B l e s s i n g O u r A n c e s t o r s

You walk the path of vein, gently upon my ancient blood.

May it lead you to where all pregnant dreamings converge

to await the secrets of Time..

Awaken in our heart’s quiet,

and guide our journey on

May we honour you,

Grandmothers and Grandfathers of Ago

As we shed the skins of history,

And together heal our yesterday

live our fullest potential today

so that we may too keep you alive.

With hearing hearts we awaken Voice,

with eyes of truth we awaken Vision

Of our ancestors

Of our ancestors

Of our ancestors

With HeartMindBodySpirit

WE ARE YOUR LIVING MEMORY

And we do not forget, this Season Of Darkness

All of who we are.

Blessings be, onto you, onto we.

Blessed Be.

Mmmmmmmmmmm........Cauldron Soup

Our solar days are getting shorter and noticeably cooler now and the autumn leaves are morphing into delicious hues of earthly transformation and release. I am newly awakened to this annual, seasonal call of the Cauldron, this sacred time when the inner and outer landscape becomes a stark, skeletal and naked reflection of All That Is. A time when the Underworld's realms and portals blossom inward into tangible poetry which dances on the lucid precipice of our daydreams and night visions. A time when that which endures and sustains reveals a crystalline truth to our deeper listening hearts and souls, humming in the quietude of this darker season, humming an ancient familiar tune, barely audible above a whispered north-wind. I soOooooooooo love the sacred Dark, Her rich, dank, fertile and cavernous purgatory of the soul. I don't fear it's realms of mystery and obscurity as some do, don't resist it's magnetic pull on my bones toward uncharted Plutonian journeys, it's pulsing spiral into subconscious gaps which hungrily await the release of denied expressions within. Instead, I welcome it, crave it like a true friend, and revel in its compelling gravity, the textures and uninhibited sensations of change. For I know, as the Earth knows, I too shall be reborn in her anew. And so, I conjure my spicy cacophony of alchemical ingredients, often rare and taboo substances from my hidden internal worlds, worlds glinting secret reflections off ancestral mirrors back into me, again and again. And I stir, a thick and briny broth, stirring this shadowy cauldron of the Self as the sun wanes within and without. And I winter, laying bare the fallow grounds of my psyche like snows at midnight, like a black expanse of Time's longest hour.

"Once you learn what life is about, there is no way to erase the knowledge. If you try to do something else with your life you will always sense that you are missing something."

James Redfield: excerpt from the 'The Celestine Prophecy