Ask the Priestess

I was in the tube (subway over the pond) and I saw this couple kissing. Awwww, nice! It does my heart good to see love. Then, I realised the silence. Now, it's hard to hear silence while hurtling along a maze underground on rickety metal tracks. But it was very much there. So I paid attention, and I also realised that the silence was not in the environment, or the people chatting. It was the couple, who had stopped giggling and cooing, and were just kissing. Love is very quiet when we kiss. It made me think (what doesn't?) and love the fact that while we can be all chatty when we are simply together, the deeper we connect, the less we need to say. We just communicate - silently, deeply, wholly. So now, I'm going to be silent. Because I want you all to turn to all those you love and simply kiss them. Kiss your children, your spouse, your parent, your parents, your friends. Kiss them, but say not a word. Because love needs no words.

We all cover ourselves, a logical activity to protect ourselves from the elements. In these cold winter days, particularly if like me you live in a snowy, wet country, layers and layers become caring hugs, warm embraces, portable nests. There are few things more certain to win a sigh of contentment than a frostbitten nose hiding behind a furry scarf, the ice melting in the vapour of one's own body heat. And therein lies the question: have we taken all this love of layers and protection too far for our own good? Certainly, we need to shield our bodies from the weather. That is indisputable, even foolish to consider otherwise (at least, I'd think that of anyone who decides to go out in a blizzard wearing short sleeves, for example).  However, it seems to me that we have taken to adapting the practice to areas of ourselves beyond the merely bodily. We have become, in fact, adept at layering our every reality, every aspect of our personalities, of our thoughts, of our spirits....

P'atrás, ni pa´coger impulso. This may sound (let alone look) exotic to some of you, but it is merely a Spanish saying that loosely translates as 'don't go back even to gain momentum'. I have long believed in this maxim. The future is forward, not behind you; therefore, we should only look and move forward, never behind/backward. I am very blessed to be learning a lot, recently. Yet one of the things I have learned is that this bit of popular wisdom is not quite as right as I always made it out to be. It has taken me many a moment of teeth gritting and consternation; of fear of repeating mistakes; of accepting defeat; of having lost a chunk of my life. But I have to accept what is there: I seem to have created my life of three years ago, again. Grrr!! Grrr? Why am I upset? Although it used to have a quick answer (see above for a 'hint'), that reply is not good enough any more. Certainly, I get angry at my own need to revisit situations. I mean, is the sa...

And so, the year ended. Another year, another end. Another beginning. As a species, we have the marvelous gift of creating new starting points for our lives. We set up dates and hours when we make a cycle end and another commence. Thus, most cultures have set 'new year days' that somehow become momentous despite a certain amount of arbitrary definition. The most arbitrary, interestingly, is the most widespread - the celebration of 31st December/1st January threshold. I mean, after all, the year itself was designed for an emperor and re-designed for a pope. Not really something that really concerns most of us, let alone the flow in nature. And yet, this pivot point IS powerful. Despite the randomness, despite the awkwardness of ending a 12th month named after a 10th by replacing it with a month named after a god, and even despite our modern scientific thinking, it is powerful. We gather together, we party, we are enveloped in good will to each other, we revise our lives an...

Structures make us feel good, grounded, certain, safe. They help us make decisions without having to really consider whether they are going to bring us beyond the limits of ourselves, or trap us within. Sadly, the latter is the most common. Structures come in all shapes and sizes. Sure, we all know the 'megastructures' of our physical world, including things such as buildings and houses, but also rules of behaviour set down by society/government: working hours, educational requirements, which side of the road to drive down, how to address each other, what's appropriate attire for a specific event, how to pray, etcetera. Then, there are the individual structures, those which we have built around ourselves in order to have a certain order in life: the people we spend time with, the kind of music we listen to, where we live, our jobs, how we evaluate others' actions and our moral code, what is a reasonable aspiration, and so on. The question is whether we need all, o...

Children have no real innate fear. We should learn from them. I was sitting on a hill in a park in Bristol, quite pleased with myself for being where few others were (most people were lying down on the flatter parts, enjoying the sun). Then, to my right, a young boy appeared. And then, his bother did too! They waited until their mother went around the hill and then, zooooom!! Ran right down the pretty steep slope. They had so much momentum, they would cross the path to partly climb the opposite hill before they could stop themselves. And there was my head going 'oh, dear, oh, dear, careful...' But then I realised that, if they had thought they had to be careful, they would not have been able to run so safely, surefooted and upright. How often do we heed the warning, and mess up as a result? Well, I don't know about you, but in my case, way too many. That's not to say I've spent my life as a hothouse plant, rather that sometimes I am aware I could have done so ...

Every thing must have its beginning celebrated. After all, it is a miracle – that which was not, now is, like the first ‘1’ of the Fibonacci sequence. So, I am celebrating the beginning of this computer, of this new period in my life, creation and all. Not all beginnings are auspicious, however. Some are downright disheartening. But if we had no moments to make us take stock and realise what is the real value of what we are facing, what we are interested in, well then, we would simply miss the chance to celebrate all those new chances! I am at a time where everything is a question mark, everything a chance, everything a celebration. And yes, I am riddled with anxiety at the prospect, plagued with doubts whether I am making the right choices, using up my chances wisely. I am also living through moments of excruciating pain, of grief, or sorrow for that which was, and now is not. Still, I keep going, aware of the goal, the focus of my heart, the reality of my Being. Letting go of...