The coyote appeared half a block ahead of me. His brown pointy ears and quick stride gave him away. This was no lost neighbor’s dog racing across 36th Avenue bounding off down Franklin. This was one of our urban coyotes who takes cats and birds and left half a squirrel on my back patio last summer.
Earth is speaking to us and more and more people are awakening each day to her messages. The evidence of a whole new earth culture rising is visible in all the efforts towards sustainability and righting our relationship with nature.
Sometimes you try to keep things a secret but the Universe has other plans. Over the past few months, while working on a novel set in my birthplace of Jamaica and weaving in some ancestry stories, I created a character out of my imagination. This character was a woman who loved birds and had a room full of birds… (Read more by clicking on title)
All month the painting speaks to me, teaches me what it is to surrender. Surrender to what the body wants, needs, craves, demands. You cannot rush the body. Surrender… (Read more by clicking on title)
Did you know that a tuning fork can calm your nervous system and promote whole-body healing by harmonizing your biofield (the energy field that surrounds and permeates your body)?
It began as a wish and a prayer: to do some healing around the relationships between mothers and daughters and women in general. I started the painting on the solar eclipse of July 2nd to add some astrological juice to the intention …
The email invitation to go to Egypt for the solar eclipse in August 1999 hit me in the belly like a lightning bolt. It was one of those rare times in my life when I just knew I had to drop everything and, come hell or high water, follow that thread that pulled me forward from the future. I had to trust that I would be supported to go there.
This essay explores pilgrimage, earth energies and the alchemy of sacred sites – the potential for spiritual transformation offered by embarking on pilgrimage to sites on the earth that have long been sanctified by wonder, ritual, prayer and the footsteps of seekers.
He is sitting with his arms crossed looking off into the distance. His cream colored long coat and shawl drawn up tight against his shoulders and neck. It must be cold. His gaze is soft yet strong. His brow furrowed with slight wrinkles. He is balding by then, his hair thinning yet still long in curls against his chest. I see him in profile only, the photograph of him taken outdoors in golden light, a clump of autumn foliage against him. Atop his mountain. Silent. Silent for decades. And yet, what he did with that silence is a masterclass in speaking volumes about creating peace in the world.
It was only an 18 hour plane ride where I sat sandwiched between two friends, watching 4 movies, awake the whole time, feeling the point we left the Atlantic and crossed into African airspace. It felt like a homecoming in the air. My TMJ that plagued me for a week before the trip, miraculously disappearing.