‘things’ begin to untangle…

marilyn at the San


Sitting outside in the early morning… light approaching dark… all still, but for the sounds of silence.  Soft dripping drops of rain cease for a moment or two;   silhouettes of black and white… emerging light, loosens night’s hold.  I sit and take in all around me.

It’s almost three years since I came through the front gates… Mahalia, I’d already given her, her name.  I had my plans, my focus and determination.  I had a vision, I thought it was important… it was October 2010.

My ability to sense the ‘currents’ around me has always been present, thanks to my Ancestors.  But it’s taken a lengthy amount of time to trust it.  The granddaughter of a Gypsy, I carry the memories, the gifts and abilities… I was never destined to be ‘normal’.  But oh how I tried, it became an obsession… having Polio as a child compacted the issue.  It had become my mission…  ‘normality’ the goal post.  All thoughts of ‘difference’ deeply buried.  They’ve taken a long time to re-surface.

We all come with gifts, we all come with genius… we all have a purpose, beyond the original… the same for each one of us.  Early years in the 1950’s was a solid education, fantasized images of what it was to be a good citizen, to be a real person… especially for Woman.  Yes they let go of the corsets, binding bones with bones, crushing the rib-cage… breathing difficult.  A psychological message… ‘you have no right to be here,  only by our graceful bounty… are you permitted to exist.’   The Solar Plexus, our centre of power, tightly controlled… the power of Woman has been feared for centuries.  Control came in many different ways.  The Kookas are now chuckling around the valley… welcoming the dawn.

So we escaped the corset… the long clothing, tangling our legs… reducing our freedom to run with haste.  The word ‘Matriarchal’ wiped from our language.  As in years passed when Woman was burnt… for following the ways of  Goddess Wisdom.   Various ways of capture and annihilation were conjured… and enacted.  They never understood by imprisoning the Feminine… they were imprisoning themselves.  Yin and Yang, only together do they exist… the circle of Life.

Woman brings Birth… she is the Goddess Creator… she carries the Sacred Womb… she nurtures and feeds.  She fosters Life… as does Mother Earth.




So they went about building their structures of steel… creating machines for all our needs… a mechanical world.  Machines need a source of energy to live… they don’t have the gift of Breath, the organic source of Life… as we do.  They need an external source to create any movement.  So the search continues.

These ‘clever’ ones then began their exploration, using the cerebral matter contained in their skull.   Exploring ways to create ‘new worlds’… the ‘old’ no longer loved and cherished… now the Feminine was gone.  How lost we can become….  forgetting our roots, from where we’ve come.   From Mother Earth and Father Sky… with a link to the Divine… to guide us home.

Like immature boys wanting to prove their strength, show their emerging muscles to their friends… their toughness, their manhood.  The Age of Machines continued to grow, larger and larger, like a monster with an insatiable appetite.  Machines then take on a life of their own… but not guided by Life Force, Wisdom and Love.  Controlled by a central mechanical source… more and more machines… and  humans with sickness at their core.

A lot has occurred in these 65 years.  From the post war years, through the control of the 1950’s… the rebellion of the 60’s, the movements of the 70’s,  the wealth obsession of the 80’s, the collapse in the 90’s.  Then a new century… the 21st century.  We have come of Age… how will we use our new-found ‘freedom’… we’re now adults… or are we.   A new Age beckons…. the Woman is awakening from her induced coma.



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I love to write . . . I love to appreciate all the beauty in life. I find comfort and healing in dear Mother Nature's bounty, creative projects fill my home ~ everywhere. I've done many things and more await me ~ life is a journey, a creative adventure. I often say thank you for all that's been given.

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