Posted in Abundance and lack, Inspiration, love, Storytelling

Stories of the Heart

Two stories have come up on my radar, both BBC i-player Storyville documentaries.  The first is about a sweet elderly gentleman, as he is dubbed by the elderly women in the film, several of whom fall in love with him.  He’s somewhere between 80 and 90 years old, this is the age requested in the newspaper advert of the detective agency looking for a mole to live in a nursing home for three months.  The agency has been engaged by a woman whose mother is in the home and she believes the staff are mistreating her mother and stealing from her.

Equipped with appropriate spy cameras in his spectacles and pen, our man is on the case.  Truly, he’s such a sweetheart, he makes friends with so many of the residents in his attempt to uncover what’s going on.  The outcome is not as expected.

Nobody has a bad word to say about the staff but our mole uncovers something else entirely.  Firstly, he discovers that an elderly woman with dementia is going around and taking things, so that’s why things were going missing.  The real crime is how many residents are sad and lonely because they’re getting little or no visits from family.  In the case of one woman who thinks her mother is still alive, the staff frequently arrange phone calls to her from themselves, they pretend to be her mother just to comfort her.  She pleads with her ‘mother’ to come and take her home.  It can’t be easy for the staff to hear her heartfelt pleas but they keep ringing, just the same.

The emotional pressure begins to take its toll on our elderly gentleman-spy who is struggling with the sadness and hurt he sees as his newfound friends talk about being abandoned by their so-called loved ones.  Even the lady whose daughter complained doesn’t seem to visit her mother.  As our intrepid gent reflects, perhaps her attitude towards the staff is a deflection of her own feelings of guilt concerning her mother’s situation.

The second story is that of the corruption in Romanian hospitals that was uncovered following a fire in a nightclub where 12 people died and then another 37 people who went to hospital later died.  Not from burns but because the conditions were so terrible that they became infected in their wounds and died.  The level of scandal and corruption that’s revealed is mind-boggling and horrific to imagine because it goes hand in hand with personal stories of people suffering or dying as a consequence.  One character is a newly appointed Minister of Health who is really trying to sort out the mess and fix the problem, but the level of corruption is so deep that it’s soon clear he has no chance, and then there’s an election and he’s out of the job as all his efforts are wiped away.

The reason I’m telling you about these stories, and sorry for the spoilers, is because they touched my heart so much I was, once again, reminded that my life is a million miles away from that kind of hurt and it does me good to remember it. There are many, many people in the world who live every day with such conditions that I cannot even imagine.

All I put out about spiritual growth and love and peace and such, it just paled into insignificance for a moment there, in the sight of the everyday difficulties these people endure.  I’m glad these stories came up on my radar to help remind me of who I am, how lucky I am and to be humble and remember that some people are just trying to find a way to get out of bed, put one foot in front of the other and survive. 

I know that those sweet, elderly people who are in their final years are feeling lonely and abandoned because of what’s going on inside their heads and how that makes them feel and they’re doing the best they can with what they’re given.  I know that those people whose bodies are disfigured and whose limbs are missing due to the fire and those that lost their children, they are also choosing whether to let that define them or not, and that’s their soul’s journey.  They all have my sincere blessings and so many others whose stories I don’t know.  During this life, some are dealing with the toughest conditions for what their soul needs, some are taking on massive challenges that have the potential to transform many, maybe even a nation, maybe even the world.  Love and blessings to you all, whoever you are, whatever your life brings.         

Posted in artistic, divine magic, Granma Wisdom, Personal Story, spiritual skills and techniques, Storytelling

Meet Granma Wisdom

Have you noticed a few recent posts about a character called Granma Wisdom yet?  That’s becoming something of a theme, and it happened like this.

I was making my bed when I noticed a dialogue going through my head, it was the first Granma Wisdom post, which you will find here.  And as I started to pay attention, I thought; “Hey, this is gold!  I need to be writing this down.”  So, I dropped what I was doing, grabbed my laptop and captured it.  The next day, another one popped out.  I realised something was happening.  I wondered if I would get one a day?

Thing is, I used to be a schoolteacher and I guess I’ve always had thoughts and ideas about the kind of things children need and don’t usually find in a society and culture like ours.  I mean learning skills like breathing techniques, visualisation and meditation from an early age.  Hearing about the alternative explanation for life and death that we get from a spiritual perspective.   

And there it was, not for the first time, the idea to write a book for parents and children that introduce a new, more spiritual way to understand things.  And that’s who Granma Wisdom is.  She’s a wise seer who is teaching her grandchild all she knows, because her grandchild is holding the gift of the seer too.  And through her words, maybe parents will know how to explain some of these ideas to their children, and maybe children will understand because Granma Wisdom’s words are close to the world of divine magic that children already hold in their hearts. 

I don’t know if it’s going to be a real book yet, too soon to say, but the door is open, the magic is welcome and I am present to receive and follow whatever path is chosen for me.       

Posted in crystalline kingdom, dragons, elemental kingdom, Goddess, Inspiration, Mother Earth, Storytelling

Of The Animals And More…

My story is of the hawk, of the black-winged gull, of the bite in the air. My story is accompanied with the melody of hedgerow birds, especially blackbird and robin. And the magpie defines the interplay of this story’s words in her flight.

Voices ring out across the lane. The earl grey, purple-grey misty mizzle rolls over the distant hill. The stillness is not silent because silence isn’t silent. Silence is noisier than noise sometimes, and in this moment as innocent insects glide by, there is both silence and the constant harmony of universal song.

It is winter. It is two weeks on from the shortest day of the year. I like to think it’s the beginning of summer in my optimism, for the sun is now making first steps on the long journey of return that concludes on June 21st 2021. Today is like any other winter’s day, warmer than most, drier than many, here in the land of the Cymru.

It is a still day, in a new way. It is silent, in a new way. It is alive in a new way. And when I feel deep into that energy, my skin creeps as though there is some invisible presence that only my body can perceive.

Above the hedgerow, the majestic form of the red kite is gliding over the tops of purple trees, soaring into the misty distance and I wonder, what is the story that the land is telling me today?

As the light fades, the grass in the field looks greener, a bright emerald green. There are many lives living invisibly in this landscape; hare, mice, rat, stoat, otter, hedgehog, badger, fox, deer, to name a few. They are all here in this landscape within which I sit and yet, I see them not. How many of them see me, I do not know. But they are a part of this story, for this is a story about the animals.

Did you know the animals can talk? They talk to each other and they talk to humans, the ones that are open to hear. We are, for some strange reason, worthy of their interest, despite everything we do to persecute them, dishonour them, disrespect them.

How much has humanity harmed the animals, just to think of it brings my eyes to flooding. And yet, they continue to fulfil a role of companionship, support, service, love and care towards us in so many ways, seen and unseen. Some of us are now stepping forward to connect with the animals and create a bridge of hope and healing. Some of us are bringing forth the humility of humanity to the animals, bringing them humble apologies, even though none can ever serve for what has been done, still, it must be said. And we are holding out a hand of hope and faith for a truer connection.

Some of us are doing the same for the nature beings, the tree spirits and plant energies. Some of us are working with inner planes beings that support us from other realms. All these energies are coming forward now and selectively making themselves known. Some of us decided to be of service and connect with their energies and now is the dawning of our contracts of service that were made before we were conceived in our current personalities.

These contracts are activating, they carry a contract of service for humanity and the universe, for Mother Earth and all that is. Perhaps you will be approached by the collective consciousness of animals or the collective consciousness of crystals, the collective consciousness of bees, the collective consciousness of nature beings and elemental beings, the collective consciousness of tree spirits, the collective consciousness of the angelic realm or the star beings or the Goddess consciousness.

It all comes down to one thing. We are being asked at this time to choose. To choose what we wish to awaken within our being. To choose what we wish to awaken within our reality. And to choose what we wish to awaken within the world. We are really being asked to remember what we have already chosen. We are asked now to wake up and connect to our purpose and as we do, we are coming together as one. This is unity consciousness, we are involved in nothing more than coming together in unity as one with all, recognising the unity in ourselves and everything else.

Unity is expressed through reconnecting with all the energies that exist, many of which we have denied the existence of for thousands of years, even though our ancestors had a direct communication with these energies and beings. It is time for us to rekindle those connections and bring them into the forefront of the consciousness of humanity again. To trust that we have grown up enough, as a collective here on Earth, to be responsible and humble, with enough integrity, to move through our relationships with these beings towards unity with all.

This painting depicts my dear friend, Ian Firth, who transited into the spirit realm in 2009. Generally known as The Green Man, here, he is the Rainbow Wizard at Pentre Ifan, Pembrokeshire. Find it with some of my other paintings in my sidebar gallery.

Posted in crystalline kingdom, dragons, elemental kingdom, Goddess, Mother Earth, mythology, Personal Story, Storytelling

My First Story

I am one who sees, hears and feels the magic of the land.  I grew up in the bosom of the land and heard the stories that the land spoke, that the land speaks to this day.  I know that when the mist descends and the hills disappear, they have gone beyond the veil, they have shifted into another realm, a magical realm, an earthy, dark realm where I belong, for my ancestors dwell there.

The land is my mother.  She was my loving mother in childhood, even when the love of a human mother seemed to elude me, so it was that the nurture I suckled as a child came from the earth, from stone and gorse and bracken and tall grasses, from the hedgerows and the woods, the beaches, the valleys, the streams. In short, my succour came from the land.

And now I find that the land is telling me of other lives I lived, in which I heard its stories.  It has awoken me to the truth that I am a storyteller, one who holds the stories for many, a carrier of the lore.

These stories belong to the land and they belong to me, a child of the land.  They belong to all of us, they always have and always will, they are the stories of us all, for us all.  For we have lived before and known each other in many ways, we are our ancestors and descendants and we all carry within us the jewels of wisdom and kernels of truth that are hidden in the stories of the land. 

I know that the stories I carry are waking up. They have a life of their own, it is as though they are living beings. They contain their own conscious awareness, they know when it is time to wake up and they know when it is time to speak. They have been sleeping, just as the maiden in the fairy tales sleeps, as though she will never wake up, but she is waking up. This is the time when all the heroes and heroines who sleep in the stories are waking up; Merlin, King Arthur, Sleeping Beauty, Snow White, all waking up. The dragons are waking up and all of the magical beauty and truth that the land holds for us all is waking up. For they have only been asleep from our perspective, only been out of reach to those who cannot sense them. For some, they have remained awake and accessible. In truth, it’s not they who have been sleeping at all, it is us.

Whether you believe in magic now, you are going to believe in magic soon, when magic walks amongst us all in broad daylight, when all those myths and characters that we thought were only children’s stories turn out to be true, to be within our realm of experience, undeniable. Dwarves, goblins, trolls, faeries, giants, dragons. Like those people who refused to believe in ghosts until they had a particular experience, after which they could no longer say that they absolutely denied the existence of ghosts.

We are all magical but if we only see the reality of the physical world that is before our eyes, the world that the scientists tell us about, then, we are only scratching the surface of our own selves. We have not realised who we are, we have not looked in the mirror of truth and recognised ourselves yet.

There are those of us whose understanding of reality extends beyond the obvious, beyond the realm of the physical, extends into the dusty corners of our imaginations and to the heart of our intuition. We who have always believed in magic, even in the face of apparent evidence against. You will find that our innate inner sense of belief in the existence of this incredible realm of possibility is no longer possibility, but probability. And once it becomes a probability and we begin to have a relationship with it, then we bring it into ourselves, into our expressions of truth, into our core of being. And as we do that, what we meet there is us. Divine magic is within us, it is who we are, we are divine magic. What is outside of us is within us, what is within us is outside of us. And what we choose, becomes. And this, my friends, is my first story.

This story is accompanied with a painting I made as a commission for a poem. It’s called ‘Ancestral Blueprint’. Check out my gallery of paintings in the sidebar.