Using all my bits to be immense

There is an incredible world out there, in the unseen, the unknown, the ether.  My imagination boggles at what it might be like, the realms where our super-conscious roams, where we are all connected, where there is no space or time, just (just?) an infinity of possibility and connection.

This is where my intuition goes to learn, or maybe it’s where my intuition exists, hanging out having tea with my higher self, idly thrusting little clues through the veil that separates the known from the unknown, a symbol, a moment of inspiration, a feeling to guide me.  I imagine a little sigh, or a chuckle as my higher self raises it’s infinity version of eyebrows at all the other higher selves it’s hanging out with before dunking an infinity version of a custard cream in an infinity version of a cuppa and going back to knowing everything and nothing in a very disconcerting way (I had a feeling I might go a little Terry Pratchett with this one).  Maybe they all raise their infinity version of eyebrows, all the connected souls of the universe having an ‘aw, bless’ moment at my cluelessness.

I love living life in this body of mine, experiencing the world in physical form, existing within those limitations of time and space that make rather wonderful things available to me.  Things like making love, smelling newly mown grass, eating cheesecake, cuddling children, sailing, getting a massage (note to self: get a massage)…(higher priority note to self, get a lover).  If all I did with this body was to enjoy one tender moment looking into my beloved’s eyes, receiving the touch of his fingers on my cheek, the gentlest of kisses connecting us, I feel it would be worth it as far as sensory experiences go.  Multiple daily experiences of touch, smell, taste, sight, sound and thought really up the ante.

The fact that my physical experience of life comes with the endless possibilities of the creative realm, that mad place where my infinitely-connected, etheric self is having tea and biscuits, just makes life rather fantastic.

All the possibilities of the unknown, the insights of intuition, the infinite potential of our creative genius and the limitless perspective of love are there for us to draw into our physical experience of life.  A resource that is always available, but which is nothing without a body through which we can bring our creativity and resourcefulness into the world in their physical form.  Our bodies can enjoy our sensory life, but to reach our full, creative potential we must overcome the separation that is a requirement of existence, and reach through that veil for input from our connected, infinite self.  Sure, that might involve our higher self raising its eyebrows in a slightly condescending way, but like a God, it knows it has no way to express itself without our physicality and will always play ball.

We are separate and connected, in bits and whole, body and spirit, and when we bring all of our self into play, we are immense.

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Swimming My Sub-Conscious Mind

Today starts as a strange day.  I feel heavy, slow, reflective and sleepy.  I am inclined to chase this mood off with action, or worry about coming down with something.  Then I remember that I know this state, and I know what I need here.  I have slipped into a deep place of gentle receptivity.  I am in the creative zone of my feminine aspect, and something is coming.

It feels like I am sitting at the bottom of a deep, dark body of water.  The light is green and obscure, becoming denser dark in the distance.  The weight of the water around me is heavy, soft, holding.

There are shadows in the dark.  Large, threatening creatures with strong jaws and all seeing eyes.  Maybe one is swimming towards me now, muscles bunched for attack, movements sinewy and sure.  But this creature is my creation.  I know it well.  It has served me throughout my life, keeping me on the path of my understood version of what is, of who I believe I am.  Because I know it and see it, it now has no power, just a shadow in the dark that dissolves in my gaze, dropping the pearls it has been obscuring into my lap.

This is the realm of my sub-conscious mind, the home of my creations, and my connection to all creativity.  The work is done and the job now is not to dash in and find what I need, to thrash and splash my way forwards, stirring up silt, obscuring the creation that was just within grasp and sending me off to chase more shadows.  That’s the man within me, still trying to do it right, to act in the familiar ways that I believe get things done, to forge results in the hot fires of my yang energy.  To do well and receive the boost of recognition and validation that comes with compliance and busyness.  I have made things happen using that aspect of me, but I could never hold them together, and I ended up exhausted and sad.  I need him still, he is part of me too, but not today, today belongs to a quieter side of my creativity.

Something is coming to me, something I have, in my patience, created.  I don’t know what it is, but I know it will serve.  I don’t need to know why it is coming, my heart has called it to me.  I don’t need to know when it will arrive, it will be soon and I am ready.  I don’t need to know how, because we never do.  So now I wield the strength and power of my ability to exist in the unknown, where the magic happens, and in softness to receive that which is coming to me out of the dark.

Sex and Sailing

Sex and sailing.  It all comes down to this really.  The heart of my myth is that simple.  Around half a lifetime of experience (all being good, maybe a bit less if I stop drinking like a pirate), four years of challenging myself, giving myself over to my intuition, trying new things, learning about new passions, reflecting lots, freeing myself of the old and embracing the new, and that’s the beautiful core of what I’m about.

To date I’ve been rather more up front in this blog about my love of sailing than my love of sex.  What can I say? I’ve been feeling my way, finding my courage and my own voice of conviction.  There may be some relevance in the fact that I have regrettably chalked up more hours rolling around in boats than in beds in recent times, but nevertheless my reticence to date has more to do with caution than a lack of tales to tell.  Caution isn’t something I’m generally known for, but in this case I’m glad to have entertained it.  The time that I have sat with this has greatly clarified my intention and my purpose in opening up this conversation, as well as bringing me to a place where I simply can’t keep it within me.

The last five months have been a time of personal challenge, of grief and introspection.  Although the cause of that time remains painful, it has nevertheless given me room to reflect and the impetus to make some important choices about my future, about what I stand for.  If I have learnt anything in this time, it is the importance of creating our own story, standing up for what we believe and taking action to bring what we love to life.  I love sex (and sailing) and it is time for me to claim my purpose, to express my passion and engage my voice, the voice that each of us has within us, to explore and address one of the most important aspects of human life.

Sex is a beautiful, wonderful and I fear often mismanaged area of human interaction and potential.  It is a meeting place, a place of love and intimacy, of fun, of incredible pleasure, of connection and of deep creative power.  Sex is also sadly a place of darkness, of power games, of violence, of judgement and shame.  Sex is a powerful indicator of the state of play between man and woman*.  At the micro level sex is one of the first things to be sacrificed within a relationship that is not flourishing.  At the macro level It shows us, through common attitudes and prejudices, social convention and quality of conversation whether or not, as men and women we are engaging with ourselves and each other with the full joy, power and creativity of which we are, each and every one of us, capable.

My choice now is to direct my energy, my skills, my passion and commitment to making the world a sexier place.  A sexier place with boats.

* A major aspect of my interest in sex is in the broader play between masculine and feminine in individuals, in relationships, in business, in government, in communities.  My own experience and insights are those of a heterosexual woman, and much of my language and focus will reflect that.  I believe this conversation is equally valid for gay as for straight people, and welcome input from those with other experiences and perspectives than my own.

The simple myth of a colourful life

Do you have colour in your life?  I try to, and I also realise how quickly, particularly in relationship to my wardrobe, the colour quietly gets stripped away leaving me once again wearing too much functional black and grey.

Most of my clothes are now in storage in preparation for my journeying life and I am left with three core outfits.  I have some beautiful red tops, and the funky furry jacket that was my sister’s till I wore it into becoming mine, but the staples are suddenly very uninspiring.  The lack of choice has brought into stark relief the lack of brilliant colour.

Colour – what is colour?  Colour has a vibration, it prompts feelings and states, resonates with memories and appreciation.  I love colour, I’m throwing everything at creating a vibrant and colourful life, a life that vibrates with love, resonates with brightness and moments of connected joy and appreciation.  Why on earth would I want to do that clad in sombre shades – even with splashes of red?

The little black skirt that I bought last year when I reconnected with the fact that I have lovely legs and there’s no reason not to celebrate that, is now hanging off me.  Time to find something brighter, and possibly even shorter, that fits, and which lights me up when I put it on. I can have fun wielding needle and thread to bring my own colour and creativity to my limited wardrobe.  What little things can I add that will bring more of me to life in what I’m wearing?  It’s time to get creative and colourful, to wear what I love on the outside, as well as nurturing and shaping it on the inside.