Grace

Grace is the presence of God. Anyone experiencing this amazing state knows beyond all doubt that this is so. They may not see it necessarily as an overtly spiritual experience, but will know that something profound has touched their lives. Grace is neither love nor truth but the simultaneous expression of both aspects of Divine Being. The impact of this immaculate presence neutralises any movement of the mind; what remains is stillness and the immediacy of the moment. The effect heightens the perception, which can invoke a depth of compassion beyond anything in particular except for the virtue of life in all its manifold expressions on earth.

In a worldly sense grace is universally admired as an expression of beauty such as the flow of the body in the movements of a dance, the athlete’s finesse or simply an action where the unmistakable character of the being shines through. Grace represents the excellence of what it means to be a human being in the absence of force as any projection of self. Nature is in a perpetual state of grace, as is the cosmos and constellation of stars. Whatever Grace touches takes on the qualities of the Divine and retains the timeless purity of its original essence.

The principles of man and woman embody Grace in its pristine state of purity. But against the coarse vibration of outer forces, this shining exemplar of the original godhead is mostly unconscious. And yet, the overriding presence of Grace is often intuited as the one good that has no opposite. Grace encompasses the totality of life and serves that eternal goodness in whatever way that unfolds in existence. Everyone’s destiny is to reunite with this point of individual consciousness that directs the life from within. In those moments when the presence of Grace shines through, there is no mistaking the living presence of the Lord of Existence – the light of reality within all things.

The reality within the body is a spiritual light of evolving consciousness, not unlike a lighthouse that emits a signal or beam into the blackness of the void. What normally happens is that by focusing on the not-so-good, the pain and hurts of the past are kept alive by resurrecting them in the memory. Grace is then kept at a distance. The idea is to break through the negative screen of self and acknowledge something of true value – such as simply being alive with whatever has been provided for now. The power is then invoked and life can then be lived more consciously in the amazing state of Grace.

Lance Kelly

Fairy Frolic

By a silver fountain,
In a magic hour,
Once I saw a Fairy,
Lovely as a flower;
Rainbow morning-glories
Watched her from above;
Waterlilies peeped beneath,
Just to show their love.

Fast as almond petals
On a windy day,
Little white feet twinkled
In her fairy play;
Little starry white hands,
Frail as snowdrops small,
Tossed a coloured bubble up
For a fairy ball.

Image: "Fairy" (1926), Illustration by Ida Rentoul Outhwaite

Today is 'International Women's Day'

Keep 'Holding Steady' and focussed on what you believe in, whatever the weather and however much the boat rocks. The flowers will grow and they have never let us down.

~ Nicola Slatery

More of my work at: www.nicolaslattery.com

From the moment you were born,
your death has walked beside you.
Though it seldom shows its face,
you still feel its empty touch
when fear invades your life,
or what your love is lost
or inner damage is incurred...

Yet when destiny draws you
into these spaces of poverty,
and your heart stays generous
until some door opens into the light,
you are quietly befriending your death ;
so that you will have no need to fear
when your time comes to turn and leave,

That the silent presence of your death
would call your life to attention,
wake you up to how scarce your time is
and to the urgency to become free
and equal to the call of your destiny.

That you would gather yourself
and decide carefully
how you now can live
the life you would love
to look back on
from your deathbed.

~ John O'Donohue
Art : Pierre Schmidt

Women are the heart and spine of a pulsating earth at the center of the universe.

We are the mothers, the grandmothers, the great-grandmothers, the creative minds in a universe which often fails to see the contributions we make.
We are the homemakers, the nurturers, the artisans of the magical weave which blankets all of life.
We are the cooks, the maids, the CEO's the entrepreneurs, the poets, the dancers, the singers, the song.

We nurse the babies and teach them to stand, to walk and to flourish.
We are the listening ear, the wisdom bearers, the backbone to the family.

We are the shoulders of countless men who long for comfort, support or just a dose of tenderness.
We are the goddesses who in the blink of an eye can captivate with a smile or a touch.
We are the warriors who attempt to bring reason in a society often run by angry men.
We are the inspiration, the strength, the fortitude when others are waning.
We are the whispers in the wind who pray for those we love and many we don't.
We are nurses and caretakers who kiss the wounds and heal the hurts, who parent the parents when their time in the sun is setting.
We are the inventors, the bridge to what is yet to come.
We are the roots which flourish even in a drought.
We light the world with love and feed those who hunger and thirst for nourishment.
Women are spinners and weavers; we are the ones who spin the threads and weave them into meaning and pattern.
We create those threads out of our own substance, pulling the strong, fine fibers out of our own hearts and wombs.

It’s time to make some new threads... time to strengthen the frayed wild edges of our own being and then weave ourselves back into the fabric of our culture.
Once we know the patterns for weaving the world; we can piece them together again.
Women can heal and remake the world.

This is what women do.

We are women, beautiful, bold, bodacious, bombastic, bawdy, brilliant and bountiful in our resilience.
We are the vine which bears the fruit and seeds all of earth, the light which ignites the universe.

Happy International Women's Day, to all of you wondrous women !

Much love and respect for you all.... on this day and every day.

Art : Mundo de Arin

The sun is still rising,
the wind is still blowing,
and out here in the wild,
you are growing.

And there might be days
where you might struggle to feel it’s true,
and you might struggle to trust
that here in the wilderness,
there is more ahead of you,

But I promise you:
as sure as the ground
is beneath your feet
and as sure as the morning air
holds space for you to breathe:
you are still becoming
who you were meant to be.

And remember that “becoming”
will feel like a process—
a process taking place in new territory
that will feel unknown to you.
But at the same time, this is true:
you have known unknowns before.
You have known what it means
to not know what next
and yet still, here you are:

slowly waking up
and returning to what you know:

the sun is still rising,
the wind is still blowing,
and out here, in the wild,
you are growing.

* * *

~ Morgan Harper Nichols

~ Art by Kristin Vestgård

Not every perceived challenge we meet in life
is an obstacle we must overcome.

You see, when we hit a stumbling block
or a bump in the road or a brick wall,
we are usually already
tired, exhausted and overwhelmed.

So maybe the stumbling block is not actually there to trip us up. Maybe it’s there to cushion our fall. To give us somewhere to sit when we need to catch our breath for a while.

And perhaps the bumps in the road are there to remind us to slow down. When we have been charging ahead too quickly and driving ourselves into the ground.

And maybe that brick wall isn’t meant to be scaled.
Maybe it’s simply there for us to lean against. To help us rest and regain our strength. And maybe when we’re rested, we’ll realise we can go round the wall or take it apart brick by brick.

Yes, not every obstacle we meet in life is there to test us and teach us a lesson.

Sometimes,
even when it doesn’t feel like it,
some things in life
are simply there to help.

******

Becky Hemsley 2023
Artwork by Darya Gerasomova

From my fourth book 'Letters from Life' https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CHL9MZC1... See less

Vortex, 2024

Created at Little Milford woods

Definitely had some collapses with this one. Previous to this work I've made pieces to test the strength of the mud/clay that I gather from the river nearby. This shows it well, I used it to stick the sticks to the tree and the leaves to to sticks. Definitely enjoying the mushroom quality and the ability to work much more three dimensionally.

~ Jon Foreman: Sculpt The World

New Year’s Tradition of Smashing Pomegranates

In Greek culture, the pomegranate fruit has symbolized fertility, luck, prosperity, renewal, and regeneration since ancient times. It has been the symbol of many goddesses, including Hera, Aphrodite and Persephone.Ancient Greeks believed that the pomegranate’s ruby-like arils, or seeds, symbolized abundance, perhaps because of their quantity.Pomegranate trees were mentioned in Homer’s Odyssey, where they grew on the island of Corfu. The pomegranate was also closely associated with the Eleusinian Mysteries .Since most New Year's day, rituals involve ways to bring luck to a household, it makes perfect sense that the pomegranates are part of these deep-rooted traditions.

The tradition of smashing a pomegranate on New Year's Day dates back to ancient times and originates in the Peloponnese.In modern times, when the family returns home from church on New Year's Day, the man of the house smashes the pomegranate on the front door. He wishes that the juicy, bounteous ruby-like segments of the fruit fill the home with health and happiness — and joys as many as the pomegranate's arils. According to Greek tradition, the more seeds that spread all over the floor, the more good fortune will be brought to the house!

According to an old Native American legend, one day there was a big fire in the forest. All the animals fled in terror in all directions, because it was a very violent fire. Suddenly, the jaguar saw a hummingbird pass over his head, but in the opposite direction. The hummingbird flew towards the fire!

Whatever happened, he wouldn't stop. Moments later, the jaguar saw him pass again, this time in the same direction as the jaguar was walking. He could observe this coming and going, until he decided to ask the bird about it, because it seemed very bizarre behavior.

"What are you doing, hummingbird?" he asked.

"I am going to the lake," he answered, "I drink water with my beak and throw it on the fire to extinguish it." The jaguar laughed. 'Are you crazy? Do you really think that you can put out that big fire on your own with your very small beak?'

'No,' said the hummingbird, 'I know I can't. But the forest is my home. It feeds me, it shelters me and my family. I am very grateful for that. And I help the forest grow by pollinating its flowers. I am part of her and the forest is part of me. I know I can't put out the fire, but I must do my part.'

At that moment, the forest spirits, who listened to the hummingbird, were moved by the bird and its devotion to the forest, miraculously they sent a torrential downpour, which put an end to the great fire.

The Native American grandmothers would occasionally tell this story to their grandchildren, then conclude with, "Do you want to attract miracles into your life? Do your part."

“You have no responsibility to save the world or find the solutions to all problems—but to attend to your particular personal corner of the universe. As each person does that, the world saves itself.’"

Author unknown
Art by Laron

Misty days are their own kind of beauty.

After over a month of complete closures in all of NC, a few sections of the Blue Ridge Parkway opened this week. Yesterday, I've heard, it was absolutely packed with folks turning out in force to see the colors. I hope everyone got what they were looking for. We all deserve it, after the month we've had.

I wasn't able to get up there till today, and it was quite an adventure getting there. It was rainy from the moment we set out, but I don't mind.

At 5500 feet of elevation on a day like this, you're not gonna see much beyond the edge of trees. It's not just foggy: You're literally in the clouds.

This kept most people away. We saw ONE other car during the hour or so we were on the parkway (it took 1.5 hours to get to the section we wanted to see, due to closures and detours, and 1.5 hours to get back... worth it).

What they missed, though!

It always feels to me like I'm in a 3D rendered environment where they haven't bothered to render beyond the forest I'm immediately occupying. It feels magical and otherworldly. Like everything has faded away, and it's just you, and these trees.

I especially love these mountains above about 5000 feet of elevation (Asheville, for comparison, is at 2100-ish; the highest point east of the Mississippi, which is Mt. Mitchell, is at 6400-ish), where the landscape turns to spruce forest, and you start to see species of plants and animals that are typically only found in Canada, or nowhere else at all, and you feel like you've entered a whole other country.

It's this way because the glaciers pushed Canadian species and ecosystems down this way in the last ice age, and then those at high enough elevations stayed behind, creating ecological islands that are unique in all the world. Some species have evolved in these "islands" into varieties that can be found nowhere else.

(All of this is at risk from climate change, btw, the sad counterpoint to all nature love stories these days, the grief weighed in the other hand.)

I'm so grateful to live in a time when these magical landscapes still live, still thrive. A place where I can drive an hour, or an hour and a half, and find myself in a place out of time and memory, a mystical, misty-cal world apart.

It is my fondest hope that we will find a way to reclaim our relationship with these special places through our care for all our relations. Maybe, if we love them hard enough, we can save them, and ourselves in the process.

~ Fen Druadìn

"You're never far from a bright, shining star
when Elfin glows in your heart."

— quote by The Silver Elves
Art by illustrator Rhaevyn Hart

Breakage
by Mary Oliver

I go down to the edge of the sea.
How everything shines in the morning light!
The cusp of the whelk,
the broken cupboard of the clam,
the opened, blue mussels,
moon snails, pale pink and barnacle scarred—
and nothing at all whole or shut, but tattered, split,
dropped by the gulls onto the gray rocks and all the moisture gone.
It's like a schoolhouse
of little words,
thousands of words.
First you figure out what each one means by itself,
the jingle, the periwinkle, the scallop
full of moonlight.

Then you begin, slowly, to read the whole story.

* * *

Image: "What form she pleased each thing would take that e’er she did behold" (1920), from "The Book of Fairy Poetry", illustrated by Warwick Goble (1862-1943)

Sorrow prepares you for joy.
It violently sweeps everything out of your house,
so that new joy can find space to enter.
It shakes the yellow leaves from the bough of your heart,
so that fresh, green leaves can grow in their place.
It pulls up the rotten roots,
so that new roots hidden beneath have room to grow.
Whatever sorrow shakes from your heart,
far better things will take their place.

~ Rumi

Art by Odilon Redon, (1896)

Solitude is a reminder that sometimes, stepping away from the buzz, the constant connections, the stimulation overload is not just a luxury, but a necessity to be brighter and stronger than before.

Solitude isn’t about isolation or loneliness.
It’s a sacred space,
It’s a place where you can shed the layers you wear for the world, be completely yourself, and reconnect with your deepest needs and desires. It’s like taking off a mask and letting your true face breathe.

And remember, coming back from solitude isn’t about retreating from the world forever. It’s about returning with renewed energy, a clearer perspective, and a deeper understanding of yourself.

Lalah Delia
Art : Corine Ko

We all start out knowing magic. We are born with whirlwinds, forest fires, and comets inside us. We are born able to sing to birds and read the clouds and see our destiny in grains of sand.

But then we get the magic educated right out of our souls. We get it churched out, spanked out, washed out, and combed out. We get put on the straight and narrow and told to be responsible. Told to act our age. Told to grow up, for God’s sake. And you know why we were told that? Because the people doing the telling were afraid of our wildness and youth, and because the magic we knew made them ashamed and sad of what they’d allowed to wither in themselves.

~ Robert R. McCammon

She didn’t dream of a huge mansion; she longed for a cozy log cabin tucked away in the quiet, where they could grow old together. A place where their only neighbors were the trees, the birds would serenade them awake, and the stars would watch over them each night as they slept.

She didn’t need a perfectly manicured garden; she craved a space where wildflowers grew freely, reflecting her untamed spirit. A place where she could feel the earth beneath her bare feet, bond with the animals, and gather around a fire to share stories.

She didn’t desire a life of constant hustle and pressure; she yearned for a life of peaceful contentment. A life where she had time to savor the scent of flowers, admire the beauty of the setting sun, and hear the whispers of her heart.

She wasn’t chasing grand things; she wanted small, meaningful moments. Moments that stirred her soul, filled her heart with joy, and reminded her that love was all she needed.

" I am no one special. Just a common man with common thoughts.
I've led a common life.
There are no monuments dedicated to me,
and my name will soon be forgotten.
But in one respect, I have succeeded as gloriously as anyone who's ever lived :
I've loved another with all my heart and soul;
and to me, this has always been enough."

From the " City of Angels" ...Film (1998)

To the Woman Questioning Her Own Strength

To the woman who gazes around and wonders why others seem so much more capable, so much stronger, so much more ambitious than she feels. To the woman who sees everyone blazing a fiery trail through life while she feels as though she’s limping along, barely making it through each day.

Know this: somewhere, another woman is looking at you and thinking the very same thing.

We all appear to have it together from the outside. On the right day, we seem like we have it all under control. But truthfully, we’ve perfected the art of masking our struggles behind a smile. We’ve learned to don a brave face and push through, even when the weight of it all feels overwhelming.

When we show up, just as we are—warts and all, late, flustered, and beautifully human—we’re doing each other a favor. We need to see that beneath the polished exterior, we are all the same. We all face struggles, we all have moments where we fall apart. Some days we thrive, and other days we stumble.

Hiding our fears and weaknesses only gives them more power. When we allow ourselves to be vulnerable and shine a light on our insecurities, they become less daunting, even laughable. And oh, how we need to find reasons to laugh.

So, to the woman who wonders if she’s enough—let me assure you: Yes, you are. You always have been. You don’t have to live up to anyone’s expectations of how you should be coping. You are human, flawed, wonderful, miraculous, and deeply loved.

I see you, and now I hope you’ll see others in the same light. Let’s spread the word: We are enough, just as we are.

Emerging from the shadows of survival, a soul awakens to a profound yearning for truth and genuine connection. The journey from mere existence to truly living ignites an insatiable hunger for honesty and the raw beauty of authenticity.

Each step towards clarity of mind and self-discovery has been a battle hard-fought, leaving scars both visible and hidden. The price paid in tears, sweat, and countless sleepless nights has been steep, yet the reward - a glimpse of one's true essence - is priceless.

Now, standing on the precipice of healing, this reborn spirit guards its newfound clarity fiercely. Like a delicate flame sheltered from harsh winds, it cannot risk exposure to those who would carelessly extinguish its light.

The heart, once battered but now slowly mending, beats with a rhythm that demands respect for its journey. It whispers a solemn vow: to engage only with those who honor the sacred path of healing, who recognize the courage it takes to shed survival's armor and stand vulnerably in one's truth.

For in this vulnerability lies strength, in this authenticity lies freedom, and in this honesty lies the key to a life fully lived, no longer merely survived.

"A Soul's Awakening" by Etheric Echoes
Painting: "Healing the Brokenhearted" by Janice VanCronkhite