0 comments on “13 years ago today…”

13 years ago today…



13 years ago, today, I gave birth for the first time. I became a mother. I became the guardian for a little human. A tiny (although he was anything but) little human.

When I was younger, if you asked me if I was having children, I said, flat out, every time..”NO”.

I didn’t dream about being a wife and mother.

I didn’t plan weddings, or baby names or imagine my life as a mother.

I didn’t have white picket fence dreams or soccer mum-ing or dance mum-ing.

I honestly didn’t have it on my cards.

I was going to have 3 dogs. Golden retrievers. And that would be my family.

0 comments on “When it hurts, can you let it hurt?”

When it hurts, can you let it hurt?

Untitled design-13

It’s January, and I like to reflect in January…and dream.

Today was more reflection that it was dreaming.

2014 through to 2017 were some of the roughest years I have ever experienced.

I was so deep in the rumble of pain for a lot of it, and yet, on the outside, you might not have even known.

That is the thing about survival patterns.

Patterns we repeat to survive.

I’m certainly not the first to have a rough childhood, and yet, on the other side of all the healing work I have done, I can see that it really wasn’t that bad.

But the thoughts I had about it, the habits I had developed because of it…that is what made it “bad”.

My survival patterns, the ones that I had developed to survive the abuse, the neglect, the rejection, the chaos, are exactly that. Patterns.

Ways of behaving.

And it wasn’t until I REALLY examined the patterns and expressed the TRUTH about what I felt, did things start to shift.


Much to my pleasure, 2018 was a LOT less filled with pain. And yet, there was still some significant hurt in there. Probably more than I was willing to admit.

For the last 6 months, immersed deeply in Emotional Anatomy Practitionertraining, I was forced (not literally..more like ready) to face some of the really tough and challenging stories I still had running around in my head. And as I now know intimately, were showing up in my body as well.

Because here is the thing. What I think about repeatedly, show up in my body. What I believe, shows up in my body. What I choose…you guessed it, shows up in my body.

Honestly, I am still processing a lot of what showed up for me. And I am so chuffed that I have skills to do that.

To learn and grow. And as a result, allow my body to catch up.

But here is the point of all of this really.

When we hurt, we must let our bodies hurt.

When we are sad, we must allow our bodies to be sad.

When we feel betrayed, or disappointed or left out, or down….we must allow ourselves to feel it.

Emotions are not felt in the head. You don’t think emotions. You FEEL them.

And, when we don’t, they store. In our tissue. In our muscles. In our bones.

It’s like water that has been damed. And when we don’t release it, it spills over and floods everything else.

Honestly, I am still adjusting to this new way of being.

Of accepting my sensitivity and having to set some healthy boundaries.

I’m still adjusting to friendships breaking down and falling away.

But, I am committed to the work. For my body. For my mind.

AND I am committed to the work of Emotional Anatomy.

As of February, that will be my main focus.

To grow and build my Emotional Anatomy practice.

I hope you can attend a seminar or workshop about it this year. I’d so love to see you there.

I’d love for you to know more about your body and what it is communicating. And what it is expressing.

Really, I’d just love to see you.

Big love

0 comments on “”

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1 comment on “I dropped the last few balls today…..”

I dropped the last few balls today…..

Lately I feel like I have been writing and talking a lot about this life busy thing.

And today, I was completely schooled by life. Again.

It’s the end of the school year, and as a result there are a bajillion school things to remember.

Presentation nights. Dance nights. Drama things. Class parties. Performances. Play dates for the kids. And all the usual things that go with being a parent of three young-is kids.

This week however, I really noticed the strain. The tension. The push and pull.

0 comments on “All in a Mum Life”

All in a Mum Life

Mum life is FULL ON.

Today as I was removing nits from one of our childs hair I was wondering what on earth I was doing before I had children (sorry if you are now scratching your head). And thinking how lucky we are with having 3 kids to have not had more incidents of them (this is the second only time).

Recently, hubby and I have done some ‘re-structuring’ in our home environment since he took a job where the head office is a two and half plane trip away.

adult-annoyed-anxiety-133021.jpgIt means he is home A LOT and when he isn’t at home he is travelling to head office. It means that I have had to move some of my work off site, be flexible in my approach to working from home.

Which is still evolving.

It also means that he has taken a pay cut. A cut that will be worth it in the long run, but a cut none-the-less that effects the here and now.

It has meant that I have had to be more mindful of where our money goes and it has also brought up in me the possibility that I may need another income stream.

Those of you who know me, know that for the last 7 years I have been studying and researching and pottering and playing and sharing what I love.

Well, things are calling me to do more of the work I love, serve more people and get on with helping heal the stuff that folks are really struggling with.

But I am a mum first. Today alone I attended the school watch child #2 do one of the most brave things. Delivering a speech in front of the junior school, with no notes, about why she is a great leader.

I was gobsmacked. Captivated. And so incredibly proud. I felt like I was on a bit of a high. Like after listening to an inspirational speaker!

Then, later that afternoon I am de-lousing another child. Washing all the things. And this week is a slow week because the girls have finished up dancing.

This mum job is incredibly undervalued. I know I undervalued it.

Recently as I put together a new resume, it occurred to me how many skills I have accrued being a mother, that even as a nurse I wasn’t exposed to.

But on a resume, “mum” doesn’t look too shiny.

But seriously, what a load of shit.

Because I had kids, I have had to face some of THE most challenging situations. And because of them, well, I have had to GROW THE FUCK UP.

Because of them, I have had to learn about my feelings. About how I communicate. About loss. About love. I have learnt so much from them, and by being a parent.

Not to mention all the other skills I have mastered (like being an uber driver) since becoming a parent!

And seriously, without them I wouldn’t have found my way to the work I enjoy the most.

But while I get that off the ground (re-brand and the like for next year), I am contemplating taking another job to increase our family income.

I am feeling particularly vulnerable about this. And concerned about how to juggle all the things, given I have been able to manage my own schedule for the last few years.

I’m telling you all this, because I want you to see behind the scenes. I want you to know that living a passionate and purpose driven life is not all rainbows and unicorns. It isn’t all ‘follow your dreams and it will all work out miraculously’.

Following your dreams is going to have so many obstacles. Being mum has it’s obstacles. Just getting through the day has it’s obstacles!

This is but the human experience! How exciting right??

I’m in it for the long game.

I have to ask for support when I need it.

I have to be kind to myself.

I have to live in accordance with what is most important to me.

I have to choose what is right for me.

I wonder what I will learn.

I wonder who I will meet.

I wonder where it will take me.

If you have a dream or an unrelenting passion that wont seem to stop pestering, please follow it. It isn’t a straight line. It is an up and down and round and around ride. But it is an adventure worth taking.

Until next we meet, keep showing up, keep being brave, keep sharing beautiful you.


P.s I am posting this in between picking one of the kids up from dance tuition, dropping another one at karate and picking the other one up from karate and dropping the other one off then to pick them up again!

All in a mum life!


There are still some spaces for the upcoming BUSY MUMMA MINI FOREST RETREAT. I’d love to share the space with people who get what it feels like to be all the things, seemingly all of the time. We’re going to get rid of some bullshit stories, and get in touch with our soul mumma who might have been shoved to the side while we are busy being busy mumma. GO HERE if you’d like to come along.

0 comments on “I Wasn’t Ready for the Flood! Well, That’s Not True…”

I Wasn’t Ready for the Flood! Well, That’s Not True…

It’s September! Spring has sprung! Are you feeling the spring clean vibe?

I’ve been cleaning out a lot of old stuff. Some of it kind of forced, after I flooded our house last week. I left the tap on in the laundry! With the plug in! I mean! Come on!

I intended to soak the stuff my daughter has spewed on the night before, after she was sick from a coughing fit. She has pneumonia! She’s such a little trooper though. Resting when she needs it. And moving when she feels it.

I was also intending to throw in the shirt that our puppy had shit on that morning. Yep. That was a fun little adventure.

Anyway, I threw them in the sink with the plug in and the tap running. I went out to hang out the washing quickly then turn the tap off. It’s a big sink so I knew it would take a while.

I’m easily distracted. Ask anyone who knows me. “Oh, what is that shiny object over there…must go and investigate”. “Oh, someone needs help, yep, I’m there”.

Well, this morning, I was just about finished having out the washing and I got distracted by the dog eating my tree and went to take the branch out of his mouth. That took me down the other end of the house. While there, my eldest daughter asked me to help her with a creative project. Oooo, creative project. You need help! Ah yeah! Okay!

All the while the tap still running.

We have a reasonably large house, and the laundry is down the other end of the house. So I can’t hear anything from the main part of the house.

For about an hour and a half, the tap ran. Full tilt. And ran, and ran and ran!

Just before school pick up time, I remembered I had to hang out our washed doona cover that was in the washing machine. Thought I’d better just rip down and hang that out before heading off to get our son.

As I walked down the hall, I heard trickling water, that didn’t sound like the washing machine! From there, everything is a little bit of a slow motion blur!

Although, in surround sound, I heard it under foot! It was loud!

Holy shit!

It was under the floorboards, and with each step was squelching up between the boards! Bubbling, swooshing. Holy shit!

It had gone into the kids rooms, soaked the carpets, ran into the storage cupboards, and into the kids bathroom…..it was all epically wet!

I pulled out all of the towels that we own and enlisted the help of the kids to mop it all up. Walk up and down the length of the affected area encouraging the squelchy water to come out.

A few days on, and the carpet is dried (thank you for not being humid mother nature) and the floor boards…well, time will tell!

I’m not just telling you this story just because it is funny and could even be a little dramatic. As much as it is. And really, this story would be enough. But the thing about stories, is for me, there is always something to learn. For me. For us.

So, heres the real reason I am sharing this story. I’m telling you because last weekend I attended the intake weekend for the next course I am undertaking.

To say it was epic, is well, and understatement.

The course is Emotional Anatomy. And it is a fusion of all the things I love. Eastern philosophy, western science. Chakras, anatomy, Ayurveda. I was in my happy place. Although, because of some of the processes, you might not have seen that. I cried a bit! Ok, a lot. In front of all the people. More than I would have expected. Well, no. That isn’t true. I knew that I was there to explore some of the plugs! To see where I was blocked.

It felt like swell of emotion and I felt totally blindsided by it. Like, “where is this coming from?”. And I couldn’t even articulate what it was. It was just there. Bubbling over. It made me laugh. Literally. Laughing through the tears!

We have assignments to do and report back to our group via a facebook page. And I set the assignment for me to get some clarity about the waves of emotion. The spills of tears.

Nothing much had come to me. Even in my meditations!

Then, the day I had set to share the information, the floor floods!

Water everywhere!


So what was the flood leading me to?

A few things actually. For me.

Firstly, when something happens that needs attention, emotional attention, how often am I distracted with some other thing. Something to do with the kids, or the family, or the dog or the…..name your distraction really.

And so, that emotion gets plugged up. I had some pretty deep plugs. But I knew that.

That stuff, it’s energy. Emotion is energy in motion right? So it is always moving. Until we unplug it.

During emotional anatomy, I was able to witness where I have stored emotion in my body. The blockages. And we have only just begun.

The water flooding reminded me that it is vital to allow the emotion to move. If I don’t it will store up and then when it has no where else to go, it will uncontrollably overflow.

It will go under the foundations, and find it’s way into other rooms as well. And so what once should have been confined to the sink, was now in the bedrooms, the bathrooms and the cupboards. Affecting things that really didnt need to be impacted.

So, it kind of makes sense to me, that when we have emotional experiences but can’t really lock it on to a specific event, or thing, it is probably because we have had it plugged up for so long and now the emotion is showing up in other rooms.

What do we do?

Stop the tap. Pull the plug. And get cleaning up!

We get radically honest about how we feel. All the time. And we find a healthy way for us to move it. But it isn’t with the head. There has to be a physical element to it. Writing. Running. Yoga. Body work. Massage. Scream, cry, move.

But no shutting down. Or if you are a massive shutter-downer like me, then shutting down a little less. Or if you can’t do that, just noticing you are shutting down changes the energy! Shutting down is putting the plug in.

So, if you are going through something right now, and you feel like it is too big and overwhelming, oh how I know that space. It can feel so scary that you wonder how you will manage. I know you want it to go away. I know you wish it wasn’t happening. I know you are waving your fist at the universe, shouting “come on, what the hell”…..

Allow the feelings to be there.

Scared? I bet you are. So, lets allow it. Angry? You have every right to be. Allow it. Sad? Hell yes human! Allow it. Excited? Damn straight! Allow it. Energised? Bring it! Allow it!

Allow it all.
It will take you to places you never expected. And while it might seem so strange and even makes no sense…allow it sweet one.

I use writing to transform a lot of my energy. I also use music and shaking my arms. Like the floppy floppy scarecrow.

But I find the biggest help for me is to speak to someone who I feel completely safe with, who isn’t scared of my emotions. Who doesn’t judge their own emotions. And doesn’t judge mine. Who doesn’t need to fix it. Who can just help me be in the emotion. Ironically, it is one of my super powers to be in it with others…mostly!! I make a living out of it! Funny how that works really!

We teach what we most need to learn.

Until next we meet, keep being brave. Keep showing up. Keep sharing beautiful you.
0 comments on “It’s ending & not what I expected…..”

It’s ending & not what I expected…..

It’s drawing to the end…

I’m just about to finish my last assignment for the 12 week Write into Light writing course with Martha Beck. Yes, you know how I feel about Martha.

In the last year or so, I have been drawn to writing, more and more. Wanting to express more in that form. So much so, I committed to writing a book.

During one of the Soul Visioning sessions I offer, this course came to me, to share with the receiver. At the time, it didn’t even occur to me that I might be the one who actually does the course.

I signed up at a time that I felt more and more drawn to write. And it is Martha, and well, I am a sucker for spending time with her. I find just being around her energy, even though it is online, I feel more at home in myself.

But if I am completely honest, I signed up because I felt lost on my writing journey. I was sure that my writing was shit and no one wanted to read it and there are so many better writers than me. “Just read Martha’s stuff” I would replay over and over again.

I went in thinking the course would maybe give me that last bit of information to actually trust myself and my ability to write. To finally get this book finished. Maybe I would turn over that one last rock and find the magic key to unlock the hidden world where writing would be effortless and I’d write the book in a week.

That didn’t happen.

In fact, I would go so far as to say, it isn’t a writing course at all.

I know right.

I spent money on a course that was promoted as a writing course. I signed up trusting Martha. Given she is one of my fave writers. One of my fave mentors.

I’d committed to 12 weeks, putting most other distractions aside. And immersing into the space of writing. Chest puffed out. “After this course, I will be an epic writer and all writing there after will be New York best seller material”.

Expectations right?

That didn’t happen.

Yet, of all the courses I have done along the way, this was one of the most transformational.

But not in big ‘rah rah’ motivational kind of way. A more subtle, gentle and deeply connected kind of way.

Be the truth.

Be the change.

Be the light.

The course was broken up into those 3 sections.

Each and every week we had quests to go on. Writing quests.

Soon into the course I realised that writing was what I call, “the hide behind”. It made me chuckle. “Ha, of course it is”.

Humans, in order to explore the truths that lay within, sometimes they need a psychological shield. A “hide behind” I call it.

For example, some have a deep desire to connect with themselves on a deeper level, but don’t know that on a conscious level, so their soul chooses yoga. The soul calms the mind by letting the human believe they are going to “gain flexibility and relax a little bit”, because to declare “I want to connect with myself on a deeper level” is scary as hell y’all. And, not surprisingly, after a while, their initial flexibility story opens up to the bigger truth.

Well, this was the Write into Light writing course for me.

I went in, focussed totally on improving my writing. Hoping that I would find that one last thing that would make writing effortless and easy. That was the hide behind.

For 12 weeks, I did what I knew to do. I just followed the quests. I followed the next right thing. I committed to me.

I felt uncomfortable. I doubted myself at ever corner. I did draft after draft. I felt inspired. I asked for feedback. I gave feedback. I compared myself. I felt confident. I felt small. I met some amazing writers and humans. I felt like I belonged and I felt like an alien.

I was called to look at patterns and stories I make up about myself and life. I was challenged to edit and cut and re-word. I was tested with things I believed as truths but were actually monster lies.

As I am about to complete my last assignment I see now what I actually needed through this course (here is my second last if you want to have a read). 

The biggest thing for me, wasn’t another tool I picked up (even though Martha gives us a thousand), it was a reminder that everything I need, I already have.

And all I need to do, is to commit to myself. Over and over again. To sit with myself. Come home to myself. To listen to myself, both the monsters and the truth fairies. Over and over. Just like me in life.

I fall and I rise. Over and over. And again, and again.

It’s been a lifetime of gathering wayfinder tools, for me. To help me rise. And now, I spend my life enjoying the experience of sharing hat with others to help them rise.

What an exhale it is to see them all and to use them, for me.

*my inner cheer squad rise from the bleachers and cheer*

Let this be a reminder to you sweet one, that everything you need, you already have within you! You do. It isn’t dependent on how many courses you have done or books you have read or adventures you have been on (as cool as all that stuff is). It is you are a spark of unique light in this world. But maybe you have forgotten about that spark. Or haven’t seen it in a while. Perhaps you may just need a fellow wayfinder to remind you and mirror back to you that truth.

Those of you who have experience a Soul Visioning Quest with music and cards, or do one on one coaching with me, you will know that what you get is what your soul already knows to be true! All you needed was to be reminded. And what a beautiful gift that is. If you’d like one, you can go here to find them.

Here is to giving ourselves permission to be with ourselves and connect with the deep well of wisdom we all have…we have just forgotten about.

Until next we meet, be brave, keep showing up and share beautiful you!

Big love


5 comments on “The room I was most afraid of.”

The room I was most afraid of.

It seems a little hypocritical of me to write to you about stillness, because honestly, stillness and I are only really just becoming aquatinted. Like properly! 

For the longest time, stillness existed only as a room. A room with the door wide open, clean, light and fragrant. Open and spacious with wide windows and speckled light. And yet, with all it’s beauty, I felt like stillness might offer me beauty and then once I was in there, all hell would break loose and it would become a dark forest, like all the fairytales would have us see. 

I would walk past this room, time and time again, usually with arms filled with clothes for the laundry or I’d rush past on my way out the door, scurrying kids in front of me.

Sometimes I would stand near the doorway.

I’d stand there shallow breathing and sneak my head around the corner to catch a glimpse of the beauty, promising myself that after I had done ‘all the things’ and when I was ’emotionally prepared’ for what it may offer me, I would be able to retreat there. But still, I was afraid of what I might find!

Often the scent of stillness would sweep like a feather under my nose and I’d find myself lifting my head, eyes closed and I’d seem to lose control of my body finding myself drifting toward the room. Effortlessly floating on a warm river current.

Then, just before I cross the threshold, my eyes would open and start gasping inhaling water from the river, coughing and spluttering.

“Idiot! You don’t have time for stillness”, my mind whispers sinisterly, ‘There are far more important things to be doing than sitting in that room doing nothing for christ sake”. Louder and louder it tends to get. “Stillness is for other people who aren’t as busy as you”. And, “What does stillness really give you anyway, does it earn you any money?”

It wasn’t until several illnesses, a surgery and the potential fatal illness in our daughter compounding on top of each other, when I was shoved in the middle of my shoulder blades into this mysterious room of stillness. Tripping and stumbling as I was shoved repeatedly, I found myself flat on the floor looking up, unable to move. Literally. 

Stillness welcomed me, like I imagine the father of the prodigal daughter welcomed her. Arms were wide, welcoming me in,  like the dawn each morning as it welcomes the sun.

“Ive been waiting for you sweet one. Stay as long as you need”, whispered stillness. “You have much to find here that will fill your soul”. 

I’d been so afraid of stillness, for so so long. Scared she would share with me truths that once known, couldn’t be unknown. Afraid she would lure all my monsters to the fore and I would be taken down and defeated by the brutality that exists in the dark recesses. 

As I lay, unable to move, unable to fight, the monsters, they did come, just as I’d expected. And, interestingly  they went again. I watched them march in, stomping and threatening. My monsters are mean. Angry. And my monsters are timid and afraid. I watched them. I heard them. And just as stillness had offered me space to be, I so did to my monsters.

We sat, all together and soon, the monsters after roaring and snarling. But intriguingly, with some space, started to whimper and sob. And soon, they left.

Stillness smiled and I smiled back. She began to share her wisdom and I listened. She showed me truth. Truth that I was so afraid of, and yet when it was shown, freed me from my suffering. She shares a kind of wisdom that I believed was only available to the masters, the sages and the enlightened. 

Our culture is quick to look to someone else to tell us what is best for our life, when what is true, is that only I know what is best for mine and you know what is best for you. Only many of us have forgotten how to follow the breadcrumbs home to our truths.

Stillness waits now, not just in a room, but in the next step I take in front of me. Beside me when I turn to look at the trees. Above me as I gaze at the sky. On me, as I feel the clothes on my skin. She is everywhere and invites me to be with her. To stay for a while. And when I listen, I find what I seek and sometimes I don’t.

But there is something that is magical about stillness and her wise presence. Something that adds a vibrancy to my experience, one that I was really skeptical about. I notice I am less agitated when I spend time with her and more calm and more….aware of what is good for me.

I notice that when I spend time in stillness, things that trouble me, seem to drift away. Ideas come more freely and a sense of ‘care but don’t care’ falls around me.

May you find the answers to your questions, by visiting the wisdom that is your own stillness.


0 comments on “When Did You Stop?”

When Did You Stop?

I don’t know a lot of folks that do exactly what I do. But I know MANY folks that deliver their ways of mending and helping.

Perhaps, that is why for the longest time I found it really hard to define myself in a title. Because my stuff, isn’t like other people’s stuff, even though I really wanted it to be. I really wanted to ‘fit in’ with a particular way. Maybe old age, and lack of effs to give have made it easier to not even care about fitting in.

Sometimes it is hard for folks to understand what it really means to have someone offer them intuitively guided information. I mean, what even is that? What woo-woo, charlatan, con-man bullshit are you talking about?

I get it! I really do!

Wouldn’t it be nice, if we were as skeptical about our own internal negative bullshit stories as we were about mystics!

For thousands of years, humans have been able to tap into energies of the universe. Mystics. Menders. Healers. Prophets. Visionaries. Witches. Shaman. Wayfarers. Stargazers. Lightworkers.

It is part of being human to experience mystical and magical experiences. But because our dominant culture is one that, lets face it, is pretty cerebral and in the head, it isn’t really celebrated. Or talked about. Logical. Must make it fit into concrete explainable terms. Otherwise is it fluffy, flakey, woo woo BS. And we don’t believe any of that BS do we?

And I completely get it. I’m a bit of a pragmatist and science lover. My formal school and university training is in the ‘real world’. Evidence based practice. Most of my educators at university were doctors. Doctors, who at times, I know questioned why mere nurses even needed to know the stuff they were teaching us. And 99% of them were male.

I like evidence. I like proof. But the evidence and the proof I have come to seek, is my own. I try stuff out and experience stuff to make my own interpretation of it. And frankly that is all we have. Our own perceptions of what is offered to us to experience.

I am so grateful for my education and to live in a country where I have access to formal recognition. Where I can receive certificates and papers to ‘prove’ I am competent at stuff. I am grateful for my qualifications, that have allowed me to work in the ‘real’ world. To march along with all the other ‘real’ worlders. To be patted on the back for all my ‘nice nursing’.

AND I am grateful to have left it behind. To have left behind the kind of healing methods that don’t vibe with my essential self. The ways of ‘helping’ that are focussed on a particular system or one size fits all. I just don’t believe there is one way. Despite my religious ‘drumming into’s’ that told me so.

From the youngest age, I have had the ability to be aware of things, without any evidence, without any proof. Things that just don’t feel right. Things that seem untruthful. Things that don’t add up. And I am not talking about maths kind of add, because math and I are not mates.

Instead, I have had what I can only describe as a ‘hmmmmm’  feeling. You know the little emoji that has a hand under his chin and looks up to the left. Like that. A wondering. A curiosity. A ‘something more needs attention here’. And nowadays, if I choose to, I follow it.

But back when I was a kid, no one talked about ‘knowing’. No one talked about understanding things that didn’t seem understandable.

When I was maybe 10-ish, I was staying at my next door neighbours house for a sleep over. Which wasn’t uncommon. She had a step mother, that at the time, she thought really was an evil step mother. Her step mother couldn’t have children and had inherited 2 pre-teen daughters when she was in her late 20’s. She was doing her best, but her best didn’t cut it with my mate.

One afternoon, as we lay on the bunks after being scolded and slapped (yes slapped) by her step mother, we started talking about stuff other than Madonnas new song, Flashdance outfits and which did we prefer more; her Micheal Jackson or Boy George figurine.

“I hate my step mum”, my mate said.

“It must be tough”, I said.

Long Pause.

“At least you know she isn’t your mum though. I don’t think my dad is my dad”.

Longer pause.

She eventually tossed her head over the bunk to look at me. Maybe to see if I was in my mind or not.

“Are you crazy? What do you mean not your dad?”

This was the first of many times, I have been looked at as ‘crazy’ because of some of the things I have felt. And for a very long time, I boxed the feelings up. Shut them down. And in fact, didn’t want to know.

Laying on that bed, I didn’t really know how to tell her that I just had this feeling. That there were things that didn’t make sense to me and even though I had no evidence, they felt true or not true.

So how did I ‘know’?

You, like me are a natural mystic. All humans are. It’s hard to swallow I know. Because not many of us were raised to believe this. To know that everything we need to ‘know’ exists already with in us.

Unfortunately, for many of us what we have learnt about the world has been governed by other people. And those people, have taught us not to believe ourselves, but to believe other people. To just listen and believe and trust. Have faith and don’t question. Follow the masses. Control. Submission. Repression.

And I say all of this, calling you not to believe me either.

Never believe anything that doesn’t vibe with you. Not that we just discount everything we encounter, but allow some space to feel it. Is it true for YOU.

Close your eyes from time to time and see in your body where this falls. And what it feels like. Notice if you have ‘hmmmm’ feelings. Pay attention to them. Notice them. Allow them to visit.

Not many folks that I have encountered use songs to help heal or for personal growth.

Very, very few folks have I encountered who specifically use songs, books, cards and their own intuition to help support folks on their humming adventure.

If you know of any, please tell me. They are my soul folk. We have work to do together.

My point here beauties, is there is more wisdom, more magic and more manifestation power that is in you than you may actually believe.

It is time to connect with your own intuition, your own inner guidance system, your mystical and your magical.

I’ve been doing a lot of Soul Visioning with folks recently, and time after time, I am blown away by the magic that comes to play when we connect. And the take homes that folks gather in their little baskets.

A few of the offerings I have collated to support humaning adventures are located here, if you haven’t already seen them.

You are a miracle. You are not here by accident. The amount of events that had to conspire to create you are in the billions.

YOU are magical. YOU are mystical. YOU are light.

Until next we meet, be brave, show up and share beautiful, unique you.

Big love




0 comments on “It’s a Thing. It is.”

It’s a Thing. It is.

It’s a thing. That in times of stress and modern living, often the things that are designed to most nourish us, go. We give them up. Like creativity.

On your lists of things to do, and achieve, how many times does creativity feature?

For most of my life, I have been pretty creative. Not in the ‘art’ sense of creativity, but perhaps a more subtle kind of creative.

But that is the thing with ideas around creativity. People point at some people and say, ‘they are creative’, like it’s a look or an overt expression. I wonder if it is a bit like a spectrum. A range. And those at the extreme end, use their creativity overtly and even might even be paid for it by making a living out if it. Singers, dancers, actors, artists, sculptures and flamingo Hawaiian shirt wearing folks .

And at the other end, I don’t know, maybe you think of factory workers, and scientists and rocks? Personally, I think all of those folks require creativity.

When you think of creative people, who comes to mind for you? Can you think of them? What do they look like? And when you think of yourself, where do you fit on the spectrum?

At school, Drama was my expressive outlet. Effortless. Playful. Immersive. The kids at school, after they had seen a performance, they would come up and say I was a natural. That one day they would see me on stage. I’d always chuckle. I knew I would never choose that route. It was too uncertain. Too unstable, and all I knew at that time, was that I would never want to rely on anyone for anything. So I would have to choose secure.

After I left school, I stopped drama and at university, I began studying to become a Registered Nurse. Safe. Stable. Can work anywhere. Reliable.

I loved drama, not just for the performance aspect, but for the creative development of the story and all the characters and props and settings, and the group work. I loved the rehearsing. The tweaking. The feedback. The growth. Groups have a deep connection to me I have come to see.

Group assignments at uni were my love. I’d be the nerdy one, doing small little claps when we were grouped up to do an assignment together. Oh the joy of coming together to pool our ideas, our visions and see what we could create. Collectively.

I’d have an idea, and then someone would add to that, and then I would add and then someone else would add. And before I knew it, my little idea had ballooned into some thing great.

That is my form of creative expression. Communicating visions, ideas, problem solving…and best done in groups. The perpetual elevation of ideas, and refining of visions. I love it.

I had no idea at the time, my love of drama would manifest in a healing way. Both or me, and for others.

Now days, I facilitate workshops, that are different every time. Like performing a different play each time. The stories. The props. The characters. The settings. The group work. Directing. Producing.

It’s the groups, and the gathering and the collective ideas being shared that is my joy. My creative expression. The preparation. The visioning. The ideas brewing. Oh I do love it so.

This year, I have been challenging myself with different ways to be creative in ways that bring me joy. Different styles of gatherings, and workshops and group creations.

This week, I am challenging myself, co-facilitating an online retreat for those of us who, like me, want to infuse more creative thinking and being into our lives.

It’s something I haven’t done and am really excited about. And nervous. And uncertain. And curious and willing to learn. Just like any performance at school, or any workshop I have ever delivered.

I’d love for those who are keen to make progress in their lives, to unlock stuck-stuff holding them back, or want to do things a different way and don’t know how, to join us. At this on-line retreat. A gathering. To share our collective wisdom. To share our ideas. Our visions. And together, oh I don’t know…we can maybe even make a positive impact in each others lives? Maybe?

If you’d like to hang with us, learn some stuff, play around and grow, follow the link and sign up. If you can’t make it on the day, you will receive all the same inclusions as everyone else and you can do all the activities in your own time. I mean…win win!!

Ignite your creativity. Dive into the wonder of possibilities. Move your hands and when you do, it moves your heart. No joke!

I wonder what kind of creation we will co-create together!!!

Hope to see you there.

Find out more HERE. 

Until next we meet. Be brave. Show up. And share beautiful you! xx