passing time

I didn’t realize it was today

until I did

and then I cried for an hour


until my heart ached a little less

and my eyes had no more tears to shed

and my mind whispered softly to me

“that’s enough now”

I think about you every day

I wonder if you know

If I had to guess

I would imagine that you don’t

that you try not to think about me at all

it’s been 365 days

longer, really

but today was “the day”

and still I find you in my thoughts

when something exciting happens that I want to share

or when I discover something new

or when I want help to understand an idea

it’s still you that I see in my mind

you who I want to tell first

I thought that this would have long since changed

that the passing of time would have meant

a shifting in these patterns

like sand being blown in the breeze

forming new shapes as the prevailing wind changed

and yet, there you are

some days less obvious that others

but still, present

and while I know you’ll never see this

I want you to know

that I will hold you in my heart

no matter how much time passes

or how the wind blows

With Love



needle and thread

“it’s ok to feel vulnerable” she whispers to me

“it is completely alright for you to feel this way,

about sharing your experiences of pain”

I nod yes, to show that I know,

shaking tears from my eyes with the motion

I know that this feeling of being exposed,

this raw, open-wound feeling,

will eventually pass

it’s not going to last forever,

but that knowledge somehow doesn’t make it

any less formidable now

“The point of sharing our pain,”

she tells me,

“is that it will allow us to heal

through sharing the dark we’ve been living in

our head and our hearts can begin to see clearly

can come back to centre

we can find that human connection that makes us glow brighter

and remember that we come from something more

something greater

and that we were not put here to hide away

but to laugh and sing and grow and learn and discover

sharing our pain helps us all to remember that

sometimes, in this dance that is living

things come undone

threads unravel

and we falter, or stumble,

or break apart at the seams

that’s how life works

the trick is remembering to see the pain

and the sharing of it with others

as an opportunity

to stitch ourselves back together in a new way

with new threads and colours and patterns

to make our life what we want it to be.”

she smiles gently,

and hands me a long golden needle

“are you ready?”


golden threads

Warmer weather traditionally means lighter teas (not always, but we’ll come back to that in another post. I’ve been feeling drawn to this idea lately, and have tried several new and different white, yellow and green varieties over the past several weeks. One in particular that I’ve been coming back to over and over again is an incredible organic yellow varietal called “Golden Yunan”.

Here’s an excerpt from the letter I wrote to my Tea pen pal about this beautiful tea after a recent morning’s sit …

“…I can see all of the tiny delicate golden threads that connect everything together. It’s incredible actually; every time I sit and close my eyes, this web appears before me. At first, I was intimidated; who was I to be able to see and know such divine connections? But I was quickly answered with “you are a child of this earth, and this is your legacy as much as it is anyone else’s”. So now, whenever I sit with her, she takes my hand and guides me along one of the threads; showing me how I am connected to everything and how all things are connected to each other. It’s magical.”

It’s truly a beautiful gift.

I’ve gone back to this space again and agin in ceremony, so much so that now, without even having to sip from a bowl of liquid gold, I can close my eyes and see these threads, spreading out from my own body like a vast network of trails through the cosmos.

This morning’s sit was no different.

A gentle reminder that, no matter how hard yesterday might have been, Today I am right here, right now

And I am connected to the universe through this single bowl of tea.


flower moon musings

the steam from my bowl of tea is mixing with the smoke

of this ancient agarwood incense

two streams become one

slowly rising in curls of white, lifting into infinity

dissolving into nothingness

but leaving a lingering softness

and honey-sweet scent

it’s raining

I can’t see the moon

but I can feel her there

whole and full above us all

rising into infinity

lingering soft and sweet


lessons learned

some days we learn lessons

some days we practice the lessons we’ve learned

it’s a fine balance of skill and grace, peppered with a need to pay attention to the things going on in front of us

for those days when you find yourself learning, have heart

tomorrow, you’ll have something new to practice

Big Love Wild Hearts


the mindfulness bell

a tiny metallic tinkle

the clink of bronze against bronze

beautifully wabi sabi - handmade with love and intention

each time I hear that sounds, it brings me back to my breath

to the honeycomb drum that tirelessly keeps time at my centre

that tiny chime, the simplest of sounds

the most potent of reminders

to breathe

to pause

to connect

to be

Happy Weekend Wild Hearts


start where you are

It’s been over two years since I’ve sat myself down to write a blog post.

So much has changed, evolved, revolved.

So much has shifted, fallen away, broken down and been rebuilt anew.

So much if different now.

But there is something that I know has remained constant - my desire for connection. I’m feeling dared to say that it’s even grown stronger since we last talked in this way, because it’s now the driving force behind all that I aim to do in my life. I feel it in every action, every step, every moment and breath and dream. Connection to my highest self, to this planet and all its incredible life, to our universe and it’s vastness and magic.

So here’s to connection, in whatever form it may take.

Happy Wednesday Wild Hearts