Monthly Archives: October 2011

Jumping the heartwall


Ah the beautiful
invitation of the blank page, tabula rasa upon which the eternally
fresh surprising unknown may be invited to tread ::

sunlight is scant this
morning so all the more precious; not unlike absent loved ones – we
are forced to rely upon their memory imprints within us – or after
their death we look for / turn to the parts of them which we have
kept alive within ourselves. How realistic these aspects might be,
how identical to the truth of that person, is an interesting
question. In some ways we exalt exaggerate and reify them, and with
some people the opposite : vilify, callumnify, castigate and judge. Yet
even though we have good reason to hold these assumptions due to the
copious examples we can cite; all the “he did this to me” and
“she never did….” IF we can get just one small but crucial step
away from the knot/not………..

when we allow in a breath of freshness and the
opportunity of seeing / feeling it anew

rather than through the cages
of our outgrown limited selfdom;

when we open the roof on the dusty
old house, a miraculous thing can occur.

We might glimpse life from the other’s perspective, we can transcend the surly crushed pouting
wronged party’s entitlment obsession and actually learn something important.  About what really went on,

about them, about life, about

A precious friend told me that he would not be able to sort out his issues until
his father was dead – it was just too unsafe and awful  –
dangerously ragemaking maybe, says I? Meaning for me to be confronted
with the actual presence of my greatest tormentor now in the fullness
of my awakedness and power to express what I was incapable of saying
or responding when those things were happening…….. why would you
too not avail yourself of this golden chance to repair a wound which
has festered for decades? Because you don’t believe it possible to
alter anything; you can’t undo the past or erase a suffering or
delete a wrong?

BUT it truly is possible to view what happened from a higher position of expanded and empowered isness………..even if it begins from the premise that perhaps one would be a less
compassionate person had one not been so injured in the past –
which could relax the tetanus grip of the event sufficiently to
enable a space to open between then and now…..

otherwise we condemn ourselves to constantly keeping it real and constantly happening in
the now, which is what we do because there is no linear time for the
subconscious, everything is happening now for it! Do you get that realisation? That we hold ourselves in the fire years afterwards and the pain the shame the blame or whatever is stuck to it

is forever re-enacting in a totally real way.

Hence the futility of saying get over it / pull yourself together / get a grip. None of that can touch
the memory whilst it is walled off.  This is where the wondrous techniques of energy medicine can work their magic! Here is the portal through which we can rescue our distressed trapped self!

In my story “Cloudbusting” the heroine learns how to influence the miasmic clouds she is clairvoyantly able to notice around people she cares about. So she sets about healing everyone, soothing furrowed brows and calming ruffled feathers at first. Then, gaining confidence, she
becomes the shaman she truly is, and engages in outright soul retrieval journeyings.

Laudable and lovely as these selfless acts of love may be, they are a messiah
complex in the making, because she is using them to avoid dealing with
her own woundedness and lost inner child. If she could only turn the
intensity of her spotlight within, to illuminate and dissolve the
blocks around her self-allowance, the heartcage would show up like
the great wall of China strung across her inner landscape and visible
from outer space!

Then one day far in the “future” of the story she is weaving about her, she is brave enough to pray for her own blocks to be removed, because she feels at last confident in her own goodness to risk the resultant power surge. And so it is – and lo!

: There is no explosion or implosion at all, there is no tsunamic release or backlash, there is in contrast a fathomless influx of Extraordinary Grace and an incalculable expansion of
Unconditional Love : she becomes a vessel of Blessing Bestowal,

such is her massively ramped up capacity for Radical Compassion. She finds
her inner fearlessness, accesses her utter limitlessness, and truly holds with confidence the sword of Truth and the shield of Enlightenment which have been awaiting her arrival – waiting for her to show up as a consistently whole Presence.

Aha! One of the irascible fears she had sewn in place to prevent the heartwall
dissolution had been the belief that she would cease to live once all
barriers were removed – and yes in truth she did cease to exist
from the egoic perspective, because all the blocks her notions of self
were built upon blew away those referents. In a twist to the 3 little
pigs tale it is the pig who does not build bricks around himself who
is saved, because he trusts in his own ineffable safety – the
Providential Protection which has provided consistently everything he
could even need before he even asked for them. No? Do you honestly
still think you have continued to be incarnate by virtue of your own
efforting struggle? Please…….!


Let go that sphincter control
and come into the presence of your living awareness right here now

there is no
on to be racing on towards………

there are
no pressing constraints of time – look you now : the clock has



and know



there is no wall! there is no pain! there is no barrier – none at all between your heart and mine…

we just made them up, thunk them into imaginary existence from the fear place………..

see when we incarnate into the helplessness of infancy, come into the forgetfulness of the 3D, and the illusion of utter dependency predicated by the difficulties of the human childhood experience, we are taught the rules of limitation and subjected to the whims of dominion. Until we at last awaken to our true selves, accept the mantle of our own innate ineffable Sovereign self along with the response-abilities that connotes – and as we become what we truly are and live from and as the harmlessness benevolence and beauty of our birthlight, we automatically cease viewing others as others – even those we may have been repelled by we find the ability to see in and from the innocent purity of their babyhood. Addressing only and relentlessly THAT in them, and discounting the rest as so much window-dressed posturing survival tribal dance-enactment untruth …………… it becomes very clear that the bigger the tyrant the greater their fear……..

so stop feeding that fear with any reaction to it,  and hold them only in and as LOVE which is the only real truth regardless of all appearances………….

here in this common ground, this field of allowance

is all the Grace any of us will ever need

is all the Love we require for the unification of our diversification

is all the understanding and clarity our tiny logicality ever craved and sought in vain for…………

here in this isness which is placeless spaceless beyond boundary nowhere: now/here

the potential of the void opens up to us:

as we think so we are

as we allow so we grant unto ourselves

as we give so shall we be gifted

give then love, to the fullest extent of your being!

and come back and tell me what happens to you, through you 🙂




Thus guided to book themselves night flightly on that specifically preposterous occasion of apocalypso strapturitude, settling in as comfortably as one may in economy class, the enthralled pair entwined their hands and hearts and prepared to lose 24 hours. Whilst their bodies wrapped halfway round the world, enrobed in a metal cased dart precisely pitched thru darkness and night – out to the upper atmosphere and coasting in a hazy hum of deliberately reduced oxygen and massively upped CO2 tranquilising air………..bzzzzzzhummmthrumble pressure equalising earpopped state of  patient attendance. Stomach juices awaiting the clink of plastic glasses and the rumble of trolley wheels…….willing it to be apple juice and almonds but its orange juice and wheatybangs with MSG 😦

Resigned to approx 2 hours of no gastric stimulation : the movies it is then…….outdated bucket plane has no personal choice, so the first film is already underway……….rubbish seen-it-before….not up to reading, nothing to see out of the window but dense cloud….

find reasons for immediate gratitude such as nobody is kicking the back of my seat, and there are those little winglets either side of my head to prevent my neck pillow from sliding out from under my head should I slip into slumber………no chance of that right now, but perhaps deeper relaxation even a spot of meditation to fruitfully while away a space of existence.

the first childscream commences as expected and allowed for…………all children cannot achieve the level that Iona had when she took her first flight from London to Miami – not a peep out of her as she contentedly snuggled on her Mum’s lap, aged almost 2, so thrilled to have her Mummy still and here at hand, and here still when she awoke – what utter contentment! No waking alone scared cold Mum busy always doing something so very unsatisfactorily and ragemaking! Now this is more like it: warm glow smile constant boob on tap happiness sigh sleep snuggle giggle snuffle; reassuring smiles from people all around in awe of a quiet child……….who felt no need to run around or grizzle – all my needs are met before i have to demand- this is wonderful relax rest sleep again………..

therefore long flights hold no fear for the adult Iona who relishes the opportunity to languish if somewhat crampedly en route to visit family and escape routine. Daveed in contrast had been in some small dread of this enforced confinement when his legs longed for their daily bicycle stomppumping, his lungs for their necessary stretch bellowing puff and huff zone of enlivenment. Nausea frequently arose to express this dislike, whilst he determinedly focused outside of such feelings and onto his Beloved strapped in right next to him.  Thirst versus loo trip, hope its not pasta for the vegan lunch, when is it my turn for the window seat, do we really still have 9 hours to endure like this…?

Droning on through a short night into a swiftly drawn dawn sketched brifly en passant across the narrow aperture of triple glass gasp sunbursts a glorious morning welcome above the curved horizon banishing the stars with its eagerness, warming the frozen outer shell of the plane….

tea oh for a steaming mug of real tea! ears pinned back listening for the approach of the breakfast trolley, trundling laboriously down the pinched corridor, blocking toilet access……….it won’t even be worth the wait for a half thimbleful of pale dank bogwater but right now I’ll take whatever is offered………..lurch, tummy drop heartrise headswirl bank trough bing! seatbelt sign glares on, stewardess retreats with tray banishing all prospects of bogwater break

ok default movie setting it is then…….inevitably halfway through not that it matters its purely for distraction purposes anyway……partner asleep legs draped over your side in inevitable entitled encroachment, crick in neck ache in back cramp in calf – mild panic is it DVT? what are those exercises they advise you to do to stave it off, should’ve worn flight socks regardless of superficcial discomfort – wake her up to suggest mutual stretching moment, make it interactive conjoined fun…… she won’t be amused or pleased; best to visualise enhanced bloodflow through exremities whilst discreetly rotating ankles………..where’s the spukely bagz just in case the urge to hurl touches irrepressible level? Scrabble through overstretched pocket of seat in front whose inhabitant arches back in protest at the reminder of a presence behind competing for scant air and minimal resources. Seasoned flyers know where to source emergency food and drink supplies in those hiding places the hostesses have at the back of the cabin. Seasoned flyers know how to most effectively appeal for refills of coffee and those scratchy cloths laughable called a blanket, but at least they cover up the fact that you’ve slid your troogs down to feel less constricted.

can’t sit sideways can’t slide forward, someone in next seat has allowed their arm to impinge on one’s own personal allotment – toleration is better than confrontation so pretend its your gift to them not their theft from you and revel in a bloom of benevolence……..oh no the worst bit, when they reach over you and slide the shutter on the window to block out the light when you so desperately need it and the ability to glance frequently for reassurance out at the spaciousness beyond, the illusion of more air than this stale smelly fusted upness you’re forced to inhale – what if one pretended to have chest pain and thereby gained access to one’s promised drop-down mask of lovely oxygen? But no, for one would then be forever branded as a flightrisk plus condemned to undergo medical examination upon disembarcation………should’ve taken tranquillisers or at least accepted the proffered alcohol………..when are they going to wake up and talk to me? how can they sleep through turbulence like that?!

and there we shall leave them, for empathy has exhausted itself in remembrance of flights past………. know that my love lives within you always and everywhere, know that you travel with wisdom and vivacity neither from nor into but as – as ever expanding self liberation that automatically must simultaneously embrace empower and free all sentient beings in accordance with your will and declared intent. All is well. Enjoy, for your pleasure increases the amount of pleasure in the world and diminishes the suffering, and so it is xxxxxxxxxxxxx c u in English springtime if not before




This is my first ever blogggg 🙂  am sitting next to Iona having just returned from choir – she has been playing her Dad’s music all day long, getting it into order on her computer, with admirable sustained focus and patience. Next stop you tube!! It is very exciting to contemplate them at long  lovely last getting together in Australia and recording something together. I can think of nothing more important in our lives than music, Mum told me I was singing before I talked and that was way before a year old – and Iona was the same……..Mum didn’t sing to me though, unlike the way I was always singing to Beenie even before
she was born. My Dad sang in a beautiful tenor voice, but nobody appreciated this so he didn’t do it much 😦  He never forgot the joy and priviledge of hearing Caruso in person. Early memories seem to revolve around hearing the radio in the late 50’s, especially on Sunday lunchtimes, and the glorious plainsong of the monks at Mount St Bernard’s Abbey.

There is nearly always a song in my head for every occasion and feeling, which I usually allow to vocalise ( sotto voce in company – unless they know me or have asked me to respect silence). When I was younger I used to like / need music playing much of the time, but that is very rare nowadays……….besides the background aforementioned soundtrack to my life I actually enjoy silence, or the filtered through neighbours / birdsong / traffic which is not loud or annoying and never impacts
upon me ie requires nothing in response, so is neutral energetically/emotionally.

Going to make a snack now – aah food – the second very important thing in my life!

Bye for now xxxxxxxxx