For a long time I have been thinking of writing words I love and have meaning to me in notebooks and decorating the pages.
Partly to spend less time on screens and also to create some little collections of peace and kindness that I can hold in my hands and read
They will hopefully become comforting and sacred space for me and also possibly smething that can be passed on in the future
Don't try to forgive.
Forgiveness is not a 'doing'.
Simply accept that this moment is exactly the way it is right now.
And the past was the way it was.
Accept your non-acceptance in the present.
Forgive your inability to forgive.
Feel your breath, the sensations in your body, the life that burns brightly in you.
Everyone is doing their best, even when it seems like they are doing their worst.
Everyone is dreaming or having a nightmare, battling with pain you may never understand.
You don't have to condone their actions.
You may not be able to wake them up.
You don't have to like what happened.
Simply let go of the illusion
that it could have been any different.
You are different now, anyhow.
Don't focus on something
you have no control over.
The past is a distant land.
Bring your attention back to this moment,
Your source of true power.
Your place of connectedness.
Wake up from the dream
That anyone has any power
To take away your inner peace.
Drop the need to be right.
Embrace the need to be free.
Come out of the story of 'my life'.
Reclaim the moment.
Be here, in your new life.
Show up for this brand new day.
This is forgiveness.
- Jeff Foster
I want to paint in them also.This is the kind of house that would be my dream home ,will have a go at painting something similar and try to share the feeling of peace and belonging within the pages .
(pic missing -will locate another)
What a perfect idea for a thread!!!
I think you will be starting a trend!
I loved Jeff's Powertool idea -thread...
though think I may create something like yours 1 day(:
This may inspire others too
you are wise!
BE YOU
To the Hurting Ones
To the one who yearns to speak
but can't remember the words, who has forgotten
your words are not a lost thing to find, but
a song tucked into the patient pockets
of your beautiful, hurting heart—
I dedicate this breath to you.
To you who keeps trying to stitch and fix
and scrub away your humanness,
rather than knitting it a nest
to rest inside, who has forgotten that you
are as essential as sunlight. To you
who has survived impossibly harsh
winters, but still, somehow, remembers
how to breathe, still manages to lace up
your boots and shovel a path to the front door,
still remembers the words thank you—
I dedicate this breath, and every
breath after this breath, to you.
And to you who keeps losing and getting lost,
who forgets you can get off the littered
road and pave yourself a new one—
beginning right now, with this one remembered
word. With this one impossibly possible
breath.
In response to ˚ confidence in my faith /faith in my confidence's post:
thank you
making friends with feeling is good
I try to visualize mine as either water so they flow through ,
air they come in and out with the breath ,
fire they warm me
earth they ground me and can bury old things that need releasing and grow new things
In response to Hippiegirl's post:
This is do wonderful! I will add it to my tools for greater joy.
Thank you !
BE YOU
“How many years of beauty do I have left?"
she asks me.
How many more do you want?
Here. Here is 34. Here is 50.
When you are 80 years old
and your beauty rises in ways
your cells cannot even imagine now
and your wild bones grow luminous and
ripe, having carried the weight
of a passionate life.
When your hair is aflame
with winter
and you have decades of
learning and leaving and loving
sewn into
the corners of your eyes
and your children come home
to find their own history
in your face.
When you know what it feels like to fail
ferociously
and have gained the
capacity
to rise and rise and rise again.
When you can make your tea
on a quiet and ridiculously lonely afternoon
and still have a song in your heart
Queen owl wings beating
beneath the cotton of your sweater.
Because your beauty began there
beneath the sweater and the skin,
remember?
This is when I will take you
into my arms and coo
YOU BRAVE AND GLORIOUS THING
you’ve come so far.
I see you.
Your beauty is breathtaking ..
' Silver ' by Jeannette Encinias ~
putting this here again as I dont want to lose it
To the one who yearns to speak
but can't remember the words, who has forgotten
your words are not a lost thing to find, but
a song tucked into the patient pockets
of your beautiful, hurting heart—
I dedicate this breath to you.
To you who keeps trying to stitch and fix
and scrub away your humanness,
rather than knitting it a nest
to rest inside, who has forgotten that you
are as essential as sunlight. To you
who has survived impossibly harsh
winters, but still, somehow, remembers
how to breathe, still manages to lace up
your boots and shovel a path to the front door,
still remembers the words thank you—
I dedicate this breath, and every
breath after this breath, to you.
And to you who keeps losing and getting lost,
who forgets you can get off the littered
road and pave yourself a new one—
beginning right now, with this one remembered
word. With this one impossibly possible
breath.
~ 'To the Hurting Ones' by Julia Fehrenbacher,
“Half of me is filled with bursting words and half of me is painfully shy. I crave solitude yet also crave people. I want to pour life and love into everything yet also nurture my self-care and go gently. I want to live within the rush of primal, intuitive decision, yet also wish to sit and contemplate. This is the messiness of life - that we all carry multitudes, so must sit with the shifts. We are complicated creatures, and ultimately, the balance comes from this understanding. Be water. Flowing, flexible and soft. Subtly powerful and open. Wild and serene. Able to accept all changes, yet still led by the pull of steady tides. It is enough.”
― Victoria Erickson
vulnerability doesn’t mean telling others what happened to us from across a cafe table or from behind a microphone
and then going home from the experience feeling just as alone as you did before
vulnerability means allowing your human heart blanket to get sewn to other heart blankets
it’s about connection
we don’t share for status
we do it for synergy
we don’t confess for clout
we do it to build community
we tell our tale
to invite others
to tell theirs
it’s the sacred cycle
of storytelling
we gather in a circle of trust and
say “here is my journey”
then we listen to
the other journeys
that are shared
we take space
then we give space
we pour
then we absorb
we speak
then we listen
we are storytellers
then we are witnesses
vulnerability isn’t just about
grave digging in our past
to expose our skeletons
it’s about sewing quilts
here is my patch
here is your patch
here is their patch
here is us
here is our story
~ john “patchwork heart” roedel
Some days, the world feels too sharp,
Too loud, too raw to touch.
Headlines scream, phones ring,
And chaos dances at our doorstep.
But I've learned to find sanctuary
In small moments of grace—
The way sunlight paints shadows on walls,
How wind whispers through leaves,
The steady rhythm of my own breath
When I remember to just... breathe.
I've learned to turn off the noise,
To silence the endless chatter,
To find strength in gentle things—
A cup of coffee at dawn,
A moment of kindness between strangers,
The quiet courage of growing things.
They say the world's gone mad,
But perhaps the secret is knowing
When to step away from the storm,
When to guard your peace like gold,
When to let your heart be still
In a world that never stops spinning.
For in this rush of endless moments,
We must remember to be gentle
With ourselves, with each other,
To find beauty in broken places,
To create spaces of quiet wonder
In corners of our own making.
This is how we stay whole—
Not by hardening our hearts,
But by knowing when to soften,
When to rest, when to breathe,
When to let the world's noise fade
Into the background of our being.
~ 'Find Your Quiet in the Storm' by Etheric Echoes,
Sacred Truths for Your Soul 
Each feeling that flows through you is real,
Like rivers carving their perfect path through stone,
Valid as sunrise, as natural as breath.
Your boundaries are gardens where spirit blooms,
Protected spaces where peace takes root -
Honor them like ancient walls that guard precious treasures.
You're walking this path with quiet courage,
Even when your steps feel uncertain,
Even when the road seems too long.
Strength lives in open palms reaching outward,
In voices that dare to whisper "help me" -
This too is its own kind of bravery.
You are a masterpiece of stardust and strength,
Worthy of the deepest love this universe holds,
Your existence alone is reason enough.
Your 'no' is written in the same stars
That guide wanderers home -
Let it ring true and clear.
Within your soul dance endless possibilities,
Dreams waiting to take flight -
You are capable of magic yet unnamed.
And if today's road ends in shadow,
Tomorrow brings new colors to paint with,
Fresh canvas waiting for your touch.
-Etheric Echoes
Wow! Amazing things above
I will add to my notebook thread !thank you !
BE YOU
I hope others create a thread sharing & saving
BE YOU
The cure for burnout is not self-care. It’s simply care.
It’s all of us caring for each other.
That means that when you think you need more grit, what you need is more help.
When you think you need more discipline, you need more kindness.
~Emily Nagoski~
She didn't want a grand mansion, she wanted a little log cabin in the middle of nowhere, where they could grow old together. A place where the trees were their neighbours, the birds sung them awake each morning, and the stars shone in the sky above them as they slept each night.
She didn't want a manicured garden, she wanted a place where the flowers grew wild and free, reminding her of her own nature. A place where she could walk barefoot on the Earth, make friends with the animals, and sit around a fire sharing stories.
She didn't want a life full of rushing and striving, she wanted a life where she could enjoy the pleasure of simply being. A life where she had time to stop and smell the flowers, to marvel at the beauty of the sunset, and to listen to her heart speak.
She didn't want big things, she wanted little moments. Moments that touched her soul, moments that made her heart sing, moments where love was all that she knew.
Emily JaneErnest Hemingway once said:
When people talk listen completely. Don’t be thinking what you’re going to say. Most people never listen. Nor do they observe. You should be able to go into a room and when you come out know everything that you saw there and not only that. If that room gave you any feeling you should know exactly what it was that gave you that feeling.
It’s a rare and profound gift to be fully present with someone, and yet, it’s something so few of us truly offer. Most people only half-listen, their minds already formulating their next words, distracted by their own thoughts, or zoning out entirely.
Imagine how powerful it would be if we listened more deeply—if we made a commitment to being fully engaged, to hearing and understanding not just the words, but the emotions and intentions behind them. Listening isn’t just about waiting for your turn to speak; it’s about absorbing what someone else is sharing and making them feel heard, valued, and understood. It’s about connecting on a level deeper than surface conversations, because when you truly listen, you open a door to empathy and genuine connection. And isn’t that what we’re all really longing for?
Beyond listening, there is also the art of observing, of truly noticing the world around you. When you walk into a room, take a moment to soak in everything. Notice the details—the way the sunlight filters through the windows, the color of the walls, the expressions on people’s faces, the way someone is nervously tapping their foot or laughing with their eyes more than their mouth. Most of us rush through spaces, our minds preoccupied and our eyes barely registering what’s in front of us. But there’s magic in paying attention, in being mindful of the small details that make every moment unique.
Think of the room not just as a physical space, but as an experience. Every room has a mood, a feeling, an energy. It could be the coziness of a room filled with laughter, the tension of a space where a difficult conversation just took place, or the warmth of a place that holds beautiful memories. The more we tune in to these subtle feelings, the more deeply we can understand our surroundings and the people in them. What gave you that feeling? Was it the way someone’s eyes lit up when they smiled? The scent of freshly brewed coffee that brought a sense of comfort? Or perhaps the distant echo of a song that stirred up a forgotten memory?
Being observant and emotionally aware in this way takes practice, but it also transforms the way you move through life. You become more sensitive, more attuned, more aware. You start to notice the way a friend’s voice softens when they’re talking about something they love, or the slight shift in someone’s tone when they’re hiding something. You begin to see and feel things that others miss entirely, and that awareness can lead to a richer, more connected experience of the world.
It’s a beautiful thing to be a person who listens with their heart, who observes deeply, and who feels fully. It means you’re not just drifting through life; you’re living it intentionally. You’re soaking in the fullness of each moment, aware of the beauty and complexity around you. It means you understand people better, because you’ve made the effort to see and hear them, to pick up on the nuances of their being. It means you can be the kind of person whose presence feels calming, because people know you’re truly there with them, not just waiting for your turn to talk or half-heartedly engaging.
So, when you’re in conversation, let go of the urge to plan your next statement. Take a breath, relax your mind, and give the person speaking your undivided attention. Let yourself be present, fully. When you walk into a room, slow down and really see it. Observe the details, feel the energy, notice the small things that make that moment unique. You’ll find that life becomes richer, fuller, and more meaningful when you learn to listen and observe completely. It’s not just about hearing words or seeing objects—it’s about feeling the fullness of everything around you. It’s about experiencing life, deeply and completely.
-
What do you believe we miss out on when we’re not fully present, and how does that impact our relationships and experiences?
quote pic missing
saved for new pic /words
In response to Hippiegirl's post:In response to Hippiegirl's post:
how perfect are these ? awesome!!!!
They ought to be an 'everywhere -theme.
BE YOU
You are the author of your own healing journey. Write kindly, my love. Write so so kindly.
John Roedel
Sometimes it takes nothing
And sometimes a little more
Sometimes just the smallest step
Will get you out the door
Sometimes it takes only
Just the tiniest breath in
Sometimes just a pause
And you are able to begin
But sometimes just that little step
Feels like a giant leap
And where that leap will take you
Feels too dizzying and steep
Sometimes that small breath
Feels like it’s trapped inside your throat
As if you’re underwater
And you cannot stay afloat
Sometimes when you pause
It’s like you’re rooted to the spot
Tied up in disquiet
With your stomach in a knot
Sometimes it takes nothing
And sometimes a little more
Sometimes life feels harder
Than the way it felt before
Yes, sometimes it takes all your strength
To go about your day
And sometimes it takes everything
To simply be okay
~ 'Okay' from 'Letters from Life' by Becky Hemsley ~ Becky Hemsley Poetry
shared from facebook
In response to Hippiegirl's post:
Wow! this is a great declaration
She looked at her old life,
one last time,
inhaled deeply,
and whispered to herself,
"It is time. I am ready for
my new story to begin."
I will write that out for myself today
I love so many of your posts .
thank you
BE YOU
FOREST THERAPY ~
When you seek respite from
a noisy mind, a noisy world
or your noisy human existence,
go to the forest.
She will welcome you in,
ask for nothing, and,
never ask you
to leave.
She will embrace you,
offer you sanctuary,
and shield you from the storms
taunting you to run.
She will listen, comfort you,
calm your tired soul and
if you listen, she’ll offer resolution
to whatever ails you.
She will not judge
or ask why you came.
She will accept you,
no matter how messy you are.
She will allow you to
unpack your bags,
rest, rejuvenate
and help you heal.
Then, she will allow you
to sit quietly
and just
breathe.
And sometimes,
that’s all we need.
Toni O’Keeffe
Simplify your life.
Don't waste the years struggling for things that are unimportant.
Don't burden yourself with possessions.
Keep your needs and wants simple and enjoy what you have.
Don't destroy your peace of mind by looking back, worrying about the past.
Live in the present.
Simplify!..
Henry David Thoreau
"I think Im in a cocoon as a safe space to find inner peace " by myself
Then, she rested.
She retreated.
She reclaimed the energy she had strewn about the universe.
She accepted the uncertainty of loose ends and the necessity of severing old ties.
She forgave herself and others and promised to begin new.
She took time to breathe, to settle, to dismiss old worries and matters of little consequence to this time
in her life.
She gathered herself and returned to a space of gentle peace without judgment.
The stillness of love dawns in her heart and she is overjoyed to awaken to its presence. Jody Doty
©2024 Meditations and Musings by Jody Doty
when my heart, is feeling heavy
when the missing feels so strong.
when my eyes have cried so many tears
and waiting seems so long.
when i lose my way a little
and i stumble here and there.
when my soul runs out of comfort
and my lungs run out of air.
when the memories start to fade
and i just want to make them last.
when i'm asked if i'm still grieving
after all the time that's passed.
i take a walk and clear my head.
i find a peaceful place.
i tell myself that it's okay
and show myself some grace.
i will not rush this grief of mine -
i'll wander slowly through it.
a lovely so deep is far too blessed
to ever just undo it.
and i will be the one you see
with wildflowers in my hair.
my eyes lost in the willows
and my hands folded in prayer.
I'll be the gentle one who
watches feathers as they fall.
or looks for art in rainbows
and sunlight on my wall.
i'll be the one who talks to birds
and traces lines rain drew
for every glimpse of beauty
is another glimpse of you.
~ 'glimpse of you' by ullie-kaye
not words but a video I want to be able to find again
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TzEZNxk8W7c
When winter comes to a woman's soul, she withdraws into her inner self, her deepest spaces. She refuses all connection, refutes all arguments that she should engage in the world. She may say she is resting, but she is more than resting: She is creating a new universe within herself, examining and breaking old patterns, destroying what should not be revived, feeding in secret what needs to thrive.
Winter women are those who bring into the next cycle what should be saved. They are the deep conservators of knowledge and power. Not for nothing did ancient peoples honour the grandmother. In her calm deliberateness, she winters over our truth, she freezes out false-heartedness.
Look into her eyes, this winter woman. In their gray spaciousness you can see the future. Look out of your own winter eyes. You too can see the future."
Patricia Monaghan
Defy all rules and labels and turn your coping mechanisms into artworks. Write. Paint. Dance. Sing. Perform. Use your camera and record life. Make blankets. Tell stories.
In fact, turn all your life into an artwork. Make good food. Walk in the forest. Save trees and polar bears. Teach your children how to be good humans. Read books to them. Believe in magic.
Get out of the tranches of life and allow not to be defined by psychiatry books and narrow-minded descriptions of the human condition. You are not what and who you are told to be.
You are not only flesh. You are also soul. And soul knows the stories of the past and the future. Lean on the knowing of soul and turn your coping mechanism into artwork to be witnessed. Artwork to inspire and declare your point of view on life and existence.
There is no other way for us, beloved Soul Deep Women. Turn your perfectionism into perfect peace and your people pleasing into nurturing and sacred service. Your achiever tendencies into being your authentic true self and your fear of not belonging into being a citizen of the world.
These drastic times call us to be all that we can be. The earth is beautiful and self sufficient. And so is every human being. It is the structures we created that hurt the earth and humans.
Find your way in the labyrinth of life. We cannot lose hope as we lose the ancient permafrost. We cannot lose peace as we lose trees to paper.
Like-minded souls must gather with each other and tell stories that are true. Not lies. Truth must be currency to communicate with each other. Make poetry. Read your poems to others. Sing and dance your way to your inner world.
Uncertain times calls us all to turn our coping mechanisms into artwork. What will you make? What will you do? How are you going to show up and teach us the way of your wisdom?
Gatekeepers, wayshowers, poets and storytellers of all sorts must cast spells so humans awaken from the hypnotic trance of social construction of illusion.
Defy all rules and labels and turn your coping mechanisms into art work. It is how you make an impact. It is how you live true to you. It is how you live your purpose.
This is how you heal... This is how you make the world a better, more beautiful place for all of us.
..............................................
Reflection by Archaeology for the Woman's Soul
Rise Up, Warrior Woman:
No One Has The Right To Trespass Upon You
Just because you’re a woman does not make it ok for others to trespass upon you.
It is not your job to put up with others issues and swallow your voice until it chokes you out of fear, feelings of inadequacy or for threat of reprisal. It is not your purpose to give up your time, energy or resources for everyone and everything out of a sense of obligation or accommodation.
Your purpose in this life is not to be a puppet for everyone elses whims.
For far too long women have been made to be afraid to show our faces in the world.
We have been threatened when we tried to bring our truth into being. Our rights have been violated. We have been made to feel unsafe as we walk in this world. We have been propositioned in vulgar, unacceptable ways. We have been made to feel less than.
This is not our truth but oppression woven from the patriarchal loom of the past, a past that constricts the feminine and binds her to a will not her own. This is not our future. Our story will be written by our own hands and it will be one of freedom, not bondage. The path we walk is one of truth, not silence.
No one has the right to trespass upon your shores uninvited.
No one has the right to threaten you or turn your gifts into arrows. No one has the right to make you feel unsafe in your own skin. No one has the right to violate your sacred self. No one has the right to treat you like you are a piece of meat. No one has the right to warp your medicine. No one has the right to silence your voice.
This is not acceptable but what we have been taught to expect. No more. Rise up warrior woman, no one has the right to trespass upon you.
It is our right to stand up for ourselves. To say NO you will not trespass upon me.
I reclaim my voice, my time and my sacred space. I take back my energy and my energetic resources. I will not silence my truth or hide in fear.
For I am a warrior woman. And you are not allowed to tread upon me.
~Carrie Ara Campbell~
Breathe
She sat at the back and they said she was shy,
She led from the front and they hated her pride,
They asked her advice and then questioned her guidance,
They branded her loud, then were shocked by her silence,
When she shared no ambition they said it was sad,
So she told them her dreams and they said she was mad,
They told her they’d listen, then covered their ears,
And gave her a hug while they laughed at her fears,
And she listened to all of it thinking she should,
Be the girl they told her to be best as she could,
But one day she asked what was best for herself,
Instead of trying to please everyone else,
So she walked to the forest and stood with the trees,
She heard the wind whisper and dance with the leaves,
She spoke to the willow, the elm and the pine,
And she told them what she’d been told time after time,
She told them she felt she was never enough,
She was either too little or far far too much,
Too loud or too quiet, too fierce or too weak,
Too wise or too foolish, too bold or too meek,
Then she found a small clearing surrounded by firs
,And she stopped…and she heard what the trees said to her,
And she sat there for hours not wanting to leave,
For the forest said nothing, it just let her breathe`
~ Becky Hemsley
Most of us are ageing through the next phase of our lives. We're at the age where we see wrinkles, grey hair, and extra pounds.
We see cute 25-year-olds and reminisce.
But we were also 25, just as they will one day be our age. We aren't those "girls in their summer clothes" anymore. What they bring to the table with their youth and zest, we bring our wisdom and experience.
We have raised families, run households, paid the bills, dealt with diseases, sadness and everything else life has assigned us.
Some of us have lost those that we're nearest and dearest to us.
We are survivors.
We are warriors in the quiet.
We are women, like a fine wine or classic car.
Even if our bodies aren't what they once were, they carry our souls, our courage, and our strength. We shall enter this chapter in our lives with humility, grace, and pride over everything we have been through, and we should never feel bad about getting older.
It's a privilege that is denied to so many.
~unknown
AGING....
You grow old, they told me, you are no longer you, you become distant, sad and lonely.
I didn't answer...
I don't get old, I get wise.
I stopped being what others like me to become, but what I like to be.
I stopped seeking the acceptance of others and accepted myself.
I have left behind the lying mirrors that deceive mercilessly.
- No, I'm not getting old.
I just become more selective with places, people, customs and ideologies.
I have let go of attachments, unnecessary pain, toxic people, sick souls and rotten hearts... bitterness and unhappiness are not for me, I release them for my health.
I'm ditching party nights for learning and embracing insomnia.
I stopped living stories and started writing them, I threw aside the imposed stereotypes.
I no longer carry eyeshadow in my bag, now I have a book that beautifies my mind.
I exchanged wine glasses for coffee cups, forgot to idealize life and started living it.
- No, I'm not getting old.
I carry freshness in my soul, innocence in my heart, and I discover myself daily.
I have in my hands the tenderness of a cocoon that, when opened, will spread its wings to other places unreachable for those who seek only the frivolity of the material.
I have that charming smile on my face when I observe the simplicity of nature.
I carry in my ears the chirping of the birds that delight me and accompany the walk.
- No, I'm not getting old.
I become selective, betting my time on the intangible, rewriting the story I've been told, rediscovering worlds, saving those old books I've forgotten half open.
I'm becoming more cautious, I've stopped the outbursts that teach me nothing, I'm learning to talk about transcendent things, I'm learning to cultivate knowledge, plant ideals and falsify my destiny.
- No, I'm not getting old.
I begin to live who I really am.
( Bianka Luz )
Bianka Luz )There is a reason why walking amongst nature is most people’s best advice when depression strikes.
Because walking in nature is a return to ‘home’.
You are not a lover of nature, or a fan of nature, you ‘are’ nature.
You are as much nature as the trees in your garden and the bees on your picnic.
You were designed to live your days out in the wild with your fellow creatures and plants but progress, humanity, had different plans for us all.
And so we exist day-to-day, in our homes, but never ‘home’.
The quickest route back to self, to inner peace, is bare feet on grass, arms around trees, head in the clouds and heart in a forest.
Put your bones in water, whenever you can, smell each flower you see and crumble dirt between your tired-of-typing fingers.
You are nature, go home once in a while.
It will bring you much you didn’t even know you were missing.
~ 'You Are Nature' by Donna Ashworth from 'Wild Hope' ~ Donna Ashworth
To the woman who has lost her spark.
To the woman whose get up and go, has well and truly gone.
This is for you.
This is to remind you, that you don’t have to be everything to everyone, every day.
You didn’t sign up for that.
Remember when you used to laugh? Sing?
Throw caution to the wind?
Remember when you used to forgive yourself more quickly for not always being perfect.
You can get that back again.
You really can.
And that doesn’t have to mean letting people down or walking away.
It just means being kinder to you, feeling brave enough to say no sometimes.
Being brave enough to stop sometimes.
And rest.
It starts the moment you realise that you’re not quite who you used to be.
Some of that is good, some of that is not.
There are parts of you that need to be brought back.
And if anyone in your life is not okay with that… they are not your people. Your people will be glad to see that spark starting to light up again.
So, if you have been slowly fading away my friend, this is the time to start saying yes to things that bring you joy and no to things that don’t.
It’s really pretty simple.
Credit : Donna Ashworth
I Look Into Your Eyes
I look into your eyes
And see a spirit that takes my breath away—
So grounded, yet so free,
So deep, yet touching stars.
You move through this world
Like no one I've ever known,
Dancing to rhythms only you can hear,
Creating paths where others see walls.
Your soul speaks ancient wisdom
While your heart beats wild and new.
You're an inspiration, a revelation,
A reminder of what it means
To live completely true.
What a gift to witness
Your beautiful, untamed way of being,
To see you paint outside their lines,
To watch you turn life into art.
I am blessed to know
Someone who makes the world
More colorful, more real,
Just by being in it.
Never change. Never dim.
Keep being magnificently you.
-Etheric Echoes
shared from facebook
shared from facebook
Lately, I’ve found myself drifting away from activities and conversations that once held my interest.
There’s a growing fatigue in engaging with arguments and conflicts that seem increasingly pointless. It’s as if I’m looking for peace and clarity, but instead, I’m confronted with negativity and divisiveness that drain my energy.
I’ve started to prioritize my mental well-being, stepping back from situations that no longer serve me or spark joy.
This shift has allowed me to reflect on what truly matters to me.
I’m seeking deeper connections and experiences that resonate on a more meaningful level.
As I move away from trivial disputes and superficial engagements, I feel a sense of liberation.
It’s a journey toward understanding myself better and embracing what brings me genuine happiness, rather than getting caught up in the noise around me.
Balt Rodriguez
May you find peace in the promise of the solstice night,
That each day forward is blessed with more light.
That the cycle of nature, unbroken and true,
brings faith to your soul and wellbeing to you.
Rejoice in the darkness, in the silence find rest,
and may the days that follow be abundantly blessed ..
Unknown
Today I will begin this gentle countdown by curling up on the couch with a cup of tea and a pretty notre book and will make some plans including a timeline
For me this is far more than just holiday preparations and pretty pictures.
This is a time to take those baby steps out of a long time of inertia ,soul searching, hiding behind a cluttered home and procrastinating over things that don't appeal and things that do
I belong to a wonderful group called Brave living - formerly known as brave girls club and as well as other things they run wonderful classes .
At the moment I am taking two of them - Soul Restoration and Body Restoration and they are both deep ,soul searching classes that need and deserve time ,a peaceful space and the self belief that I am worthy of doing this
These classes will be a big part of the next few weeks and will help me make this transition from zoning out on the PC most of the day to actually creating a healing ,helping ,soulful life for myself ,those I love and care about and those I have yet to become friends with
May the nourishment of the earth be yours, may the clarity of light be yours, may the fluency of the ocean be yours, may the protection of the ancestors be yours. And so may a slow wind work these words of love around you, an invisible cloak to mind your life.
-John O’Donohue
Dawn's Promise
When the world is still soft with morning light,
and possibility hangs like mist in the air,
I think of all the hearts out there
aching to be understood,
dreaming behind closed doors,
gathering courage for their next chapter.
To the silent fighters, the quiet dreamers,
the ones trying one more time:
Your story matters.
Your sunrise is coming.
And this morning holds all the magic
you need to begin again.
-Etheric Echoes
instead of using the word declutter about my home I am changing it to de stress my home
Choose the path that feels like coming home to yourself -
The one where your heartbeat matches the rhythm of your dreams,
Where peace settles around your shoulders like a familiar shawl,
Where love flows through your days like a gentle river,
And where each sunrise makes you fall in love with living
Again, and again, and yet again.
Choose the journey that makes your soul bloom
Like wildflowers in an untamed garden,
Where every step feels like dancing with destiny,
And every moment reminds you
That you were born to experience this beautiful adventure
Called life.
-Etheric Echoes
from facebook
For the sensitive soul…….
Like most sensitive souls, you already know you’re sensitive.
You soak up others’ moods and desires like a sponge. You absorb sensation the way a paintbrush grasps each colour as it touches on a palette. The ethereal beauty of a dandelion, the shift of a season, the climax of a song, or the scent of a certain fragrance can sometimes move you to tears… if you are sensitive, you have the ability to see colours and feel energy the way others hear jet planes.
The world takes on a rich tapestry of immense gorgeousness at almost every turn, which then fuels your imagination and makes you spin with aliveness. And aliveness is a grand thing.
Yet, it also means that much like the spirited and hot blooded Arabians in the horse world, your alertness and reactivity may easily cause you to shy away with fright at things that shouldn’t be so scary.
Since your nervous system responds so easily to stimuli, that it can often times be overwhelming and exhausting to be so flooded with sensation—which makes you prone to bolting from uncomfortable situations, relationships, and jobs.
And sometimes your sensitivity makes life extraordinarily painful, and you want to shut down and hide your raw self from the loud chaos that accompanies this earth’s continual rotation.
Continually swimming in an endless sea of sensation can at times be exhausting, regardless if it’s beautifully terrible or terribly beautiful, and this is why your deep-rooted need for peace and self care is essential to support your superb sensitivity….Take some time for yourself when your body and mind need it. When you’re sensitive, you need to fiercely guard your serenity to protect your open heart and regroup.
Once you have these things in place, go and experience this mind-bendingly incredible world, you super sensitive soul, you.
If the world is patiently waiting for everyone else’s senses to grow sharper to reveal magical things, all you need to do is step outside and ride the energy of the earth, for there’s always a brilliant sunrise, rolling fog, shifting seasons, and rising waters to experience, as well as new, inviting lands to step foot on.
And the view is glorious. -Victoria Erickson
shared from Facebooksh
I found this post that I had shared in a group about 3-4 years ago and I think it is just what I need .I have tried so many groups ,courses ,books etc to sort out our home and myself and think I had the answers I was searching for all along but didn't believe in myself
" I naively thought that when I had cleared and given away so much stuff that somehow the house would organise itself and I would be back to that simple home care routine I had when my family were little people I was so lucky to have 3 babies in 4 years and was in a lovely routine of house cleaned ,washing pegged out by 10 AM and the rest of the day was spent making gingerbread men ,feeding ducks ,playing on swings ,finger painting ,reading stories ,visiting little friends,colouring ,blowing bubbles and so many fun things .
The wise woman /Queen/Crone inside is gently guiding me now to see things clearly ,that was a different home ( I loved it ) ,a different time in my life ( half the age I am now ,3 healthy kids ) and is time to make a new start Her voice has guided me to ask myself some questions
1) What space do I want to create in this home? I want to create a home that gives you a hug .When you walk in you feel peaceful ,loving ,healing ,calm ,authentic,welcoming ,simple ,cosy energy A space where you relax and feel your mind and body slowing down and your soul says "yes I'm home"
2) what do I need and what do I already have to do this ? This question reminds me of Simple Abundance videos and the music playing "All We Have Is All We Need " I have the home ,the time ,gentle energy ,reiki ,candles ,incense ,sage sticks ,essential oils ,crystals, salt lamp ,beautiful music and meditation CDs ,cosy cushions ,throws ,cupboards full of herbal and other teas ,fresh fruit and vegetables and soon home made soup in slow cooker( also cookies and vegan chocolate for treats) what do I need ? I think I have all I need - you can just about hear the beautiful song [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lOF7KEOTj7Q](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lOF7KEOTj7Q...)3)
3) what is stopping me? ll I need to believe in myself that I can create this space and that there is no panic .no rush but to do something every day .Need to step away from PC as this is far more important
4) what do I need to do to create this energy? I need to step into mindfulness and focus on one thing at a time .Start with smudging with sage and reiki to set the intention . Then start to create homes for everything and put them in their homes ( folders in dresser for papers ,boxes for craft items)
As I put things away cleaning will become so easy and each day will be a way of contacting physically with the elements ;
water = washing dishes ,laundry,cleaning
earth = watering plants ,cooking vegetables ,cleaning wooden furniture,crystals, ,
fire = candles ,sage ,incense and cooking /heating ,
air = pegging out washing on the line ,opening windows .
Spirit = being grateful ,doing these things from love ,putting my heart and soul in to home caring
I have decided that I am going to become the calmest I have ever been
So fed up feeling stressed ,living in chaos ,absorbing so much negative energy( wigan can be overwhelming )
I aim to lower bp and get off meds
Do daily yoga,meditation and reiki
spend time on hobbies
get back into doing crafts
create a beautiful sensory,peaceful garden
our home will be very calm ,tidy,cottagey
i will write with a fountain pen in pretty journals
Save up and become a Reiki master
learn more about holistic health
Women Rise!
“I know the vision of myself that I want to live into. I hold it like a sacred chalice within my mind’s eye and the tender space of my heart. I choose to focus on this rather than the relentless critic which lives in my head. The woman I see is wild in her primal nature and is is connected to her Mother earth and its messages. She is tuned into her intuition with a soft gaze on her third eye which becomes many eyes. Wild woman is not afraid to be her colorful self and walks with grace and confidence. She is in the world but not of the world. She dances and sings through life, cries and laughs at the same time. She is leader, teacher, model and ally. She listens to whoever is sitting opposite her intently with her heart, present and open. She offers graceful words of support only if asked. She breathes deep and sings magic into her life and those around her. She is a medicine woman, she knows the power of her words and the power of her womb to create. She has discipline with herself and is not swayed by her environment. She knows what she needs to do daily, in order to be present and balanced within herself. Its in her practice, the way she eats, the way she thinks, she speaks and gives of her energy. She draws on her innate feminine powers of intuition and sensing to come into her own cycles. This wild woman knows her relationship to herself IS the most important and primary relationship. She nurtures it like she nurtures her child."
~ sukhdev jackson
AYKANNA
There comes a time in every woman's life when she embarks on an Underworld journey. Indeed, she will visit the Underworld more than once during the course of her lifetime. This journey may be precipitated by the loss of someone she loves, or by a life-threatening illness, or a grave disappointment in career or craft. When it happens, she feels that all is lost. She is separated from everything she holds dear. She is in shock. She despairs. She grieves.
She descends to the realm of the Old One, the Crone, the Cailleach, the Grandmother, Lady Death, Hecate, Baba Yaga, Erishkegal, La Santa de Muerte. The Old One has a thousand names.
Our Hallowmas Woman might find herself in a darkened wood, on a night when no moon lights the sky, not even a thin crescent. She sits cross-legged in the dirt at a place where three roads meet, a basket of offerings at her side. She shivers as she hears the mournful howl of a black dog, its red eyes glaring at her out of the thicket. She watches the silver-thin filament of spiderweb twist and turn in the starlight. She feels the rush of cold, quick air as a hoot owl flies overhead, flapping its enormous wings.
She waits.
She sits silently at the crossroads, knowing that the comfortable, familiar terrain of her life has crumbled away and is no more. But it is not yet clear where she will go next, or what shape her days might take.
She waits for the counsel of the Old One.
And while she waits, she reflects. She begins to dream. She sorts through her emotions. Yes! I want that. No! I don't want that. This is the life I want. Not that. She begins to have glimmers of ideas, a dream barely caught upon waking. What was that? An image, a scent, a feeling . . . it is shapeless, taking form, then shapeless again.
Even though she is heartbroken, she begins to find comfort in this liminal space, between here and there, past and future, now and then. She is poised on the threshold between her ancestors and her descendants, the Dark Moon and the New. She begins to sense that she is broken open, and her heart expands, light streaming out through the cracks. The veils between this world and the next are thin indeed.
We see the Hallowmas Woman in the stark November landscape, with its muted tones of olive, ochre, sienna brown. We find her in a cold statue in a graveyard, garlanded with dead roses, thorns, and blood-red rosehips. We see her in fogbound mornings when there is no distinction between sea, stones, and sky, and the Otherworld is just a step away. She lives within the brief days and long nights that draw us toward withdrawal and cocooning. The Hallowmas woman rests. She withdraws into herself. It is not a time of connection. She prefers her own company, turning down invitations to gather with others. The midwinter holidays will be here soon enough.
Perhaps, if she should be so lucky, a woman will live long enough in human years to embody the Old One literally. At 70 or 80 years old, she has walked the Great Round of life/death/renewal more than once. She knows how the story ends. Age does not automatically confer wisdom (there's no fool like an old fool) — but by 70 years old, our Hallowmas woman has learned a thing or two about her soul's purpose. She is well aware of the legacy that she will leave behind when she crosses the threshold.
Her body may be ravaged by disease or aging. Then again, she may be as flexible and strong as her 90-year-old neighbor who practices yoga and walks a mile or two every day. Keeping the physical body supple and healthy has never been as important as it is now, with a whole Underworld to explore. The Hallowmas woman has not had her moonflow in many years, and to be honest, she doesn't really miss it. She's content to be on the other side of the hormonal veil, and to leave the cycle of fertility and release to younger women.
When the time of All Hallows comes to a woman's soul, she begins to make her peace with Lady Death, and with endings of all kinds. She knows, as the Fates do, that all things must pass. She knows herself as Atropos, She Who Cuts the Thread of Life; as the Queen of Swords, who slices away negativity, confusion, and doubt; as the Blue Dakini, who severs ties. She makes choices: this, she will keep. That, she will let go.
She begins to live as if Lady Death is peeking over her shoulder. Life is stripped down to its essentials. What is really important? In the end, what really matters?
She sorts through the possessions left by her parents and grandparents, after purging and giveaways and purging again. What remains are photographs, wedding rings, a Welsh Bible, a fraying crazy quilt, a fishing hat, a cherished wooden chair...
When we suspect our time might be short, our priorities become quite simple. Finish that painting, that poem, that song; forgive him, and her, and that one too. Spend time with the ones we love; visit the edge of salt water and stones every day. While we're there, be sure to pick up beach glass, then give it away. Sing to the Blessed Mother. Light a candle and breathe a prayer for the wild and holy earth, for the benefit of all beings. Be present to the beauty that surrounds us. Every day is a gift of grace.
The Hallowmas woman has been sitting long enough at the crossroads. The Ancient One emerges from the thicket of thorns, the black hound at her side, a green snake wrapped around her arm. She offers the woman a sliced-open pomegranate, its ruby seeds spilling out. With her inner ear, the woman hears the ritual words: 'Take, eat: the fruit of death, which is life.' She swallows nine pomegranate seeds, savoring the tart, bittersweet flavor on her tongue. The Crone points a bony finger toward one of three paths, and the Hallowmas woman moves on. She casts one last look over her shoulder as she leaves the Underworld, then turns to search for a first glimpse of the New Moon.
On our deathbeds, when we've run out of time, and no more books will be written, no more songs will be sung, and no more canvases will be painted — when that time comes, and we are poised to cross the threshold into the Great Unknown — all that matters is love. The fierce love we've had for the sacred earth, for our friends and family and lovers, and the love that has flowed back to us in return. Our overflowing hearts have been cracked open, mended and broken open again.
All that matters is love."
-Joanna Powell Colbert, from her essay, "The Hallowmas Woman: On the Threshold," published on Witches & Pagans, October 2013
How brave you are for slowing down. For not finishing that to-do list.
How courageous you are for not crossing that finish line, because your body said “enough.”
How fearless you are for choosing the quiet of your soul over
those voices driving you always towards more.
How bold, how rebellious -
you, out there,
honoring your own natural rhythm,
going against the culture’s breakneck speed.
We tend to make heroes of those hungry with ambition,
relentlessly doing, producing always more.
We applaud those who refuse to stop or rest. Who push themselves so hard in the name of achievement, that they sacrifice their body and soul and heart in the process.
We celebrate those who are ill or aging but never show it, never slow down, never reveal a moment of vulnerability.
This drivenness can be heroic, at times. It can be necessary for our survival or the greater good.
But,
I want to make heroes of those who slow down.
I want to make heroes of those who listen to their bodies, who do not strive for more than what the soul truly needs.
I want to make heroes of those who do not force or push, but surrender to each moment as it opens.
I want to applaud those who may not be driven towards success as we know it, but instead are nurturing something deep and subtle and needed.
I want to celebrate those brave enough to cease all doing, even for a second, and sit with the ache in their hearts. A task many find harder than summiting the highest peak.
I want to make heroes of those who honor their limitations. Who are unable to keep up with the busy-ness of our times, yet show up to each profound, necessary moment.
It is truly an act of courage and rebellion to do any such thing, in a world demanding you resist your own self, your own rhythm, your own soul.
And the paradox is, that often when we cease our incessant doing, even for a minute, and listen to that quiet voice within, we discover what it is we absolutely must do, and what instead can fall away.
We finally hear the call towards what serves our soul, and what then will serve the world. Nothing more, nothing less.
A hero is simply someone brave.
So come, be softly brave.
Be a new, quieter kind of hero.
Few may applaud, it’s true, but your soul certainly will.
•
Hiraeth (n.) a homesickness for a home to which you cannot return; a home which maybe never was; the nostalgia, the yearning, the grief for the lost places of your past.
I started calling that girl back. The girl who loved living, the girl who danced instead of walking.
The girl who had sunflowers for eyes and fireworks in her soul.
I started playing music again, hoping she would come out.
I started looking for beautiful moments to experience, so she would feel safe enough to show herself, because I knew she was in there.
And she needed my kindness and my effort to come to the surface again.
~ S.C Lourie
"The girl you once were ,heal for her
The woman you are now,protect her
The Queen you were created to be ,fight for her"
by Morgan Richard Olivier
There is a particular kind of melancholy that settles in when you begin to see the world for what it truly is—when the illusion shatters, and the raw, unfiltered truth of existence reveals itself. It is not the sharp sting of personal loss or the sorrow of fleeting misfortunes, but something deeper, more unsettling. It is the ache of awareness, the quiet grief of understanding too much.
You peer behind the curtain and realize that life, in all its vastness, is not the grand, poetic epic you once imagined—it is a collection of fragile, transient moments, slipping through your fingers even as you try to hold them.
You start to grasp that the fairy tales you once clung to—about love, happiness, and fulfillment—were never meant to last. They were beautiful illusions, comforting myths woven to soften the sharper edges of reality.
Love, which once seemed like an eternal force, now reveals itself to be delicate, ephemeral. It flickers like a candle caught in the wind, vulnerable to time, to distance, to the quiet erosion of unspoken words and unmet expectations. It is not the unbreakable bond the stories promised—it is a fleeting connection, something to cherish while it lasts, but never something to truly possess.
And with this understanding, a quiet sorrow takes root—a sorrow born from the knowledge that nothing, not even the things we hold closest, can ever truly be ours.
Happiness, too, is unmasked. It is not a permanent state, not a reward for effort or virtue, but a passing visitor—appearing in flashes, slipping away the moment we try to capture it.
We chase it, convince ourselves that once we attain it, it will stay, that we will finally be complete. But happiness is fluid, unpredictable. It is the sun breaking through the clouds for a brief, golden moment before vanishing again. The harder we try to grasp it, the more elusive it becomes, and in its absence, we feel its weight even more profoundly.
And then comes the loneliness—the profound disconnection that arises when you see life with new eyes and realize that most people still walk through it unaware. You move through the world feeling untethered, watching others engage in conversations, routines, ambitions, all without questioning, without seeing the fragile impermanence of it all. It is not a loneliness of isolation, but a loneliness of knowing—of carrying a weight that cannot be shared, of longing for a simplicity that can never be regained.
Yet, within this sadness, there is also an unexpected beauty—a quiet reverence for the fleeting nature of all things. To see life clearly is to understand that it is not made up of grand, sweeping moments, but of countless small, delicate ones. The laughter of a friend, the warmth of sunlight on your skin, the brief yet profound feeling of being understood by another soul—these are the threads that weave together the fabric of our existence. They are fragile, impermanent, but perhaps that is what makes them so precious.
In accepting their transience, in embracing the ephemeral nature of everything we love, we find a different kind of peace—not the peace of certainty, but the peace of surrender, of understanding that beauty exists because it is fleeting.
And so, the sadness remains, but it softens into something else—something quieter, something almost sacred. A deep knowing that life was never meant to be grasped or controlled, only witnessed, only felt, only lived.
-
If everything is fleeting, if nothing can truly be held onto, then what does it mean to truly live?
~ Philosophy Insights Philosophy Insights
In response to Hippiegirl's post:
Thank you very much for this.
I have shared it w/ people close to me
BE YOU
Imagine a woman who believes it is right and good she is a woman.
A woman who honors her experience and tells her stories.
Who refuses to carry the sins of others within her body and life.
Imagine a woman who trusts and respects herself.
A woman who listens to her needs and desires.
Who meets them with tenderness and grace.
Imagine a woman who acknowledges the past’s influence on the present.
A woman who has walked through her past.
Who has healed into the present.
Imagine a woman who authors her own life.
A woman who exerts, initiates, and moves on her own behalf.
Who refuses to surrender except to her truest self and wisest voice.
Imagine a woman who names her own gods.
A woman who imagines the divine in her image and likeness.
Who designs a personal spirituality to inform her daily life.
Imagine a woman in love with her own body.
A woman who believes her body is enough, just as it is.
Who celebrates its rhythms and cycles as an exquisite resource.
Imagine a woman who honors the body of the Goddess in her changing body.
A woman who celebrates the accumulation of her years and her wisdom.
Who refuses to use her life-energy disguising the changes in her body and life.
Imagine a woman who values the women in her life.
A woman who sits in circles of women.
Who is reminded of the truth about herself when she forgets.
Imagine yourself as this woman.
II
Imagine a woman who is interested in her own life.
A woman who embraces her life as teacher, healer, and challenge.
Who is grateful for the ordinary moments of beauty and grace.
Imagine a woman who participates in her own life.
A woman who meets each challenge with creativity.
Who takes action on her own behalf with clarity and strength.
Imagine a woman who has crafted a fully-formed solitude.
A woman who is available to herself.
Who chooses friends and lovers with the capacity to respect her solitude.
Imagine a woman who acknowledges the full range of human emotion.
A woman who expresses her feelings clearly and directly.
Who allows them to pass through her as naturally as the breath.
Imagine a woman who tells the truth.
A woman who trusts her experience of the world and expresses it.
Who refuses to defer to the perceptions, thoughts, and responses of others.
Imagine a woman who follows her creative impulses.
A woman who produces original creations.
Who refuses to color inside someone else's lines.
Imagine a woman who has relinquished the desire for intellectual approval.
A woman who makes a powerful statement with every action she takes.
Who asserts to herself the right to reorder the world.
Imagine a woman who has grown in knowledge and love of herself.
A woman who has vowed faithfulness to her own life.
Who remains loyal to herself. Regardless.
Imagine yourself as this woman.
~ Patricia Lynn Reilly, from A God Who Looks Like Me
