Thursday, 29 December 2011


Since I am an adult, the end of the years always makes me nostalgic. It is like a call to look over the year that has past, count my blessings and failures, balance the things I learned. I can't seem able anymore to welcome the new year without saying good bye to the one that passes.

For the first time ever, this year I will welcome the new year without any of my loved ones. No family, no children, no friends that I consider family. Just me and strangers and acquaintances... It should make me sad, but I just laugh at it. If things were different, I would have at least had a boyfriend by my side, and then I would have had to worry about his wishes. But I welcome the thought that things are not different. Because one of the lessons I learned was to be mostly independent. And to trully belong to myself.

Last year I wished for solitude, time to make myself whole again. I did get it. I received enough solitude to read all the books I wanted to read, to take walk alone, time to dedicate to my craft. Other then my children, I had no one to worry about or to please.

2011 was an interesting year.

I fell in love when I wanted least and I had my heart ripped out of me. I managed to cry only a little (couple of hours) after which I decided that keeping the memory of the good times was more important. And I have learned that I am strong, in soul and mind.

It was a year in which I painfully missed my far away family. There were days I would have given anything, just to be with all of them, even if only for a day.

It was an year when I watched my little one finding a dream and flying with it. As a parent, it was an education, a surprise and a blessing.

I found out that I am sick and will always be so. Medication will keep it under control, but it did not change the fact that I am sick. And after feeling pity for myself, I stood up and counted my blessings.

It was an year in which I achieved a semblance of peace with people I did not think I could.

A year in which I learned to say Yes or No, according to my heart's needs. Looking back, I just had to step away from guilt. And what a liberating lesson it was!

A year in which I have truly learned how to love myself through ups and most importantly through downs.

I did not achieve all the things I wanted to achieve, and there were quite a few and harsh set backs. But all in one, it was an important and blessed year for me.

Sunday, 25 December 2011

Christmas and Rain

For me, Christmas has nothing to do with religion. It never did, as far back as I can think. Christmas always was a holiday for the family and loved ones, a holiday for coming together. It was a holiday of being close and enjoying a break from the insanity of life.

Christmas means snow falling from the sky in an endless dance of joy. Nights with dark orange sky and fresh snow shining like diamonds. Smoke lifting into the sky like gray doric columns from tall brick chimneys. Mountains covered in white, only the dark green of firtrees breaking the heavy blanket of white. Cold, very cold, and children that ignored it on in snow ball fights.

Christmas means children singing carols from door to door for hot bread, and money and nuts. It means trees that smell of forests raisig tall with gloges and lights. Days of cooking and white tablecloths. Christmas means families getting together.

Or at least, this is what Christmas used to mean. Sitting with my brother undr the tree, next to a hot terrcotta stove, telling stories and sharing dreams. Cooking with my mother in the kitchen and gossiping with my sister. A glass of crisp red wine with my father. Presents opened late at night in the Christmas Eve.

It is nt the same anymore. Now Christmas means endless days of rain. Maybe not to the extent it used to. This year the entire summer is only dark, gray, killing rain.

It is now living out of memories and tears from missing my loved ones. A plactic green tree that I decorate wth my children at the begining of December. Cooking mostly on my own, dishes innapropiate to the heat of Australia. Presents opened while the sun is still up behind the clouds on Christmas Eve. The carols come off YouTube, and start with adds.

Only my children are here. I drink a glass of wine only with myself as company, dreaming of being there, far away, with crisp smell of snow and a family that is way too far away, on the other side of the planet...

Christmas now is only rain and bitter knowing that one more year has passed since I could be with my loved ones.

Thursday, 22 December 2011

Low and High

Lately I felt low, down, melting into the hot asphalt with no power left to pull myself up. Usually it is easy for me to find enough joy in little things to pull myself out from the hole my soul chooses to hide in. But not lately.

I allowed stress to eat away at me as it used to in long ago past days. I allowed myself to be dragged into situations I promised myself I will never be again. Maybe I needed a reminder or maybe I just forgot. Once I went down, everything else came crashing. Black thoughts of not being good enough, black thoughts of self loathing. I forgot that the me I am needed love, self love as much as everyone else around me. Giving without replenishing myself left me empty and lost.

I forgot about my connection to the Universe, I forgot about myself. Give, give, give with no moment of peace, because peace resides in myself and carelessly I threw it away.

And empty, without the cane of support I used to offer myself, I got dragged deeper and deeper in a world without light or darkness. The ever judging ego screams at me that I should have known better. That I have enough experience not to be fooled by illusions. And yet, at those moments, I knew no better.

Everything happens for a reason, or so my lucid contemplation of my life says. Maybe if I did not allow myself to go so down, I would have paid no attention to the screams of my body. Just maybe. A million hammers pounding in my head would have been hard to ignore. Or maybe I would have succeeded in keeping my ego busy enough not to notice. I am good at being busy and filling every moment to the max. But usually I am aware of it and I admit that to myself enough to give my mind, body and soul a break. Not this time. And because I was too down to really care about anything else, I got the chance to hear my body crying me, me. And the chance to observe myself eating pain killers like lollies.

Not that I like tablets. The only tablets I like are the very old ones, made of earth or stone that the ancients used instead of paper. But when I am busy, it is easy to forget or ignore exactly how many I swallow to push myself through yet another day filled to the brim. But with my ego hurt enough to be down, I could pay attention to the rest.

To how my body felt like after a night of carrying rocks. How my head hurt like being pounded by hammers. How sick I was.

I am arrogant. Arrogant enough not to accept the fact that one of the only things I take for granted might give up on me and yell for me to stop. Arrogant enough to say that all is good when it is not so. Arrogant enough to think that I am invincible.

But I am not. And for once, I did the right thing by my body. Low enough to not want to do anything else except mopping around saying poor me, I noticed how I chewed on codeine and ibuprofen, one after another until I managed to get rid of the plaguing headaches, but to feel even more sick then before. I went to the doctor, a thing that I normally avoid. Cleansing my chakras, connecting to the Universe is enough for me to be OK, so doctors are rare in my life. Better said, I only visit one when I am threatened and bullied into it. Not that I am against doctors. I take my kids to them often enough.

Long story short, after enough of my poor me I'm fine but I'm not routine, I ended up going to one. I am wise enough to have known in big part the whys of feeling so sick. I was proved right in terms of why. My ego can take satisfaction in that. But in the same time, I was reduced to a whiny child when I found out I left it going for long enough to put my own life in danger. Prime example of arrogance. So, I am not fine. As a matter of fact, without doping myself with medications, I will never be fine.

Not a pleasant thought at the best of times. For me, arrogant and proud to never admit exactly how hard things are, it is even more so. But it does hurt and quite plainly I don't like it. It could have been worse. No matter how bad things are, they can always be worse, and I was never that arrogant as not to see that. So while I do count my lucky stars and everyone that bullied me into checking it, it is still hard. Hard enough to make me mop around even more. Poor me. I will never be healthy again. Poor me, my life as I knew it is over. If I am to be honest, my life as I knew it was over about one year ago. Or maybe more. But it still does not change the fact that until not long ago my well stocked medicine cabinet was never used.

I am happy not to take pain killers as lollies. And as much as I could, I did avoid it. But not in a wise way. Ok, I am sick. I will always be sick if I don't take a handful of pills a day. Brrr... Boo hoo... It still did not change the fact that I was doing my Christmas shopping feeling very sorry for myself. To make things worse, my feet clad in dainty high heels, were killing me after hours of walking in them. Another reason to feel even more sorry for myself.

As I was walking around the very pretty and modern shopping center, pushing the full trolley ahead of me, I stopped my a stall. So many delicate and beautiful things, made from heart. Admiring them, a shadow of a smile played on the corner of my lips. As I turned to go, something turned my head one last time. In front of me, in the same place I looked three times before, a lovely jade set of runes. I am a Witch, even though a stupid one at times. Maybe not stupid. Just arrogant enough to be stupid. Anything mystical attracts me like a bee to a flower. Did I mention that I actually dislike jade? I do. It is the only crystal I can not stand. But today, looking at it, I did not see the prejudice I carry around. All I have seen was a beautiful set of stones, hand carved and hand inscribed. 

I don't know if it is beautiful. For me, as I seen it with electric light playing on the inch long piece of rocks, emanating a light of their own, so pure, they were magical. Magical enough to zap me to reality. With a smile on my face, I accepted that some people are worse then the worst. I also accepted that I am sick. No hiding around, no dumb rebellion, no poor me. I am sick. Bravo. Done. Said and accepted. But that does not change the light inside of me, inside the jade I truly seen for the first time in that brief look. It does not changes who or what I am. I am still a mother, a daughter, a sister, a friend, a lover. I still love the sun shine playing on green leaves between the clouds. I still take photos, I still read my books... I am the same. Still me.

Holding the runes, the jade I felt love for that first time, it daunted on me that I still love the same things, just maybe with another layer of understanding. And I still love myself, no matter what changes. The light inside the jade, the magic of the runes, entered my soul and reflected all around me, in my connection to the Universe that was still perfect. That will always be perfect. In forgetting to love myself, I automatically forgot to love the All around me.  Falling in love with a piece of All was falling in love again with the All, including myself. Magic will always be around me as long as I accept it, as long as I want it.

With a smile shining on my face, I knew happiness. True happiness that comes from openly loving. And with love, hope and trust, acceptance and power weave together again to form happiness. 

Thursday, 15 December 2011


Lately I find myself more and more in the position of explaining my believes... And it is hard... How can one explain the knowing of the soul and all those little things that are beyond the words... How can one explain the Divine in letters... How can one explain that which has no label?

It is easy for me to explain what I am not... But being not leaves me with the necessity of putting into human words what I am...

I believe in more then one god, which I prefer to call a Goddess, and yet I am not a polytheist. Because for me, all gods and One God, all goddesses One Goddess and God and Goddess One thing that has no word. So maybe I just believe in The One that is All and yet everything. The One that is me and the rock, my child and the river, my friend and the skies, my enemy and yet the air, and fire, and wind...

I am in the same time a slave and a master, as there are no boundaries... I am the daughter, and yet I am the rivers and the oceans, the light and the dark, the Moon and the stars, the dawn and the dusk... I am the daughter and yet I am the trees that bend in the wind and the wind itself, the springs that start high and the mountains themselves, the Sun and the fire from the beginning of time... I am Me, and yet I am One with everything from the beginning of nothing until the end of All... Because I am All and All is Me, in a circle with no beginning and no end...

I believe in this God that I call a Goddess as giver of life, that is All and yet nothing... Wisdom and pain, blessing and curse, life and death... Maybe my All is the life then ends in death just to be reborn again as Life...

I believe in magic and the Witch as the old wisdom that is so easily lost in a battle for power. Being the All and yet nothing at all, I believe that I can shape my reality... Being just energy I can bend the energy according to my will. And yet while I have complete freedom, to do the good or bad that might be the good that is bad and the bad that is good, I can harm none without having to pay the price of tying myself down into someone else reality...

And yet I believe in those things I see and I feel... The Moon that has the power over my body and my planet... The planet as Earth and giver of life, hence as the Mother... I believe in spring as the Virgin, in summer as the Mother, in autumn as the Crone and winter as Ianus the god that looks one side to the past in death and the other to the future in life... I believe in Yin and Yang as The One that is neither male nor female, neither good nor bad...

How can the All be anything but neither good nor bad since the rain has the power of life and blessing but also of death and curse in floods... When the sun, the very same sun can make my plants grow and yet starve to death another? How can I believe into pure good and pure bad when I have the power to happiness and pain, mine and another?

And more, how can I reject the dark when only out of dark light can come to life? How can I reject the part of me and of All that suffers and lies broken only to find the magic of raising again, wiser then before? How can I only love the light when it would not exist without the dark to show it off? How can I believe only in good when I owe my wisdom to the dark times that nearly broke me?

And like the All that I call god, how can I not believe in that which most call magic? How can I not when from myself I can heal another? How can I not when wishes upon the stars that die come true? And yet, magic like the All is neither good, nor bad... It just Is...

I believe that life is fallowed by death fallowed by rebirth... and how can I not when my plants that die with winter get new leaves in spring, the same plant and yet another? How can I not when the sun raises and goes away each dawn and each dusk? How can I not when every winter is fallowed by another spring?

How can i not believe in the All as Goddess as Virgin, Mother and Crone when the one cycle of the seasons is so? How can I not when I, myself went from the carefree virgin to the powerful mother and going soon to what I hope will be the old wise woman? How can I not believe in the All as both male and female when life exists not without both?

I don't know what label to put on my believes. Pagan and Wiccan are the closest I have, but I can put no labels on That that has no label...

Long Lost

I remember a time when I did not know I was free and yet I was more so then ever after. I remember of time of innocence when everything was possible and dreams had no strings to tie them up to the Earth I belong to. If I allow myself to go down on the memory lane, I can still feel the magic and the promises, I can still feel my soul stirring towards new boundaries...

I remember a young woman, no more a child and in the same time not yet a woman, walking in a summer afternoon towards a dusty library where stories from afar were waiting to be discovered. And later, in the green grass, under the deep blue sky, protected by my mountains, I could get lost in stories that belonged to other times and other places. I was trying then, in those long summers of freedom, to understand love and responsibility, morals and histories, winner and looser. And in those long ago summers everything was black and white, with clear posts to announce the ways, with boundaries that could not be crossed.

Little did I know that nothing was so clear, that in order to pay for my dreams I had to let scattered pieces of my heart. Little did I know then that good can result in bad, or that I will ever be grateful of the moments of sorrow... No matter what dusty books were saying, everything was simple for me then...

And yet, as other summers passed on the journey of no return, the days got shorter and the summers shrunk away in a never ending circle of decision making... I thought then, so long ago, that love can conquer everything... But no story went far enough to show me what happens when love dies away and one is faced with wrong over wrong decisions... I thought that faced with love was a blessing that I wished for... And even after I had my heart broken in million little pieces, I still wished for love...

I did not know then that love an heal equally as much as it can destroy... Little did I know that most of the good deeds I was doing to offer would be recognized in sorrow and betrayal... Little did I know that gods would change for me and with them my illusions would be lost...

And now, when summers fly away with me barely aware that yet another year is gone, I find myself grateful for the sorrow that strengthened my soul, grateful for having my heart broken to the point f having to rebuild it, grateful for every new beginning that was an ending in itself... And yet, with the wisdom of today, I miss the long lost summers with their freedom and not knowing...

Tuesday, 6 December 2011

Good? Bad?

I am a good person. Mostly. But I am good enough to consider other people needs and from the little I have to share with the ones that have less. I'm not only talking about tax deductible money for charities. I'm also talking about emptying my change into the hat of a beggar. About in general sharing what I have.

Sometimes that sharing is only being a smart assed clown to bring a smile on the face of a person that feels low. Other times is offering a little gift to someone I don't know. And yet other times is putting myself in danger to help someone that is clearly in danger.

When I do it, I don't wonder if I am being good or bad or just insane and irresponsible. I just do it because someone needs it more then I do. I am the type of person that picks up other people rubbish to keep the planet a tiny bit cleaner. That donates blood and signed the papers to be used as a donor if something happens with me. It is just who I am.

Oh, I used to be arrogant and stingy. Maybe because I had never been on the other side of the barricade, because I never needed anything from anyone. But the hard way, I learned how it is to go without. Without many things. And even if sometimes I still do ithout, I had learned the lesson of compassion and generosity from others that had generosity and compassion for me when I needed it most.

Anyhow... I tried to help someone in need and I ended up with my home trashed and getting the blame for it...

Thursday, 1 December 2011

Moon- Mother and Child

I feel the Moon caressing my eyes. Soft, so soft touch that i can feel it all the way into my soul. Silvery queen, forever the same, forever changing. And i remember the Moon, so shining and so gentle, rising between mountains full of mysteries and strength.

I open my hand and softly hold onto a ray of light that guided me through days and listen through my nights. I have no more secrets, I have no more dreams to offer the Queen, so i just let it touch me like a silver mesh. It reaches deep whiting my soul, cleansing and comforting like a Mother. I feel how it tugs to a string of my heart, and hear the voice that gently, but firmly pushes. But i lack the courage to listen to the Moon, as much today as ever.

A soft smile lifts my lips and i give myself to the Moon as i never gave myself to another. Memories of lost days of suffering and self inflicted pain, pass though my eyes. I try to stop them, to shake them, to hide away or silence them, but the Moon light shines within my soul and keeps me prisoner to my own memories. The tiny toddler begging a grandmother not to die, an older child frozen in fear of an adult, a teenager with the confidence of a dead butterfly. I see them all as they were, but for once, under the gently tugging of the Moon, i see them as they belong to another. A toddler, a child, a teenager. Me and yet not me. I feel love for the toddler that cried, i feel love for the child that never dared, i feel love for the teenager that did not believe. With the aid of the Moon, i reach out to them in a loving embrace and tell them that they are loved and it was not their fault. And my soul fills with love as my eyes fill with the Moon light. I see the young woman that used to be. I shut my eyes, trying not to see the mistakes, the blame, the pain, but the Moon is stronger then me and shines between my eye lids. I look up asking for mercy, asking to stop. It is so beautiful, so gentle that i can not refuse to let it into my soul. The woman. The woman is me and yet just another young lost woman. I reach to her and hug her tight asking to stop blaming herself, but that does not help and eases no torment, so i hug tighter and i kiss and surrounded by love and forgiveness, by acceptance and understanding, the woman smiles, melts into the toddler, into the child, into the teenager, into me.

Under the Moon i start dancing, twirling around and much later, i lie on the grass, eyes to the Moon, soul open until there is no me, and no Moon but only one in many.

As the Moon hides between the trees to leave space for the energy of Sun, i open my eyes and call: "Mother! You are the Mother and the daughter, the wise and the innocent!" The last of the Moon smiles like a Mother and whispers: "So are you, my child! So are you." Tears sting in my eyes, in happiness for belonging, for accepting, for loving, for forgiving.

Day after day and night after night i watch the Moon and include it as part of my soul, allowing it with gratitude, to teach me the power of love, the power of the Mother.