Breathing In Spirit

"The word inspire comes from two Latin words: in (in) and spirare (to breathe).  Spirare, in turn, is related to the Latin spirit.  Thus, the word inspire was used in older times to indicate that someone was "breathing in spirit," or drawing in divine energy."

~Stephen Co

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Inspired works of a blooming illustrator, painter, and (sometimes) writer.


Embracing my Darkest Shadows


"To Realize one's destiny
is a person's only obligation"

~Paulo Coelho
from The Alchemist

Hello, Beloved.

The sounds of the strings pull me once more to reach deep and connect with the ancient echoes of my heart and soul.
I listen to Natalie MacMaster’s live performance of David’s Jig as it plays for me now on Pandora. 
And I adore how my ancestors call my story back to me once more.

Some will know the family relation to that name.
Some may have no clue what that even means.
That’s okay, too.

This particular letter is for you.

Called to come before my own mirror, as I look outward and process all of the many mirrors reflected back to me with each new day, I knew I must also look inward to process all of the many triggers these reflections are directing me towards for healing. This has been my work, my process, my journey.

As I have done many, many times during this inner journey my entire life,
I stood before the mirror back in July.

This particular time, though I was deep into ceremonially working with metaphor and self-expression.
During this peeling away of false identity, there was little pain.
Only around my eyes did the mask stick and resist gentle release.
~Shifting the direction of my ability to see.
I came at the release from another angle, and found that able to go with less effort.
Until the moment it was finally peeled away, there was only determination remaining.
Then the rush of freedom was powerful, and truthfully,
using words to describe this ‘peeling away of words’ fails to fully convey.

I knew already the healed aspects of the many layers of my projected mask crafted with ink and glue.
Identified through and through, I touched each aspect of these words, danced with them in deep introspection. These are shadow dances, and are a necessary aspect of healing.

Time moves on, and months later, I can now brave face and make this part of my journey known.

How did I get here?

Through intention and persistence.
Graced by the blessing of forgiveness.

You see, like these words peeled away, no longer my anchor
~Doubt… Insecurities… Fear… Shame… Guilt… Anger…
Held fast in the glue that once bound them to my face,
I know that their power is nullified as I see only love reflected back to me in their place.

Gratitude follows. This allows more forgiveness to rise up within.

My love, in your woundedness, knowing not what you have done,
You have given all aspects of this reality to me to unravel and make peace with.
Such a noble offering wrapped up in an abusive and violating gift.
Shadows hiding the power of the love deeply hidden inside,
Your wounding, now mine.
I heal us both in one peeling away of my pride.

There will come a time that this healing is more deeply revealed and shared with those that have no clue what this all means.

For now, this revelation serves as one place to start.
This offering of gratitude to the demons once dancing in the dark within.
I release you from your service to the sacred in me.
And thereby from us all.

Dear Beloved,
May your suffering be eased as your last days remain to be fulfilled.
May you know that this forgiveness I offer has the ability to help you to also heal.
May you make your final journey home to your own sacred heart with grace and ease.
And may our ancestors in both directions of time feel the weight lift from our shoulders,
as our masks crumble in the power of our facing our inner darkness with the Divine light of love.



Dormancy and Aspirations

"The universal principle of etymology in all
languages: words are carried over from bodies
and from the properties of bodies
to express the things of the mind and spirit.
The order of ideas must follow
the order of things."

~Giambattista Vico

 In the time since we last shared a few words, creativity has me trying on a bunch of new hats.
Let me share with you now just one of the colorful examples with this evolution of a poem.

While in a bit of a stasis, I wanted to move forward with the creative flow. Finding myself with an opportunity to explore, the following began to happen: Pen in hand, I grab a post-it note and a few words in the style of haiku come up in response to my curiosity about the stillness I'm currently experiencing.

Cycles go dormant
Growth is imperceptible.
Hibernation mode.

The rain falls mid week, sandwiched between sweltering heat.

^^ That sentence alone, when examined etymologically, fascinates me.

I only search for the etymology of origins for some words, on some occasions.
This particular occasion,
I was searching for the roots of a feeling of slowed growth.

Which led me to abeyance:

abeyance (n.) Look up abeyance at Dictionary.com
    1520s, from Anglo-French abeiance "suspension," also "expectation (especially in a lawsuit)," from Old French abeance "aspiration, desire," noun of condition of abeer "aspire after, gape" from à "at" (see ad-) + ba(y)er "be open," from Latin *batare "to yawn, gape" (see abash).

and of course, of feeling dormant:

dormant (adj.) Look up dormant at Dictionary.com
    late 14c., "fixed in place," from Old French dormant (12c.), present participle of dormir "to sleep," from Latin dormire "to sleep," from PIE root *drem- "to sleep" (cognates: Old Church Slavonic dremati "to sleep, doze," Greek edrathon "I slept," Sanskrit drati "sleeps"). Meaning "in a resting situation" (in heraldry) is from c. 1500. Meaning "sleeping' is from 1620s.

The poem had already organically arrived, and I was looking to substitute the word stagnant that had first come in to be 'place filler' until I could search for the correct word.

Stagnant was not quite right. As that implied decay and inability to respond.
I am not in a place of stagnancy, more of a receptive and aware inaction.
So yes, the dormant cycle fits much more gracefully ~and bonus; it was also two syllables! =haiku

I had chosen the word that felt right,
updated the title of this particular post,
typed up the revised poem,
and proceeded to move on from there.

That is when the haiku-inspired tradition of recognizing the season (and elements -i.e., rain) around me followed.
Thus the weather update arrives.

I wonder to myself how the last few minutes of etymology synthesized to become that sentence.
~Because it wasn't actually sweltering last weekend,
and since next weekend has yet to arrive,
I truly can't predict beyond the weather forecasts just how sweltering it may or may not be.
It is predicted to be very hot this weekend anyway, and once the actual 'midweek' observation arrived,
book-ending the (actual) rain with the 'sandwiched between' metaphor felt 'cyclical', so I went with it.
~Cycles being a choice word to use for juxtaposition.
Looking to further describe the heat,
I think even I began to swelter.
In retrospection, that rising heat now appears to have emerged from that place of abeyance this entire post had originated from.

I began to notice how the words were arriving,
and I was then checking in on the motivation behind the words that appeared.
By searching for the word's origins.
Not only etymologically, but genuinely.
From within my frame of reference, and from my current energetic vibe, so to speak.

That is why the sentence became a bit of a fascination to me,
you see.
It clued me in to all of the keywords that the etymology brought
to the surface for me to examine.
In essence,
I was observing the fertilizing of a poem.

swelter (v.) Look up swelter at Dictionary.com
    c. 1400, "faint with heat," frequentative of swelten "be faint (especially with heat)," late 14c., from Old English sweltan "to die, perish," from Proto-Germanic *swiltan- (cognates: Old Saxon sweltan "to die," Old Norse svelta "to put to death, starve," Gothic sviltan "to die"), perhaps originally "to burn slowly," hence "to be overcome with heat or fever," from PIE root *swel- (2) "to shine, beam" (see Selene). From the same ancient root comes Old English swelan "to burn." For specialization of words meaning "to die," compare starve. Related: Sweltered; sweltering.

From there, I look back upon the sentence that prompted me into this extended illustration of a process:

The rain falls mid week, sandwiched between sweltering heat.

I would like to revise that to become a continuation of the opening haiku by altering the irrelevant word 'sandwiched' to fewer syllables,
and chose to go the easy route with the word 'in' as substitute..

And thus, I find myself no longer inactive, but smack dab in the middle of the poetic stream/cycle once more.
Etymology is now burning off the initial overall feeling of dormancy and inaction,
and the slow burn and appearance of death in the sweltering heat gives birth to a new page in a journal of a life.

The rain falls midweek,
in between sweltering heat.

The last five syllables will encompass the entirety of this process.
effectively completing the cycle.

And there we have it; a two verse poem in an abstract style of haiku is formed.

Cycles go dormant
Growth is imperceptible.
Hibernation mode.

The rain falls midweek,
in between sweltering heat.
Observing nature.



Giambattista Vico. (n.d.). BrainyQuote.com. Retrieved April 28, 2016, from BrainyQuote.com Web site: http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/g/giambattis185260.html


Moving in Stillness

"So the darkness shall be the light
and the stillness
the dancing"

~T.S. Elliot

Walk with me today, please.
A story is being born here.
Coming to life through the air that I breathe.

I ask for a little patience as you journey here alongside of me while we navigate the unfurling of a dream.

Many versions of this next chapter of a life in review have been written.
I have piles of handwritten words,
typed words filling multiple sources for recording purposes,
and images upon images worth even more words than I can count.
All capturing a moment, hoping to become a page,
even if only depicting a fleeting glimpse of a bigger story.
A story of Co-creation. 

This version, here in blog form, has come to mean more to me than I first envisioned.  I hope to express that concept more fully as the writing continues, but can give a glimpse into what I mean by that as I explain how today's blog came to be posted.

I have been nudged by Great Spirit for as long as I can remember.
I have tried to pay heed to the call of that force that is greater than my ability to conceive of its essence.
Trust is an interesting thing.

So is co-creation.

I journal quite extensively now, a practice I first took up as a very young girl.
In this journaling process, both in written and audio recorded files, I begin first with listening to that stillness inside to observe and receive the title and then will expand upon those words in freeform flow, allowing the current of mental murk swimming about me to shift into a slower, deeper and more still movement. Here is where the ability to receive allows for the words to coalesce into some cohesive form.

All of the sensory input I've stored through my experiences  -the sights, sounds, fragrances, textures, tastes, and energetic frequencies- are available and become nourishment for the growth of an idea.  I've come to learn along the path of this journaling process an inner language that is symbolic and elemental in nature and that is deeply connected to the rhythms of the Earth, Sun, Sky and Sea.

The excerpt posted below is a part of that journaling process as written.

It comes after I had watched the eagerly anticipated new song from a favorite inspirational source.

(You're now whole heartedly encouraged and welcome to further explore this beautiful inspiration along with me and the rapidly growing Medicine Tribe by visiting Nahko's website.)

And it came before I sat down at the computer in preparation for posting to the blog. It had been some time since I used the format where my blog is hosted, and some refreshing of what goes on behind the curtain was in order. Along the way to getting here, now, I re-read the last couple of blog entries that were birthed through this trusting of that Great essence.

Perhaps posting the excerpt now will help illustrate... 

Moving In Stillness

Interesting day, as it has so far presented.
Interest yields rewards, so they say.
Disinterest is seeded in the stillness,
and this is where I play today.

"Moving in stillness"
What does that title represent?

For me, it is symbolic of how I wake and seek the flow of the Sacred's voice within, 
and find my way of observing it.

Each day that I wake, I find that there are wisps of slumber-land's story blanketing my awareness.
Some days, the wisps are caresses of fresh air,
other times, the stagnant and bitter residue of unresolved nightmare-mists cast a shadow over me.

This morning, waking from last night's sweet dreams,
as I am parting from the lure of the deep slumber's grip
thoughts of being present and in graceful cognizance of the Beloved 
start to shimmer and dance within and all around me.
Another day begins.

Through the window, facing east, the hills across the river of motion are mist covered, and cloud laden.
Nourishing and much needed rain is on the way, though not yet reaching the ground.

Dressed now, and quickly prepared to begin a new day,
Resuming the pattern of routine and morning ritual 
allows for the call of Sacred Voices to wake along with me.
Some begin to sing, others retell stories from days of 'you're'.

Hah! like what I did there?
Switching up Yore with You're?
That's bound to cause quite the stir.

Listening to the call of these Sacred Voices within requires a quiet inner stillness.
And all the while the movement through daily experience and each unfolding moment 
spins around this tranquil eye of the storm.

Seedlings planted before the first breath I inhaled sprout only after a fire.
All successive breaths since that inception of this life have each also held viable seeds.
As this growth is organic and divinely structured beyond my will, 
all elements of alchemy are required for nature to take its course.

~Visions of forging forth come to me riding a warrior horse.
Singing a song of Prisons 
and offering keys of Forgiveness.

I purposefully till the soil of this garden where I play.
The air about me is the current upon which many mystical wonders ride.
It becomes redolent now with earth's essence via ancient oils;
Amber, frankincense and myrrh ~permeating sensory perception 
where symbols and reflective shining prisms reveal caverns in which I may, or may not hide.

Dressed, now anointed, and ready to begin another waking dreamdance,
The mind seeks to read the seasons, and to know which ground needs to be made clear.
So, here, I may prune a bit. 
May even add more nutrients to the soil.
Depending on the calendar and random happenstance.

It's the 8th of April. 
Lenny speaks today of coffin, and a key.

[get permission to insert video link to Nahko & M4tP -San Quentin]

Video images resurface in my mind's eye,
revealing symbolism in stark contrast.

Father. Son. Shackles. Table. Key.

Father; wonders if this child is His son
Son; His father's life taken by the man before him now.
Shackles; Binding the freedom of flight of both of these souls.
Table; Concepts/discussions ~eye for an eye. Laying it all here.
Key; Unlocks the power within.

Breaks the chain.

Expanding upon Coffin and Key;
Garden, Sun, and Coffin now appear before me.

I come to see how the sharing of the video and the images of life it profoundly contains
is radiant in this communal garden of blooms. Its liberation is uplifting, and so perfectly timed.
The end is the beginning, the key easily uncuffs the chains.

Sparking inspiration for me to break free.
More cards, first. 
Before I do.

Shaman wisdom: Goldenseal
keywords: Masculine/South/Sun/Fire
~getting to the root and lovingly communicating it heals.

A dose of Medicine from another Bear: Heron arrives
Symbolically, that's a great big Whoa!

[printed words from Avia Venefica, What's Your Sign?]

Also checked in with Bear Medicinewalker for her sage words to acompany her oracle card.
'Heron teaches us to find balance with our inner truths'
and speaks of patience, and of taking action at just the precise time.

Moving in stillness.
Like the long legged Heron does.
~Transgressing between multiple dimensions 
and the mystical elements of alchemy.


Sweetly, and divinely, Spirit sits me down at my computer, and I listen.

after the symbols have been activated and charged with my intention.
Before I travel back in my own time to recall the first Spirit nudges to dance between dimensions.

This is where I recognize that the nudges to update the blog I've been receiving over the past month will no longer be denied. Where I realise that the time to emerge from my caverns of self imposed imprisonment must come to an end.

Re-reading the last few blog posts at this point in the process becomes (for me) more of the internal and universe feedback loop that I have come to know and trust as divinity in action.

Reading once more about my beloved pet's passing, and all of the associations that come with the names, places, and things involved with those last few blog posts -spanning a number of years- acts as a Divine exclamation point for me, effectively being a 'brick over the head' if you will.

Movement from Stillness
Coffin is the Key.

At least it is today, for me.


P.S. I'm on facebook using that same dog's name as a virtual tattoo in his honor.
That's where I've been regularly posting many teeny bits of the inspiration that has been flowing full force since the blog hiatus.

Perhaps it's time for a breathinginspirit facebook page?

Baby steps, sweet child.  
Baby steps.



Guide Dance

This mystery of me has been calling.

Been doing my best to listen.

Finding much neglected (and almost forgotten) aspects of self that have been bringing great things to me, like; delight, wonder, curiosity, and deepening faith.

There is a deeper story about to be told.

New mythology, dreamed.    

Old wounds, healed.

Timeless growth about to unfold.

This is the time and place for renewal, regeneration, and reawakening. It may come about in a flurry, or at a snail's pace, but I can truthfully reveal that no matter the tempo, I am so ready for this. So very warrior ready.

Breathing in Spirit has been in hibernation mode.

Two years have passed since my last pondering. Well, the last post about having pondered, anyway. 

Much has been germinating and even I look forward to seeing the bloom being revealed.


Knocking on the Heart

As in the process of purgation that Dante described,
the rewards of a journey are sometimes
commensurate with its difficulty,
especially when the goal of the journey is
coming home to the heart.

~Robert Moss

Last month I came across that quote while I was reading “Dreamer’s Book of the Dead” by Robert Moss.  The quote had a gentle way of touching upon something that I had just experienced.

 The previous night, I was already running late to a local meetup that was in alignment with various subjects that I’ve been studying.  Not really knowing what to expect from ‘Kundalini Reiki with Ascended Master Kuthumi”, I was open to learn new and exciting things. With mapped address for the workshop in hand, and eagerness in my heart, I set out to explore.

 So, there I was, following the online map, directly to the wrong location. 
Well, the apartment complex was huge!  The map got me close, but the actual building was not in my sights.

 The meetup organizer did expect me to be about 15 minutes late, so at first I was not too worried with the slight delay.  No problem; I know someone on the inside!  I’ll send a quick text! 
I type “knock, knock”. 
Figuring if they haven’t already turned off the phones, I’ll be sitting in circle in no time.

 I’m standing in a light rain, peering at the complex directory map, looking for the building number, and think if I just look a little longer, it’ll show up! 

Next text; “I’m lost.  I don’t see 1010 on the map”.

 Okay, I’ll drive to another driveway and check another complex directory.  
I am just between that almost there, and that too late to turn back now place. 
I’m thinking, Okay, if I’m not meant to be at that workshop, that’s good too. 
And if I am, then I’ll find it and arrive in perfect time. 
Five minutes later, with no reply from my girl on the inside, I send one last text:  “Guess that’s a sign”.

 Shortly after trying two more driveways, and peering through the rain at more complex directories, I finally find the building. Woo-who!

I’m beyond late, and arrive with a mingled sense of accomplishment, and disconcertment, as I disrupt the circle to settle in alongside a few others that had also shared my difficulty with the map program misdirection.  The beauty of it all was the warm welcome I received, along with the graceful return to the unity and flow of the meeting, allowing a very rapid shedding of my remorse at being so late and opening me to the comfort and ease within the group instantly.

 The event was a delightful learning experience, and truly heart opening.  Filled with confirmation that “I am awake and getting the messages, and that I am on the right path” (even if a tad bit late).  I arrive at home with the energy still buzzing through me to find that I have received word that I am able to participate in an art project that I had been on standby for.  Oh my, hooray!!

 An opening has provided me with the opportunity to work on “Heaven Cent”, the piece that I was inspired to do as I was focused on working with “The Penny Experiment” project.

 I came across the Penny Experiment via that afore mentioned girl on the inside.  She’s quite the budding artist, and a dear friend and soul sister.  She’s a bit of a muse for me.  Inspiration in action, that woman.  It was a stumble upon from her blog that led me to The Penny Experiment.  But I found it almost two months too late!  (Gee, get the feeling I have a chronic tardy issue?)

 My timing may not have been right, ..Or was it? 

I was getting on standby to participate. This much I knew.  Even though a number would become available only if one of the already chosen one-hundred artists could not meet their agreement to contribute, I ignored the odds. 
I completely imagined myself getting number thirty-three.  Or forty-four.  Or seventy-seven. 
Or some cool master number like that..  My all time lifelong favorite number has always been number three. 
As I set the intention for the standby status to become active participation, I was holding the vibration of the perfect number and began to vision the piece I would contribute.  Angels were at work, and ideas like pennies from heaven came to mind (and heart).  I got art supplies, and found my penny..
Then I let go of the outcome. 
In fact, about a week had passed before I came home from that Kundalini Reiki with Ascended Master Kuthumi workshop.

 Oh my, Hip, Hip, Hooray!  I was simply astounded when I received word that the number that had in fact become available for my entry turned out to be number thirty-three!  How Divine!

 From Doreen Virtue’s Angel Numbers book:  #33  Many ascended masters surround you and assist you in all ways.  They’ve come to help you with your mission, and to answer your prayers.

 Well, no kidding!  And talk about Perfect timing and coming home to the heart!  And truthfully, I couldn’t think of a more deserving mission than “The Penny Experiment”  Please go check it out, and see just how many lives can be touched by a single penny.  "Heaven Cent", or otherwise.