and exhausting on weary, underused muscles.
Instead of seeing the pain as a negative thing, befriend it. Change your relationship with it, understanding that it’s just temporary discomfort that is part of your healing process. Instead of fighting with it, breathe with it, be grateful to it: this new practice you’re starting is going to bring you results.
I’ve recently started a new, painful ritual. Every morning, after my yoga practice, I put a drop of this “Miel de Mariola” in my eyes – a special honey that comes from tiny, stingless bees, and is used to treat vision problems and “clean” the eyes.
For about 20 minutes I lay down in the gentle morning sunlight, while my eyes are on fire, burning with the sensation of the drops. I can’t open my eyes, it’s too painful. I’m blind.
The more I struggle the more excruciating it seems to feel.
So I’m learning to befriend it. I remind myself to breathe deeply. I also tune in with the other sensations – beyond the pain – that I’m experiencing. I have started to witness interesting releases of tension in the muscles of my face, and observe with curiosity that I am often experiencing simultaneous releases in my belly. The different parts of the body are interconnected in many ways that we don’t fully appreciate and are only beginning to comprehend…
And I emerge from the pain, feeling calmer, somehow refreshed, and with a little more clarity once I do open up my eyes. I wipe the tears from my cheeks and lick my fingers, relishing the sweetness of honey residue that has oozed out from my stinging irises.
There’s a sweetness after pain.
You got this. Keep going.