My own words, thankyou...

This morning, Angelina and I spent some quiet moments watching the sun rise, listening to the birds, watching clouds, sipping tea (and her hot cacao) etc...we reflected on a few things and then I asked her if she would try to sing the song she'd asked me to sing her the night before.
It was the 'sing a song of sixpence' nursery ryhme, and I asked her if she could repeat the words after me, so she could learn it and sing it to her auntie or the new baby...

I sang 'Sing a song of sixpence a pocket full of rye...', and then asked her to sing it back to me.

She slyly looked at me,...sideways, out the corner of her eyes and with a cheeky grin announced in a sing songy voice, "Zinga Zangah zooo zoo and packet full of POOOOOO". And then dissolved into her own merriment.


I decided not to try anymore 'repeat after me' things this morning.

We watched clouds again.

Pelican Totems

Last night I dreamed of ancient Pelicans, drifting, soaring and manoevering as a group or flock in the cloudy sky. Their synchronicity mesmerized me as did their prehistoric appearance, the 'rawness' of their newly developed physical form and the adeptness of their flight. So Beautiful.
The dream had no soundtrack, all was silence and movement.

You'll just have to imagine this one in a cloudy sky... ;]

I find the energy of Pelican to be very 'familiar' to me. They are communal creatures, using formation flying to conserve each other's energy, hunting together to improve success, and they sense danger easily. Evidence of Pelican colonies goes back some 60million years and shows that they have the ability to sense change and move towards better and more beneficial locations. Apparently if you dream of Pelican it can mean you are in, or about to enter into, a fortuitous friendship or partnership with a person, or more likely several people :) Nice eh? :)

Sweet Dreams
xxx

Oooh sleek new posting capabilities on Blogger...noice ;)

Well not much has been going on, just everything. I'm pregnant with fourth child, wrigglin and a wigglin away happily. We're moving house in a few weeks time to the Gold Coast and we are currently in the 'clean-up, do-we-really-need-this?, why-did-we-keep-so-much-shyte?' phase. Its cathartic and cleansing...

The kids have all had a bout of Spring cleansing as well, each being ill for a few days in turn over the space of the last three weeks or so. Considerate of them not to all get sick at once. I've figured out that Wil doesn't cough when he stands on his head. Makes for interesting career choices...but I'm sure he'll come good once he's got the nerves in check. Charlotte is a master craftsperson now, knocking out one or more amazing things per week, and Angelina has hit the phase of 'complete-meltdowns', which we are currently moving through with breathing techniques and lots of 'activities'. SEEMS to be working when I have the energy to keep at it.

Been busy with the different friends and outings through the natural learning groups we attend, and while its so so so nourishing to make connections like this, its also a form of socialising which I need more than the children sometimes. :) But they have a 'group of friends' now, and I cherish that, even if it does take a lot of Time out of the week and keeps me from seeing my own family sometimes, the children feel the time with family is all the more precious and looked forward to as much as time with their mates. Its a win-win situation as they say.


More soon when we get photos of the new house :)

Sparkly Things
Nette
xx

Are we 'living online' a little too much?

I was considering the other day that my journalling has been quite lacking in the last couple of years. Obviously, new baby did have something to do with that, but I pushed aside the responsibility of the monthly newsletter to provide me with more time to create, be with the children, home-educate, etc...and then,...where is this life being recorded?
Just to prove that Facebook CAN suck the creativity out of you before you notice where its gone....these are a collection of some of my posts on Facebook over the last couple of months only....it was eye-opening for me to see the kind of 'affirmation gold' and snippets of life I wasn't journalling anymore.


Gratitude: When I feel crappy, weak or irritated it makes me think of when I'm happy, strong and calm :) And I think to myself, "I won't always feel this crappy,...soon I feel good again", and instantly I'm looking forward to feeling great.

Om is Divine Connection... :)


There is sincerely so much to be grateful for...I wonder why I didn't do this earlier :) perhaps I was stuck in the 'observation deck' of my ivory tower ;))

What crazy and amazing thing have you got planned for me today world? :)


Ice cold air
Nips at my toes
like small fish


Sparkly lights,
fall on my eyes,
like Blessings.

Mind Yoga for today: Immerse yourself in memories of what you daydreamed as a child. Child-Mind gifts :}

William has been writing and trying to spell and do his letters nicely...overheard this in the backseat today from Wil to Charlie, "Hey Charlie? see that 'S' I just did?? yeah, nice isn't it...its a really good 'S' hey..." Makes me think of 'Strongbad'...I think they are watching too much YouTube... ;]

"I am Abundant with Knowledge and Solutions"

"Everything I no longer need makes its way easily out of my Life, in Perfect Ways"

"I have all the Time to do anything I want to"

"I think therefore I draw"

 All my art is an expression of something within, and a reflection of it too...

Listening to Rob take care of Angelina tonight and thought, 'Here's one of the few things you never thought you'd hear yourself say, ... until you have a baby'. "Just sit there and finish quietly so I can wipe your bum" Parenthood GOLD...

"My body always knows what's best for me right now."

Just read David Wolfe's post and was thinking 'man, this dude is nearly as busy as I am!' :)) and I'm still motoring on on a Saturday afternoon!! woohoo, life rolls and rocks and wobbles and rights... ;D

Swollen with the realisation of Bliss...what a good place for my Mind to reside at.

Barefoot, by the seaside, virtually ALL day. Fricken fantastique!

Summer and AJ were bickering yesterday and Nicholas calmly said to them "be peace...be in harmony"....he told me later that he got that expression from Wil. Nicholas has obviously picked up on Wil's harmony too as he has been calmer since we last saw you. (amazing!)

Wil put a Pirate (temporary) treasure chest tattoo on Angelina's bum today....what will they get up to when they're older???!

Wil just wrote a whole letter to his new friend, without prompting, without supervision, and it just looks great :) He put it in the bottle he found at the beach yesterday and called it his 'message in a bottle', ("you know Mum?..like the song?", "yeah, I know the song Wil..thanks")

"I now choose to embrace Beautiful Change and invite New Experiences into my Life in Perfect Ways"

"When Honesty is shared, it blooms profoundly, encompassing all of those who wish to embrace it."
...because we're all here with this thing called reality trying to bend it to our perspective. Sometimes we bend so hard it flips back up in our faces with a resounding *smack!*

'The world turns, and groans, and stretches, shaking the land and the sea, as it has always done as it always will be. That we exist here on this planet, on its orbit in this position from the Sun, is a feat of immense Perfection. Peace to the Beings moving to another place, another space, and compassion to those in the unknowing, in grief and feeling Loss'

"Our Perception of any space alters the events that occur within it. Because of this the way we create our spaces; and for us in this reality, our immediate living spaces and environment, has a huge impact upon our health, wealth and happiness"

"If I am here now, it is because I am fulfilling and infinite plan of Being. Within this Life I can be immensely Powerful, Compassionate and completely in control of my Emotions and Actions. I can do whatever I want and have whatever I want. It is all here to be gifted towards my Life. I am Abundance. I am Perfection. I am the Perfect Me." notes, 7.3.2011

Dragonfly Wings, Moss, Green, Mist, Old Bark, Lichen, pale sunlight and a pervading sense of Quiet...

... just sitting back, allowing things to unfold, as they do...

* We are Infinitely Powerful *




Jannette Tibbs ‎"The feeling of being hurried is not usually the result of living a full life and having no time. It is on the contrary born of a vague fear that we are wasting our life. When we do not do the one thing we ought to do, we have no time for anything else -- we are the busiest people in the world." -Eric Hoffer, philosopher and author (1902-1983)

 

 

Why Facebook Sucks...

Well, it kinda DOES!

I just watched a powerful, ... seemingly innocuous, film today about a mother recording each day of her child's life via photographs. It was inspired by her own sister's project to be grateful for *something* for a whole year, and record it. That project is now to become a documentary called simply '365 Grateful'. You should probably check it out...its inspiring of course.

The film of snapshots is on Gregarious Peach blogsite (you know how to search...go surf) and it is poignant, simple, honest and the accompanying post is just gold. Gold. In her blogpost she describes how *life* is with young babies, with a head full of ideas, and little Beings asking for attention. She says quite pointedly that she gets angry at her children for the stupid things like interrupting her internet surfing waste time, and not being able to progress thoughts and ideas into any sort of fruition, and that just really struck home for me. I wept.

My life may seem like a glorious non-stop honouring of 'the child' and creativity, freedom and a sort of radicalisation of life in comparison to how other people are living it, and to an extent, yes, it is. Yet am I being honest about my life to Me? Am I understanding that *the dream* and the reality are two separate entities? Because to be honest, they sometimes combine, which makes coming out of *the dream* always a jarring and unpleasant experience. One moment I'm floating on a harmony cloud, children happy, contented, animated, loving, sharing, collective,... and then 'splat'...face down in poo! Can I choose to make *the dream* my reality and just stay there for the most part? occasionally popping into reality to pay the rent and a few utilities, travel some highway and fulfill a certain set of obligations?

'Tree of Youth' Pencil on cartridge, 1990-1991, Jannette Tibbs

 There's a crack in the wall made with time and age,... go, climb through it...

That's my Dream ;}

Facebook can be a time waster, and I thought as much about blogging at first, but now I use it as an online journal, and that just makes it flow so much easier. My children and their experience of me as their mother, helper, teacher and student feels like the most important and rewarding thing I can do as a Being. I can't think of anything; no career, vocation or belief that would surpass my commitment to their happiness, and yet, when I've been searching, looking, reading, writing or 'networking', I've somehow convinced myself that they don't require my attention. It's utter bullshit.

Not like I'm having *me time* with a candleight soak in a Lavender Oil and Oatmeal bath...in which case I'd probably share it with Angelina Petal anyway....BUT, you know? the video of Gregarious Peach just slammed home how fleeting this time is with the children and how very very very very very very precious it IS. I've constructed a life with my children, home-educating, radical parenting, etc... to allow me to completely immerse myself in the life I wish for, and then I go and piss a good amount of it away trolling the 'net. How stupid can I act?

So stuff it all, I'm signing off. I think I may give it all in, this 'social networking', and just Live.
Ciao!
Love you!
Bye!
xxx
Mwah!!!

Cellular Communication

ah yes, it is possible of course.

Last night/early this morning, I lapsed into a dream about the long dreaded suntanned dude that was in the 'historical' dream of mine. This time I met him at the campfire, early in the morning, the cold was biting the skin and he was sitting on a log next to the firepit, prodding the embers to life. I sit beside him, my arms crossed in front of me, hands under my armpits, gathering all the warmth I can from my body. He acknowledges me without looking my way, I just sense the hello from his innerself to mine.

He asks me without words to rub Cedarwood oil into the dreads, and his scalp. I can tell he's been irritated by itches. I begin, and can feel the rough yet soft texture of each dreadlock. They are golden brown with flecks of sun kissed bright gold. I love his hair, its so cool, and makes me smile. But I'm still cold and my teeth begin to chatter. My nose feels like an iceblock. The Cedarwood aroma fills my senses and I continue to massage it into the skin of his scalp.

Then my innerself begins to speak to his. A blooming of real Love, of complete acknowledgment, of...acceptance in Joy of being together. For a flicker of a moment, the human background intervenes and shows a danger message. 'don't get too close, that's when people hurt each other'. but it is now disregarded. Trust in my cellular knowledge is stronger. I know the inner whirrings of my electrons' language and mine are speaking to his, and his to mine. Language spoken out loud is not necessary, in fact, with us it seems it would break the continuity of comprehending who we are to each other.

I am drawn into the space made with his arms, as he sits in front of the fire. The blood warmth of his skin through the cloth of his shirt melts into my cold body, warming and soothing and comforting. I feel like I am glowing with heat and light and love. My back against his chest and his head beside mine, his chin on my shoulder, lips on my cheek. The world is perfect at daybreak. Our fire is growing and the heat from it is warming our legs. Upward there is a blushing sky speaking of rain that day and the birds are quiet.

We haven't spoken a word yet so much has been communicated.

Remembering Places of Green

There's a dip in the road
on the way to my Grandmother's house
where the Willow tree bends its
long long leaves, on long long branches
down over the charcoal bitumen
Its trunk stuck deep into the creek bank mud
anchored well against the rush of
thunderstorm swellings
that spill over the road, making a river
the muddy wash and pebbles and stones
green fern, green algae, green leaves
in the dip in the road
on the way to my Grandmother's house.

We had two pine trees
out the front of my house
that had dark, black bark, rough and nubbly
it tore at my skin as I climbed
and my dress was far to good for climbing
but my bare feet gripped the trunk
and I could get up to the branches
by jumping up on the rocks
covered in lichen stains
where we'd catch green tree frogs
tiny ones, that skipped over my skin
onto my dress, to rest in my palm
then we'd scratch the bark off to let the
sap flow, and collect the amber gooey
to dry and use as treasure
from the pine trees
that were at the front of my house.

The rainforest was my favourite trip
because of the walk down the tracks
where I had to wear 'good shoes'
so they could get muddy
and then I could clean off
the rich red sludge

from the walk down the tracks
through the rainforest.

My tree was a 'leopard tree'
at the corner of the concrete slab
my Dad had layed years ago
next to the natural spring
at the back of our yard, near the fence
where I played with my brother's
cars and trucks and animals
making garages and houses in the
hollows of the tree roots
digging out the rich black and red soil
making roads with my spade
under my leopard tree
at the corner of the concrete slab.

The field that had clover patches with buzzing bees
and sweet smelling grass across the road
often threshed by the old man and
his loud, smelly tractor
where we'd make 'houses' of hay
not noticing that we'd scared
the black and brown snakes away
with our raucous playing,
racing the tricycle around,
"yahooing and carrying on" as
my parents used to say when
we came home from playing
on the field with clover patches and buzzing bees
and sweet smelling grass across the road.

Spirit Rescues

I've been dreaming up a storm since the Eclipse. MonDieu! The night of the flooding in Grantham I was 'hooned' into a vision. I had been deliberately not meditating because of all the calling out that was happening. I'd overwhelmed, so needed to step back and sort out home. Just on the edge of sleep someone swooped in and took me flying.

I do know I felt slightly irritated, adventurous, and curious as to why they'd done this kind of thing, coming in and extracting me uninvited. There was Purpose in this, but I didn't feel confident I was up to it. I relaxed, trusted in them, and went into the vision.

Taken to a highpoint in the sky overlooking the flooded landscape at the edge of sunset. The light peeping through a break of cloud on the horizon I saw the world as islands in water. Glinting light. Muddy colours and green everywhere. I saw rainbow shapes zooming up, turning, surveying and then swooping down quickly to the water. The savage rushing shown to me, but I know I wasn't near it, I was up high and safe. What where these rainbows doing? I looked and looked. One of them looked back to me, eyes met, and then I was 'on board' getting the 'birds-eye-view'. Down swiftly to the torrent, branches, trees, mud, things, and then the body. Broken and limp, caught in debris. Then, Pink and Violet 'fuzz' floating. I look down and see it caught in rainbow arms, or arm like shapes, as we soared higher and higher above it all.

Then the emotion. Then the feeling of utter exhaustion, utter depleted human energy, utter confusion. Rainbow shapes soothing the Pink and Violet fuzzy things. A retreat into slumber for it. A relaxing into the next journey.

I was being shown a Spirit Rescue.

So grateful. So overwhelmed with gratitude for being shown this thing that had been on my Mind and in my Heart. "who looks after the babies and the ones who aren't aware when they die? who shows them the way on?"

They are looked after. They are held in the arms of Angels and moved forward towards their New.

Solar Eclipse Dreams - White Spider and Webs

Ok, so a few months ago during 2010, I had a succession of spider related dreams.

(I should be writing up a report for a client but w t h...I want to do this instead, seems like that kind of day where things that 'should be' done are going to get shoved to the back of the line!)

This dream was sort of short, and it was set in my current house, in my current bedroom, so it was quite trippy to wake up. In this dream I was waking up in my bedroom, so I had this sense of confusion and displacement in Time when I actually did wake up 'for real'.

I am sleeping fitfully, and envisioning spiders in my dream (inside my dream) which wake me up. As I sit up in bed finally, ... I've tossed and turned for a while beforehand, ... I brush my head with my hands and something light and feathery is felt on the back of my hand as I run it through my hair.

The morning light shows me this infinitely delicate open weave web, strung above my bed, all the way across the ceiling of my room. Its pearly bright white. Just brilliant. I'm inbetween freaking out about the spider that's made this and completely in awe of how beautiful it is. I get up slowly stroking the fine sticky weave, and move around to the door of the bedroom.

I see a white spider in the web, and its not so big at all, so I leave it, and watch its shiny back, like a crab's shell. It fascinates me. Then a caramel coloured spider moves out of the 'funnel' in the web, and this one starts to move towards me at the door of the room. I see myself squash it, but it doesn't die. Then I'm freeze framing back to the same point where I see it emerge from the funnel of the web that's oddly come down right next to the bed in the middle of the floor, and each time I get the choice to watch it, move, see where it goes,...or kill it. This repeats and repeats. Each option opening to me again and again.

I wake up (for real) and feel quite odd not to see my spider web festoon above the bed.
Angelina is wailing for attention (at times she wakes up noisily) and even so, I'm drawn to the spot on the other side of the bed where the caramel coloured spider was. Its not there, there is nothing here but my bedroom, and the sweaty skin of a turbulent night.

frost covered webs in my mother-in-laws garden...she sent me these before solstice 2010,    and I thought they were just beautiful :) This is about the look of the webs that were festooned above the bed, but the web there was all one big one, with a funnel coming down to the floor on one side of the bed...

I've been struggling with the presumption that money equals waste. That people with lots of money waste it on crappy things like champagne and clothes, silly parties for their children where they don't interact with them, its all just to impress other people. Wealth isn't that to me, but I'm equating wealthy life with money, and money with wealthy life. And so if I eschew a money filled life I subconsciously fulfill my own sense of integrity, in a very fuqd way. Subconscious sabotage of the Wealth manifestation. I kill that caramel coloured spider just because its not 'pure white', and I'm even slightly worried about integrity too.
Webs are significant and that they are so big is also significant. I feel like I  am in a constant state of creation, preparation, action and yet not completing things. It all looks beautiful, but its busy and time consuming. I want to get to the place where the spider finishes her web, sits back to catch a few flies to feast on, and mate with the next available male that wanders around. ;]

The new mantra for 2011 for Chinut

This is taken from Mystic Medusa's Thrive Guide for 2011...she's brill :)
As an Aquarian, Scorpio Rising...I just need as much hoodoo as I can functionally take in and utilise. Anyone got some spare memory banks for a brain?

Solar Eclipse Dreams - Raggedy Hippy Guide

Have to write this down even though it doesn't seem to want to fade ...

In this dream I am in a country town in a time past, but it felt like somewhere just a bit further out from 'suburbia'. There were still lots of wooden houses, sheds and buildings that kind of 'homestead' like construction, and the people looked like they were 19th Century Australian immigrants. All homespun cotton and thick wool britches. The 'town' itself was tiny and quiet. Just a few streets with only one two storey building 'down the road' a bit. It was out of my sight but I knew it was there. The gum trees were still around. The land hand not been cleared, and the houses where slat shaks here and there, joined by dirt roads.

What clearly comes to mind is the texture of the roads. They are pathways about a two carts wide, and there are semi dried tracks all the way through them...as if it had rained hard a day or two ago, and the earth was drying out to a travelling ability for people and carts.

I meet up with some people and find they are friends. We chat, talk about travelling somewhere for something. The town is very quiet, these are the only people I see and they are standing under the awning of their shak. There is no-one in the street. As I turn to walk away I am for some unknown reason feeling like I need to get out of there quickly. Urgency begins to take over and I examine a white drawstring sack I've loaded up with stuff. Lolling that onto my back I trudge up the road and into the bush. The weather is hot and sunny, and I look forward to trees covering the road so I can get some shade, but as I walk the sun beats down on me, heating me, my skin seems to burn beneath my cotton shirt.

Raggedy Hippy Guide meets me there. He's kind of intensely perfect. His beard is short but his hair is long and caught up here and there with knots and ties. He's even got it shoved up under his hat which at first I think is like a Derby style, but when I get closer to him I see its a bashed up thing, torn and sun bleached. We greet each other, he lifts his hand to point at a coach on the road. Its full of beautiful dresses, chiffony things, with rouches and frills, rosettes and petticoats. Real girly stuf. The coach does not seem to have anyone about it. There are other things in there and we seem to put some of the smaller items in our bags.

The owners or protectors of the coach have been laying in wait, hiding, and then they pounce on us. We are chased and move up the road, through the bushland to a building. I think its an abandoned barn. We hide and time passes. We have moved on up the road to a small creek. My mind is asking why the trap was set. I can't understand it, but its not important anymore.

The creek place looks like a dip in the road near a park Mum and Dad used to take me to with the family when I was very little. The creek would often flood and we would be told not to go near it. We'd of course go down to have a look before coming back to the park to play cricket on the road strip. It was always a quiet park and we always had it to ourselves.

At the creek, Raggedy Hippy Guide washes and bathes in the water. I do too. We're so filthy and muddy, sweaty and hot, with red earth in all our clothes and in our hair, stuck into our pores, under our nails, in our ears. It takes ages to clean up. We work at our cleansing then we simply make love. This is my Guide for the rest of the journey I am told. He's with me, we're together now. That's it.

The blissful image of us lying naked on the creek bank, a bed of reeds underneath us and our washed clothes hung on plants and trees surrounding us. A fire crackles nearby and the sun is setting making a serene display of blue and orange. I think of how blue his eyes are, how nicely his dark dark hair goes with them, and this curly smile too. He sighs and lays back. And I fall asleep again, waking up in this life here now.

What are we, ... really.

I've come through an amazing few months of intense busyness.

On the face of it I've been plugging away, using my knowledge and insight, my talent and ability to produce 'work' that other people find valuable. This is all good. Below, inside, where the blood flows. synapses snap and the sparkles are hidden, there's been a lot going on.

Seems we're all trying to find out what we are here for, who we are, what we 'need to do', 'how to' get ahead, avoid this or that, get this or that, accomplish, succeed, survive, thrive. And some of us just want a day with a decent pot of tea and some grass to walk on.

Being an Aquarian I do love to source Knowledge and be the source for anyone else.
Being a Rat I love to accumulate and look after my family as I perceive 'family' to be. Rats are pretty sociable.
If I was to psycho analyse (oh heaven forbid) myself, with regard to what I know of these celestial associations, I may intimate that my need for information and the subsequent storing of it, 'hoarding' would be more correct, is directly related to the birth connections of the galaxy I am in.

Thinking more on that I'd expect my Mind to trip into the scientific aspects of 'life on earth' and reason that we are the only known conscious life form around these parts...and what is it about Earth that is special enough to hold us so lovingly in her arms?, so far in space, so cold 'outside' and yet here we are, warm in her embrace. "A powerful Force of Love is keeping us here" said Daniel Vitalis in his latest talk about Water and its significance on this planet, and its molecular make up that is present throughout 'space' as we know it. ("It's Life, Jim..." etc) He gave a good summary of the miracle of our existence, all associated with Water. It made me ponder the effort I put into 'the business', and the connections to quite desperate people that come from those associations.

And so it goes round. The swing from hoping fervently that life is not as futile as I feel it to be, to great euphoria and blissful contentment from just viewing a leaf outside. I think I'm feeling resonances from other people's disappointment, despondency, lack of direction and such. It doesn't feel like it comes from me...I don't 'like' that way of thinking, and it seems like my head is getting invaded with sentences and phrases of utter helplessness. I get angry and I rail at it. That kind of defeatest talk gets my blood going, makes my eyes water and my heart sore too. I have the guiltiest feeling of considerable elistism too. I despise a weakness, a perceived weakness, but, I despise it in myself just as fervently as I do in others. I guess that's where the compassion grows from. One day I hope it takes over.

I wrote in my diary today 'Do you act like the foods you eat' thinking I'll do a blogpost about factory food and processing etc for HTC..., but what I think I meant was, 'Do I resonate what I consume?'
Has this scryingfest of the last few months made me resonate a frequency of doubt and solution searching? is there a layer of fear in this kind of behaviour? do I even want to do it anymore??

Happy 2011,.. whoopee.
Looking forward to Clarity, Integrity, Release and Abundance in Beautiful Forms.
:)
Life's good really. Life's great actually. Beautiful children, connections to great people, loving family, stimulation, ascension :) and all the things that make a life 'go on'.