Category: quotes

…she was able to ware proudly her passion for life, instead of her heart on her sleeve. She knew to hold herself back because she valued herself. she knew her price-priceless. She knew that the kind of love she gave was only going to go to somebody worthy of it. When your young your self-worth comes from being loved by other people; but by the time you are a woman with a past, you know your value, and you love yourself. That’s where your self-worth comes from. No man can ever give you your self-worth, but you can let plenty rob you of it. On the surface it would seem she is self-centered, which she is. But self-centered in the best possible way; being centered in the truth of who she is. Her authentic self.  A woman who knows this deserves nothing less than to be loved truly madly deeply. Unconditionally. Devotedly. Exclusively. A woman who will not settle for anything less. Because that is the only way she knows how to love.

-Sarah Ban Breathnach

 

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I have been confused and troubled by love for my life. I know i  have wanted to believe that love is something only another can give to you, like a precious gift  perfectly wrapped, a gift that would always remain the same, unable to be moved by life and harsh circumstances.  I always wanted to believe that it is possible for another to give you the things that you were missing from your own beliefs, that they may just be able to fill the gaps, build you up, see your potential, even if you really couldn’t see or believe these things for yourself.  I wanted to believe it to be this way, because i thought it was easier. There is no need for me to do anything. No need for me to do the hard work of discovering it for myself, within myself, by myself.  It’s easier to accept and embrace the precious gift from another. What i have learnt, is that this rarely works. The very things we are looking for outside of ourselves, for love to provide us with, can never be found out there. It will never really exist there, unless of course, it already exists within you. It’s always nice in the beginning, your love see’s you the way you want to see yourself, you fall in love with the idea they have of you. It’s always a nice idea but it can never be a lasting idea because you don’t for a second believe it to be true for yourself. And that is the only place where love can begin. What i know now is, love doesn’t ask that we change or bend ourselves, it’s doesn’t require us to hide or manipulate truths about who we really are, or ask that we deny any part of ourselves that don’t seem to fit. Love requires nothing, it just is. It doesn’t need to be built up, explained or begged for, it doesn’t even need recognition or admiration, love just simply exists and i understand now, that i must be all that i am seeking, i must journey within and discover that great love for myself, by myself, only then will i truly be able to share it with another.

 

words and lemon thyme butter biscuits

‘It is worse to stay where one does not belong at all than to wonder about lost for a while and looking for a psychic and soulful kinship one requires. It is never a mistake to search for what one requires. Never.’

-Clarissa Pinkola Estes

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She has up until this point tried to go without her soul life. That was never going to be enough. There comes a time when beginning again is necessary. Stripping back the layers of any delusions she has built up around herself over the years, revealing what lies beneath. This will take sometime, many moments requiring patients and the deepest of commitment to herself. She will begin the decent, travelling the road into the depths of her own intricate self. It could possibly be the most important journey she is ever going to take. For some, this time never comes, for others it comes with great fears attached, tremendous risks or copious hurts. The beginning of the decent usually comes without choice, it presents with a sense of urgency, it is a matter of survival, not of the hungry kind, we are talking about something much deeper than that. One where she knows, if she allows things to remain the same, that she most definitely will not survive. That any truth of her own will be lost, that she will lose her ‘self’ in this life she is moving through. There is a part in the back of her mind that is all-consuming with a terrifying fear, one that she has never before experienced, one that says don’t do it, stay here, safe and hidden in this story you have created for yourself. It is here in this moment that she must gather all that she knows to be true about herself, draw deeply on her faith and instinctual self and go, in a way that she knows she must. It is here, where she let’s go, of all that she knows to be true, of any safe haven she had, leaving her only with her own vulnerability in the palms of her hands. She does ‘this in order to learn her way, in order to clear her way, to the true and wild self.’

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lemon thyme butter biscuits

ingredients:125 g butter,softened,100g caster sugar,1 free-range egg,200g plain flour,zest of 2 lemons,¼ teaspoon baking powder,1 pinch sea salt,3 tablespoons demerara sugar, juice of a lemon, 1/3cup icing sugar, Few sprigs of thyme

method: Beat the butter and sugar in a bowl with an electric mixer until light and creamy. Add the egg and beat until light and fluffy. Add the flour, lemon zest, baking powder and salt and mix until you have a ball of dough. Cover and place in the fridge for 1 hour, or until firm.
Preheat your oven to 180°C. Roll out the dough on a floured surface until ½cm thick. Using a cookie cutter, cut the dough into desired shape and place onto a lined baking tray. Bake for 10 to 12 minutes or until the edges are light brown. Transfer to a wire rack to cool completely before icing. Mix the icing sugar and add the juice of a lemon slowly until the desired consistency is reached, aim for thick pouring cream consistency, too thin and it will run off the biscuits. Sprinkle with demerara sugar and tiny sprigs of thyme. Set in the fridge for an hour before serving. Place in a jar or air tight container in the fridge to keep.

Slightly varied butter biscuit recipe, Jamie Oliver, Ref -Clarissa Pinkola Estes, Women who run with the wolves

 

 

alright then..

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“Advice? I don’t have advice. Stop aspiring and start writing. If you’re writing, you’re a writer. Write like you’re a goddamn death row inmate and the governor is out of the country and there’s no chance for a pardon. Write like you’re clinging to the edge of a cliff, white knuckles, on your last breath, and you’ve got just one last thing to say, like you’re a bird flying over us and you can see everything, and please, for God’s sake, tell us something that will save us from ourselves. Take a deep breath and tell us your deepest, darkest secret, so we can wipe our brow and know that we’re not alone. Write like you have a message from the king. Or don’t. Who knows, maybe you’re one of the lucky ones who doesn’t have to.”

— Alan Watts

 

thank you

she is..

She is the masters finishing touch. Eve is the crown of the creation, Not an after thought. She is Gods final touch, his pièce de résistance. She fills a place in this world nothing and no one else can fill. Look out across the earth and say to yourself.. The whole vast world is incomplete without me.

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.. this is what it is like to be with a woman at rest, a woman comfortable in her feminine beauty. She is enjoyable to be with. She is lovely in her presence. Your heart stops holding its breath. You relax and believe once again that all will be well.

 

-John and Stasi Eldredge, Captivating

 

hitting the ground

 Even though she might.. hit bottom via famine, capture, injured instinct, destructive choices and all of the rest, remember at the bottom is where the living roots of psyche are. It is there that a womans wild underpinnings are. At bottom is the best soil to sow and grow something new again. In that sence, hitting bottom, while extremely painful, is also the sowing ground.

-Clarissa Pinkola Estes, Women Who Run With the Wolves

 

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Instinct is a difficult one to define, for its configurations are invisible and though we sence they have been part of human nature since the begining of time; no one knows quite where they might be housed neurologically or precicly how they act upon us.

 

 

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Without warning, sometimes life just calls for us to hit the ground. To do nothing except be with whatever it is that has called us there. Most of the time for women this fall is unexpected and abruptly interferes with the routines we have created and the taking care of the children.  We are, all at once forced to pay attention to ourselves and see what it is that has sent us suddenly plummeting.  I have always thought myself to be in-touch with this inner knowing, wisdom of my own truth, I know now, that this too can get entangled and in a way lost within our all too busy and full lives. If we allow ourselves to wander too far astray from this unique and mysterious magic within ourselves by being too compliant, too good, too accommodating, too obliging, trying to bend and shape ourselves into something that clearly doesn’t fit, we are in danger of losing touch with our deepest intuition. “Instead of living freely, she begins to live falsely.’  Our intuitive nature  gives us the ability to know our own truth, to see the unseen, to feel the truth of something before it is presented to us. ‘…to strip away her intuitive nature, her natural curiosity..  (which) leads her to discover “what lies underneath” and beyond the obvious,’ is devastating to the soul of the woman. Women have a way of losing themselves so to speak, in the raising of the children, in the taking care of others, the house, their husbands, their jobs, always serving themselves last. She drinks the cold cup of tea, allows all she loves and sometimes doesn’t to walk before her, that’s just what we do, we save ourselves for later.  We do this because we love and care deeply. We see the ones around us so clearly that we make way, allow them to step first in their lives. If women do this without balance, without coming from a place of their soul truth, they are in danger of finding themselves lost within a world that isn’t entirely theirs, one where the windows of life that have a way of opening as we move forward on our paths, suddenly are closed. By not being completely true with ourselves we are out of alignment with this Life force. The Life force that resides within us. As women it is vital that every spoon we feed into the mouths of our babies, we first spoon into ourselves. At times throughout our lives it becomes necessary to dispose of the old clothes, the ones ‘which have become slackened from the wearing. The clothes are like us, worn and worn until our ideas and values are slackened by the passing of time.’ in the doing for others and not paying attention to our own inner desires closely enough. This is when we hit the ground, this is where the renewal, the revivifying, takes place.. in the re-discovering of what we really hold to be true, what we really hold sacred.

For many women, this task requires that they clear a time each day for contemplation, for a space to live in that is clearly their own with paper, pens, paints,tools, conversations, time, freedoms that are for this work only. Each woman has her own preferences, her own way.

 

the woman within

I had two watershed experiences when I was in my early twenties, experiences that went against everything I had been taught about my body up to then. While at a women’s weeklong gathering and at night at the fire near the hot springs, I saw a naked woman of about thirty-five; her breasts were emptied out by childbearing her belly strained from birthing children. I was very young and I remember feeling sorry for the assaults on her fair and thin skin.

Some one was playing.. and she began to dance, her hair, her breasts, her skin, her limbs all moving in different directions. How beautiful she was, how vital. Her grace was heartbreaking. … that night I saw it. I saw what I had been taught to ignore, the power of a womans body when it is animated from the inside.

-Clarissa Pinkola Estes, Women Who Run With the Wolves

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begin here, with your daughters and sons, mothers fight the ever-growing war against this illusion of sculpting our bodies as though we were not born perfectly into this world. Teach your daughters to love themselves from the inside out. Teach your sons that we are perfect in all our flaws,  that really the flaws are an illusion in its self.  That our bodies are going to grow and change as we do, that never throughout our lives will we stay the same nor should we feel we have to. It is in our child baring years that we feel this most. It is in these years that loving ourselves and the body we wear needs our greatest admiration, for how perfectly they are able to stretch and define themselves around new life, sometimes leaving us with deep blue and purple scars that remain as reminders of how we once carried another within ourselves. Let us rid ourselves of this belief that we are meant to conceptually fit  some unattainable idea of ourselves, before and after we carry our children. Let us change the minds of our teenage daughters and ease them  of the heavy burdens they believe their bodies to be. Let us teach our sons to look deeper, that the real beauty of a woman lies deep within her layers, that they will never find what they are looking for if they are only ever to look at her from the outside.

the interior castle

 

the calling

There is a secret place.  A radiant sanctuary.  As real as your own kitchen. More real than that. Constructed of the purest elements. Overflowing with ten thousand beautiful things. Worlds within worlds. Forests, rivers. Velvet coverlets thrown over featherbeds, fountains bubbling beneath a canopy of stars. Bountiful forests, universal libraries. A wine cellar offering an intoxication so sweet you will never be sober again. A clarity so complete you will never again forget.

This magnificent refuge is inside you. Enter. Shatter the darkness that shrouds the doorway. Step around the poisonous vipers that slither at our feet, attempting to throw you off your course. Be bold. Be humble. Put away the incense and forget the incarnations they taught you. Ask no permission from the authorities. Slip away. Close your eyes and follow your breath to the still place that leads to the invisible path that leads you home.

Listen. Softly, the One you love is calling. Listen. At first you will only hear traces of his voice. Love letters he drops for you in hiding places. In the sound of your baby laughing, in your boyfriend telling you a dream, in a book about loving kindness, in the sun dripping down below the horizon and a peacock’s tail of purple and orange clouds unfolding behind it, in the nameless sorrow that fills your heart when you wake in the night and remember that the world has gone to war and you are powerless to break up the fight. Let the idle chatter between friends drop down to what matters. Listen. Later his voice will come closer. A whisper you’re almost sure is meant for you fading in and out of a cacophony of thoughts, clearer in the silent space between them. Listen. His call is flute music, far away, coming closer.

Be brave a walk through this country of your own wild heart. Be gentle and know that you know nothing. Be mindful and remember that every moment can be a prayer. Melting butter, scrambling eggs, lifting fork to mouth, praising God. Typing your daughters first short story, praising God. Losing your temper and your dignity with someone you love, praising God. Balancing ecstasy with clear thinking, self-control with self-abandon. Be still. Listen. Keep walking.

What a spectacular kingdom you have entered! Befriending the guards and taming the lions at the gates. Sliding through a crack in the doorway on your prayer rug. Crossing the moat between this world and that , walking on water if you have to, because this is your rightful place. That is your Beloved reclining in the innermost chamber, waiting for you, offering wine from a bottle with your crest on the label. Explore. Rest if you have to, but don’t go to sleep. Head straight for his arms.

And when you have dismissed the serpents of vanity and greed, conquered the lizards of self-importance, and lulled the monkey mind to sleep, your steps will be lighter. When you have given up everything to make a friend a cup of tea and tend her broken heart, stood up against the violation of innocent children and their fathers and mothers, made conscious choices to live simply and honor the earth, your steps will be lighter. When you have grown still on purpose while everything around you is asking for your chaos, you will find the doors between every room of this interior castle thrown open, the path home to your true love unobstructed after all.

No one else controls access to this perfect place. Give yourself your own unconditional permission to go there. Absolve yourself of missing the mark again and again. Believe the incredible truth that the Beloved has chosen for his dwelling place the core of your own being because that is the single most beautiful place in all of creation. Waste no time. Enter the center of your soul.

 

-Mirabai Starr, The Interior Castle 

I have lots of things to teach you now..

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I have lots of things to teach you now, in case we ever meet, concerning the message that was transmitted to me under a pine tree in North Carolina on a cold winter moonlit night.

It said that Nothing Ever Happened, so don’t worry. It’s all like a dream. Everything is ecstasy, inside. We just don’t know it because of our thinking-minds. But in our true blissful essence of mind is known that everything is alright forever and forever and forever.

Close your eyes, let your hands and nerve-ends drop, stop breathing for 3 seconds, listen to the silence inside the illusion of the world, and you will remember the lesson you forgot, which was taught in immense milky way soft cloud innumerable worlds long ago and not even at all.

It is all one vast awakened thing. I call it the golden eternity.It is perfect. We were never really born, we will never really die.

It has nothing to do with the imaginary idea of a personal self, other selves, many selves everywhere: Self is only an idea, a mortal idea. That which passes into everything is one thing. It’s a dream already ended.

There’s nothing to be afraid of and nothing to be glad about. I know this from staring at mountains months on end. They never show any expression, they are like empty space. Do you think the emptiness of space will ever crumble away? Mountains will crumble, but the emptiness of space, which is the one universal essence of mind, the vast awakenerhood, empty and awake, will never crumble away because it was never born.”

-Jack Kerouac