James Ballantyne

Tag: faith

  • The Last Judgement.

    The last judgement is the day we’re no longer afraid to be alive again, it when we come back to our real state , our divine self, where we feel a communion of love with everything in existence (Don Miguel Ruiz, The Fifth Agreement)

    This is a far cry from what I grew up believing.

    Though I was spared ‘The Left Behind’ series, UK evangelicalism hadn’t fallen for this work of christian cult fiction (or taken it as the underlying influence for US christian education policy) , I still had given to me, from Sunday school and home, a deep worry of what ‘the last judgement’ could mean.

    Hades, Hell and eternal damnation, or absence from the love of God permeated in my prayers, behaviour, diligence and attempts to be good christian boy/man – with the requisite states of shame for failings and repeated eradication of sin.

    The Last judgement stood as a place of reckoning – appearing even in the Family game ‘The game of life’ . I imagined a replaying of the TV screens in a production room of all the scenes of my life, the good, the bad and the ugly, and everything else. I was going to be judged, and fearing this judgement, and the possibility of ‘going to hell’ featured heavily in my evangelical upbringing as well as further theological studies. The conversations about the end times rattled around endlessly, when a so called 1000 years might occur and how it related to the fires of Hell and end times. No one could even consider that it was more metaphorical than real. That wasnt the question, the question was which.

    The heat of hell was to be feared and avoided.

    Hell was real……and ….

    there were many sermons that would decry that ‘one of the tricks of the devil, is to say that he doesn’t exist, that hell isnt real’ – stoking the fear of disbelieving hell even more – even in slightly more compassionate theological evangelicalism in the UK, this was still a thing said.

    As a good christian boy, I believed it all. Every action was seen through a lens of being judged one day.

    So in effect I did a very good job of judging it each time myself.

    Did I hurt that person? Did I make a mistake? Could I have done better? That was embarrassing James…

    The fear of judgement, created my own personal judgement.

    Id push myself to the brink, because being self critical was a skill, and being ‘reflective’ was a thing people consider me known for. Asking questions.

    None worse than the judgement I gave myself.

    Judgement poured inwards.

    All questions, and almost no heart. Restless frustration that world should be a better place – whilst im wallowing in an ache of hurt, pain and internal suffering that im judging myself for. Spewing criticism outwards, as an outpouring of my own conditioning.

    Hell was what I was living, it wasn’t just in my own mind, it was the drama of all around.

    The last judgement. The decision time.

    Without question, part of my awakening process has been to see my faith in different ways, and though rejecting some of it, re appropriating other aspects, and so whilst I probably rejected the notion of ‘end times Hell’ a long while ago, realising that I was living in my own personal hell and taking power to change it, has taken a very long while.

    Since the moment in 2023, after an emotional breakdown, and undergoing therapy for the 4th time, I saw myself differently.

    (This is the story of that moment)

    It felt different.

    It was as if something awoke inside me

    I felt clean. I felt whole.

    I felt as if I had been swimming in shark infested water all my life, and now I was standing on an island in the sunshine that I didnt even know existed, I couldnt even see it. I felt light, joyful, whole.

    It was a feeling, a sense, a reality that has, with the exception of a few challenging situations, been a place that I have been able to stay in, to return to – because I know now that it exists.

    Some might call it awakening, or realisation of consciousness or the moment when I walked through my own personal shadows and hell, to gently loving let these parts of me go.

    The last judgement might just be the last time you make a judgement.

    I didnt believe it would continue. There was a part of me that would envisage me falling back into the waters, and theres been moments of my toes and maybe knees getting wet again. But these moments haven’t been met with self criticism, or failure, or disregard (you know that voice that wants to disregard the ‘good’ moments as blips, and suggest that ‘real’ is the struggle)

    The last judgement.

    Is a place thats possible to create- but its a place the finds you. I didnt go after it, there isnt a magic formula, it arrived when I was ready.

    Judgement is a place of safety, security and dependence, it’s also a place of fear and lack of self trust – and this stuff is hard to work through. But when it happens, you know, you just know.

    It’s like that inner spaciousness that gets bigger.

    It’s not just a crack where the light gets in- thats the start – , more an embodied lightness of being, where being is love and light – and its judgements, of self, of the other, of the past, of the future, of the world – that become the blockages in the light tube.

    Maybe they were the true ‘sins’ after all. Not the actions, but the judgements.

    But 45 years of self critical programming, I realise had to be reorientated. The language I used for myself, in how I spoke to myself – had changed in the preceding 5 years – but the voices of my inner protective dialogue hadn’t been dug out at their roots – and they were my default programming, I was unconsciously competent at beating myself up, for everything I did or didnt do. That was the voice. I didnt need God to do this for me – though deep down I believed in a God that was about to… I did it to myself.

    After the moment when my therapist heard my story of taking myself into the shadows, and telling me that ‘James, you are incredible’ and my response, instead of self denial, or reluctant acceptance, was ‘I think I believe you’

    I walked down to the bookstore and wrote the positive words of being incredible, down, and repeated and repeated. I bought a blank journal for 2024 and wrote down only positive messages of myself to myself each day, sometimes it was wrestled determination, but most days, using coloured pens, there were stars and hearts and rainbows and words of grace and love and joy and power for myself – from my imagination or the universe to myself……and a re-writing of my inner dialogue – to retrain or to give more practice – or to give more weight to my inner God, my inner heart, the voice of my soul.

    Using language to become acquainted with the beauty of love and life for myself. To create on a daily basis a space of the island within my being. Using words of love and not self judgement for myself. Writing it daily embodied my belief in it. Writing it daily fed the loving voice. And where there is love, there isnt judgement.

    I get how positive psychology is both derided and believed in – (this could come across as this). This wasn’t a path I chose, it just found me, as I realised that self belief was something that I could make for myself. But I couldnt allow myself to do so, whilst I was in place of self judgement.

    Fear of the beyond, where critical judgement wasn’t the dominant voice wasnt a known place, it was a prison of my normal…so it was easier to obey and stay at its mercy.

    Faith in yourself is the real faith. Real faith is to trust in yourself unconditionally , because you know who you really are, and you really are the truth

    (The Fifth Agreement)

    When you find the place of self truth, it will become apparent that the ways of living previously were prisons that you (and I) had made ourselves more comfortable in than we would like to believe. And one of those was the place of judgement – where someone, something, some system, some part of ourselves – is to blame or causes us to blame ourselves.

    Judgements are fractures in our wholeness, beliefs to keep us stuck in places of restraint and comfort, they feel easy – they lie easily and are believed easily – especially when we feel we need to belong in the very systems that permeate them (religion, family etc) as moral codes or stated behaviours….until we realise, or start to notice….that to buy into the judgement is to remain stuck, in someone else’s personal hell or even our own. Judgement creates it.

    Notice what happens when you stop making judgements.

    Notice what happens, when you stop yourself beating yourself up.

    Notice what happens when you feed the voice inside that is gentle warm and kind.

    Notice what happens when you completely accept yourself. Your body. Your actions. Your past. Your emotions. Your thoughts,

    Notice what happens when you let go of being judgemental

    Notice what happens when judgement feels wrong and not normal anymore.

    Notice what happens when the lie of judgement is exposed.

    The last judgement, might be the last judgement you might make – before life actually begins.

    Beyond judgement beckons, as place of deep agreement – where no-thing but love, light, life matters – it just is and it feels like heaven.

    Maybe the last judgement is the last tine you make a judgement.

  • The Lies on Trumans Wall.

    Im definitely not going to be the first person to give some thought to the themes in the film ‘The Truman Show’ which was released in 1997 (I think), in fact on of my best friends wrote her Masters thesis on it, linking it to the christian faith. 

    But I think nearly 30 years later (ouch) I can do a few spoilers. 

    Truman is born into an artificially created universe for the purposes of being filmed constantly on TV, he is the star of his own TV show, that he doesn’t know, from birth, to school, to friends, to girlfriend, all are actors in the set, and this is his life. 

    On a number of occasion people invade the set to try and ‘free’ him, and gradually, and accidentally he begins to realise that what he thought was normal, was actually scripted, and regular behaviours by actors on the set, people going to work, the street cleaner always in the same place, the lift actually not being a real lift in the lift shaft next to the one he usually used. His ‘wife’ talking to the camera to advertise a cereal product, in the midst of a conversation. Branding was everywhere because this funded the series, and it was big money. 

    It was Big brother before big brother came to being, yet big brother was voluntary act, Truman show was about the story of Truman – being the only True Man, and everything around him being fake. 

    What Truman had to start doing was realising that there were patterns to peoples behaviour. 

    What Truman had to start doing was realising that whilst no one was completely lying, they were all affected by the desire to control and contain, because, they were being paid to ‘keep the show on the road’ sponsorship, branding and advertisements were driving, and popularity moments (like first kiss and wedding) were big popular national collecting moments, in which sponsorship craved. 

    What Truman had to start to do was disrupt the patterns. 

    What Truman then started to have to do was decide when and where he was going to believe and accept the lies happening around him. His Mate on the truck on the bridge, they have a long conversation, ‘I wouldn’t lie to you’ he says. But he is. 

    Truman starts to realise that inner pull to something closer to the truth. 

    He only knows the structured world of his existence, a world in which everyone is lying to him, a world which has been cleverly constructed and formed. 

    But he starts to realise that he has been lied to for all of his life. 

    And he starts to express the emotions of this

    He begins to realise that the world in which he has been contained in – even if its being broadcast to millions, wasnt free and wasnt big enough, for though he had dreams to go to far off lands, every boat he tried to use to get through was subject to ‘fake’ storms and weather incidents…. fake weather he began to notice…. 

    His anger at being lied to began to fuel the energy for him to find freedom, and live a life of truth, beyond the falsity of containment, marketing and to also realise and find the person who once loved him. 

    For so many of us … actually 

    I am definitely in a phase of ‘middle age rage’ at the moment, and im sure I am not the only one. 

    Whether we feel small, and been kept small for too long

    Whether we realise that we’ve been lied to, or not believed

    Whether we feel like our world has been clipped and shrunk

    Whether we’ve been told were not good enough, clever enough, pretty enough, worked hard enough, in the right job etc etc…

    Or told to stay within the confines of lies to stay safe, small and loyal. 

    Whether were not able to be ‘true’ to our purpose, destiny or calling

    Whether we’re being or have been abused and contained. 

    Whether our minds have been conditioned by all of this, happening to us, in childhoods, churches, systems, workplaces, relationships, wherever. 

    And often, subconsciously we swap one place of lies for another, because its what we got used to. 

    Im realising now quite how much I experienced suppression. 

    Realising how I made myself small. 

    I realised that my mum was lying about me, and to me, and always was, but I had to go along with believing her, whilst I was in the house, until I was 18 and until I was free, so free that I was sick on the train leaving home. Free to not have to navigate suffocating and destructive lies on a daily basis. 

    With so much disorientation around him, Truman grew up in a place that the blurred lines between what was real and what was fake were difficult to notice. The people themselves were real, physically, but they were being pulled by invisible strings (often also with ear pieces in ) . Invisible strings of a controlling director and a team of producers and TV staff. When I was 18/19 and watching the movie the first time I had so little ability to see how relevant it was for me. 

    ‘The Truth will set you free…… but it will piss you off first’ (source contested)

    ‘For centuries, even millenia, humans have believed that a conflict exists in the human mind between good and evil. But this isnt true. Good and evil are just the result of the conflict. The real conflict is between truth and lies. (Ruiz, The Fifth Agreement) 

    The Lies on Trumans wall were keeping him safe.

    They were also keeping him contained.

    They were told they were for his benefit .

    What are the ones you believe in, that you can’t let go of?

    But they were for the TV viewers, for the paid actors, for the paid TV staff, for everyone else. 

    Everyone else benefitted by Trumans containment. 

    The lies on Trumans wall needed rage, needed awareness, need for him to see them, and see the effects of them on him. How nothing made sense and nothing was real. 

    Nothing emotionally was real in a world played by fakery, by sheen, and for performance. Truman was the star of a show he didnt want to be in. Yet he played it until he realised it was fake. Yet he played it until he realised it was doing him harm. 

    For I have come that you might have life, life in all its fullness (John 10:10, The Bible)

    And that might mean being a sheep free from a pen that Jesus describes, in which the thief is present, to roam and explore the hillside, knowing that theres a safe shepherd at the gate as a touchpoint back. 

    Truman didnt know what lay beyond the wall at the edge of the known world to him. He didnt know how even to get out. But something real was burning inside. 

    He didnt even know there was an out. He just kept going. With the belief that there was one day a person who showed him what love was and that she was waiting. 

    Maybe it’s beauty that does save us in the end (Dostoevsky) , but it might take a period of rage at the unreality to get there. The Lies on Trumans wall, at the edges of his universe held him in, until he realised there was something else, something deeper at the source of his soul that urged him to look, urged him to find it. 

    Freedom was beyond the lies on Trumans wall. Freedom is to live a life free from lies, from the lies we believed and and the lies we inherited. Freedom from the lies we tell ourselves. 

    And Truman after all that rage. Just walked through. Once he found the door. 

    The Universe conspires to help the dreamer (Paulo Coelho) 

  • Will you be brave and give love a chance?

    Will you be brave and give love a chance?

    One of the reasons we men dont want to deal with our shit is because we dont believe we have the capacity to love ourselves.

    In many scenarios, whether from driven, neglectful, absent or collusive, abusive parents, Love was absent, and instead rules and expectations.

    In School, that wasnt the place either.

    And then there was the competitiveness of existing, having to win at football, chess or reading, having to be the best, having to compete and complete…

    Having to grow up, having to stay strong, having to not be weak

    And all the while, that little voice inside, seemed to grow smaller and smaller, the trappings of externals whilst dying inside.

    Not believing in Love.

    Not knowing Love

    Unless conditional, unless dependent, unless loaded, unless

    Unless hidden even behind labels in sacred stories. Believe in God (who is Love btw) or Jesus, or Mohammad, or whoever, and have the strength and power of Love be hidden behind all of these, and even then, some of these institutions require loyalty or adherence (of rules, of routines) and preach love like its a strategy for expansion. Conditional love, and rarely love of the self, love of the body, love of the past, love of feeling, hurts or wounds. Just pray them away and come back for more, morality the enemy of growth, and maybe even the enemy of love.

    Or you chose a different path, another Vocation, Military, Farming, Teaching, Medicine… All where the purity of what you wanted to be, got lost in the system of numbers, discipline and rules.

    And the was presented as real. This is the real world.

    Dreamers and Artists those who love. Sensitive ones weak.

    Macho. Hurting. Insecure. Violence. Real Man.

    Ugh.

    Deny the hurt, hide it away.

    Soothe the pain by satirical comedy, busyness, the rat race that continually exhausts, failure for the weak, vulnerability for the soft.

    Cultural masculinity at its best. Show no pain. Keep going.

    Until the cracks appear. Until desperation. because:

    If theres no such thing as Love, then it doesn’t matter does it. Beat up your wife, beat up yourself, steal, take and destroy, because Love is absent, Love isnt real, Love is just once a year, and your loveless head, can’t cope with not being in charge. Its running a show thats destroying you, but because you dont believe in Love, you can’t believe that you have to capacity to love, then you dont face it, you can’t, its too fucking big and painful and you think that it looks weak, or a failure, or your mates will think you weird, or you dont have time, or you dont have….

    Deep down its fear.

    Fear…that Love might actually be what’s required….

    Deep down it’s too much.

    You’d rather believe in power than believe in yourself.

    Deep down you have a heart, but its hidden under layers

    Deep down you have shared that heart to help others even whilst wounded yourself….

    Help….not heal….

    Its deep, because its underneath so many layers and blockages that youve put in there, pain soothers, pain avoiders, and these have caused further shame, guilt and pain – addiction, violence, manipulation – all outward projections of deeper hurt, masking anxiety, depression, abuse, the weight of expectation, perfection and trying to please, or make someone proud who is never satisfied – name your pain and add it here. ____________-

    All that stuff feels heavy and feels impossible to love. Shame monsters feel big. We know we’ve done wrong to others, to ourselves…to keep what’s hidden underneath at bay.

    Can I tell you a secret.

    You have the capacity to love yourself, if you are alive, you have a heart.

    You have the capacity to be vulnerable, to ask for help, to begin a different path

    To shed the masks, the fake strength, the keeping going, the weight if pain and suppression, the false appearances that are aching at your soul.

    The very first time I felt a surge of self love and realised a feeling of true self worth was the day I decided to go to therapy. A tiny step of bravery and fear, a tiny tiny shard of self love, to begin the very beginning step of facing and bringing hurt and pain to light. It’s not for everyone, and I needed a safe place to start.

    Most of you will have that, somewhere, and trust me on this, you might need new friends, or new people who can be your cheerleaders, or have ‘been there’ – once you begin this path, you’ll be surprised who shows up and where it takes you.

    Because you can.

    Healing isnt weak, it’s the bravest thing you can do.

    Sometimes we’re so addicted to the cycle of pain and denial that we wear it like a cloak, preferring blame and victimhood as a norm.

    Dont believe me when I say you can love yourself?

    You dont have to. Thats your choice.

    But stay in unbelief and stay as you are, and nothing changes.

    Love is such a powerful force in the universe and stronger than you think.

    It’s been there all along. Aching to be listened to….maybe it’s time to let it.

    You have the capacity to love yourself, because Love is you.

    It’s been you all along.

    And…..it will save you in the end.

    You just were told otherwise, and believed in it to conform, to hide.

    Yeah, and this all has in some ways applied to me.

    We are all in this together.

  • In the Nothing, There is Everything.

    In the Nothing, There is Everything.

    Over the last few years, one of the hobbies I have taken up since Covid has been bird watching, and generally enjoying nature more and more. But bird hides, these are fascinating places, and I have a few favourite ones. Yesterday I had a bit of a lucky day, seeing a hobby, greenshank, bittern and an osprey.

    ‘Theres nothing going on’ is so often a deliciously tempting phrase to set the tone in a bird hide, this translates to ‘Whilst there is a panorama of unpredictability of natural life outside, there isnt an unusual bird today to get excited about’ just the seemingly usual birds. In the tempting demand to make life consistently exciting and full, the chase can be on, to go to the places where the ‘interesting birds are.

    Modern life, and modern expressions of faith, often want to fill, rather than keep the empty spaces open, the gap, the pause. We’re frustrated when the ‘gap’ between trains is too long at the station, when theres a gap in the curtains, when there a gap in the TV schedule, church services full of activities in their 90 minutes. Silence feels uncomfortable. Yet…

    What would be music without its gaps?

    There is inside each of us, a sacred pause, a gap, a space. A place where thoughts are watched like birds in a bird hide, some stick around a bit, others fly past fleetingly, some hover, pounce and leave marks. Yet in that place of watching, there is a gap. A gap, like undrawn curtains where the light is. A gap like an artist sees between objects that give the objects their identity. Inside you and me, the sacred gap accompanies our every waking moment, waiting to be noticed, like the things of the thoughts themselves.

    And that sacred pause is where the power is, the joy is, a wonder, mystery, and where love is, its where our consciousness envelops the divine eternal oneness, its where no-thing exists and everything exists all at once.

    And it’s there all the time.

    Find life in no-thing. The Sacred Pause.

    Where – No – thing separates.

    Because it connects as one. Whole being.

    In the nothing there is everything.

  • Finding Peace at Neros.

    Finding Peace at Neros.

    When it comes down to it, the only place where there is peace, is in the sanctity and sanctuary of your own heart.

    Beyond the noise of a million thoughts that delegate themselves self importance and demand a million answers to.

    Am I good enough?

    Am I real? What shall I do now?

    Can I make the right decision?

    What shall I write today? will I find my table at Neros? (as if its mine)

    As I walked in the rain to Caffè Nero this morning, present-ness diffused by the inner suffering of a thousand and one thought voices. Hoping for a clear walk and focus on writing for the morning, yet too many thoughts swirled instead. Hopes and expectations, anxieties and excitements, fears and dreams, certainties and uncertainties all rolled into not one, but many thoughts.

    Then standing in the queue for coffee, choice to think about.

    Macchiato, Cappuccino or Latte.

    Nope. Stick to the normal ‘Flat White’ today not the day to be different or brave.

    And then I sat down.

    And journalled.

    Most of what youre reading now.

    There is only peace in the sanctuary of the heart.

    Beyond thought

    Beyond the sights, the sights of colours and shapes, the busyness of a million movements around, people in sports clothing (ready to do the local 10k), the efficient and caring service of the caffe Nero staff, on this busy frenetic Sunday. I watch as their hands upturn cups, pull levers, find muffins, make unusually early luxury hot chocolate. I notice with eyes. Eyes focussed outward, on the process of coffee that draws my attention.

    Momentarily away from the choice in my mind.

    And then I remember the peace and stillness. Conscious remembering of the possibility of peace.

    So, that its then when I write it down. It’s what I read this week, from a book on buddhist meditation.

    There is only peace in the sanctuary of the heart.

    It can’t be found anywhere else. Yet we look.

    The green space is full of suffering if our mind isnt in it

    The coffee shop is full of peace..if our heart is open to it.

    The pathways that offer peace by their words id often dissolved into anxiety by their actions, and shame by their attitude.

    Peace, beyond all understanding. Beyond all thought.

    There is only peace in the stillness of your heart. In that sanctuary beyond.

    Beyond the wrestle, beyond the hustle, beyond.

    Beyond a thousand thoughts that demand an answer.

    Beyond thinking, is that feeling

    Untrusted, brave, hidden, aspirational

    Seemingly impossible Peace.

    It isnt found. It’s there all along.

    Everything else just needs to get out of the way.

    And Peace chosen instead.

    For a million thoughts want a million answers to problems that are rarely there.

    Thinking on peace, creates the moment.

    Irrationally and bravely.

    It’s there inside you all along.

  • You Can’t force your Jigsaw (But do open the box)

    You Can’t force your Jigsaw (But do open the box)

    Each of us has bits of us that we dont really like. Theres the bits of us that got damaged by our parents or family when we grew up, whether this was abuse, neglect, abandonment, the choices of our parents and the hurts of these. Theres the bits of us in school, the parts where we adapted, the parts of us that we’re wounded, hurt. Theres the parts of us that we’d rather not talk about in polite company, the parts of us that turned to sex or drugs or alcohol or something other to soothe the pain, or the parts of us that hid away, the parts of us that acted in fear, anxiety, acted in vengeance and transferred inner anger from parents or jobs, onto partners, children or pets. Theres the parts of us that made choices when in survival mode, choices to be busy, choices to give to others from neediness, choices to take advantage of others, choices not to view another persons dignity and humanity, only as a service t our own. Then theres choices and actions in denial, to run away from dealing with the pain, to avoid it, to hide it.

    We all have them.

    Your pain might feel huge. But you are definitely not alone.

    All making our heart, our mind, our bodies…feel not quite right, or very quite wrong, or just stuck, or weary…

    All with a root of shame, or guilt or anger.

    And we would rather not go there.

    Then theres that inner voice that accompanies them all.

    Shame, Loathing, Guilt, Perfectionism, Control, Fear… all protecting the parts, all making a good argument for ‘not going there’ .

    And so often the morality we encounter – the shame of what we encountered, or what we did, or what we didnt do, who we hurt… feels too much to accept, feels too much to be able to get real about.

    We’d rather hide than face the truth

    We’d rather mask and hide than go there.

    We’d rather continue on, with that ache inside, than give light and warmth to a state of being thats hurting ourselves and others, yet its doing exactly that, and we’re spinning out of control.

    ‘So often… Morality is the Enemy of Growth’ (John O Donohue)

    The moral obligation to look good

    The moral obligation to be strong

    The moral obligation to ‘battle’ through darkness (or sin)

    The moral obligation to not feel shame, is to not feel anything.

    Yet, as a result that ache and pain haunts like a shadow, becoming more and more entrenched when challenged.

    I know. I didnt want to go there. Trying to keep a status quo whilst dying inside and running away from the pain, and the shame of what I was doing to soothe it. Until I cracked between it all, and lost everything, and yet…. realised that when everything was lost, I found something much more precious… eventually.

    Because those parts of us we’d rather hide are like parts of a jigsaw, and along with our hearts, our minds and bodies, theres fragmentation and fracturing within, caused by all the damage, to us and by us.

    And jigsaws, especially those with brittle edge pieces dont fit or mould together with force. Like trying to get two cuttlefish pieces to interlock.

    Friend. It isnt an inner battle you have to win.

    Battles are for armies.

    It isnt a war on the inside between the parts, even if they are raging, and making a noise. Their voice is often so loud.

    Your wounded parts are part of you, but they aren’t you.

    You hold the blow torch.

    Your heart is the gas.

    Love is the flame.

    And your parts and their raw, pained, rugged edges, mould together not with force, but with love, love that powers, love that emirates, love that emerges from your heart….once you finally, surrender, accept and listen to its call. Love from within resolves fractures and pain. Its warmth that melts the edges and aligns them into your soul and heart, its love that unifies your fractures and fragments, Its love that brings wholeness.

    Being a friend to the parts of you, the shame of your past that you’d rather not admit to, is a path marked with the deepest, most passionate and erotic love you can imagine, making love to your inner parts, melting their pain away with tenderness that is possible, even if thats new.

    Pain leaves with tears, leaves in a warm car, on the road to your own soul, to be met with harmony and kindness.

    The darkness you’re doing a battle with, in that tough man masculine way, won’t leave until you and your armour back down, and instead surrender to heat, light and love, and yes, that means losing control.

    But right now your pieces feel all over the places and control is an illusion anyway, shards of temporary colour disconnected, carried in a box that doesn’t want to be opened.

    Dare you lovingly open the lid…. and may love guide you in the integration of your whole, melting, welding, searing and bringing you to a harmony within, harmony your soul is already grasping for in the moments of pain you’re trying to hide.

  • Crossing the Rainbow bridge.

    Crossing the Rainbow bridge

    Where love holds as we get to the edge

    Love awaits on the crossing

    Love walks over

    Love guides

    Love that got me there, waiting to cross

    Love that got me there,  path out of view

    Love that held me, walking wounded, trapped on the island

    Path shrouded, destiny dimmed

    Love that wrestled me into hope

    Love that burned faintly on the inside

    Despair and resilience poured into grit.

    Walking fearful, walking lost

    Walking wounded, walking confused

    Walking weighted, walking hunched

    Love builds bridges like rainbows

    To a life unseen in the cloud of foggy darkness

    That got me to the edge

    To see, a step on an unknown path

    Where Love from the deep wash calling all along

    Presence of love, mysteriously aloof..but there.

    All. Along.

    Love like rainbows, over an arched bridge.

    Colours of healing, awakened in love

    Red , for desire, anger and pain

    Orange , for freshness, new life

    Green for the shoots of emerging free

    Blue for the calm, peace, or the sea

    Purple and violet, for Love is just deep, and beyond, an invitation to find, indescribable, eternal magical complexity, of purple.

    They’re all of you, all of love, all on the bridge

    All on a rainbow

    For you, of you and with you

    One, slow, eye opening, heart opening, accepting step at a time

    The language of soul, calling to your heart tune.

    Loves all fears to the ground

    Frees us into a new being

    United, cleansed, together on the inside,

    Radiant on the out.

    From death into life.

    Each step along the rainbow bridge

    Journeying with love

    Water underneath, water in the air

    Life sources rippling all around

    Love carrying, holding,

    Life showing itself

    Steps of longing

    The invitation of belonging

    You are held, transforming

    Fly from the bridge

    Fly beyond

    May your feet dance on the bridge and never look back

    Lightness awaits

    Created by love

    It’s your time, to dream and become

    Glow radiant, in light, in loves colour grow

    Make love to the universe

    Passion and grace,

    A new world is yours now

    And love is your song.

  • Beatitudes for the Healing.

    Blessed are the fighters, the lighters and the torch bearers…….. for they will recover truth.

    Blessed are the lovers, the carers and the helpers …. for they will resource life

    Blessed are the those unseen, unheard and unappreciated … for one day their grace will give them life

    Blessed are those feeling lost in the dark, for one day they will find their light.

    Blessed are those who grieve, may their tears heal and open hearts to joy.

    Blessed are those imprisoned by shame and self blame, may they one day let anger find their freedom.

    Blessed are those whose thoughts torment endlessly, may they find that beyond all noise is Love

    Blessed are they who have been scared and felt small, for one day may they discover their immensity.

    Blessed are those who feel alone, afraid or despair, may they receive angels guiding them in the midst.

    Blessed are the compassionate and the healers, for they will be first to find life.

    Blessed are the quiet, for they will receive miracles.

    Blessed are the wounded, the fractured and the abused, for one day love will make them whole.

    Blessed are the scapegoats, the isolated and the estranged, for they will discover joy from the universe

    Blessed are those whose battle is survival, for one day they will dream.

    Blessed are the vulnerable, may their path be woven with deep trust.

    Blessed are the sensitives, for they will inherit the wisdom of the earth.

    Blessed are those who walked with darkness, may they receive the rewards of peace.

    Blessed are the hyper vigilant, for one day they will stand tall with what they see.

    Blessed are the dreamers – for they will be blessed.

    Blessed are the creatives, for they will share the desire of divines colour

    Blessed are the Warriors and Worriers who over came, for they will fly like the white tailed eagle.

    May you all find and be Blessed.

  • Divine adventure within

    ‘Rather than trying to set out like some isolated cosmonaut in search of God, maybe the secret is to let God find you. Instead of endeavouring to reach out in order to first find God, you realise you are now in the matrix and the adventure is the discovering of the utterly new and unspoken dimensions of the inexhaustible divine ; this brings with it a new sense of ease with your self and your solitude ‘  (John O Donohue, Divine Echoes)

    Just sharing this, as it’s rich with meaning and depth.

    It’s time to just be open and accept that the divine is inside all along….

    It just is.

    Just that sometimes we’re peering in on it…but as we stay open love and energy flows through, as our ego gets out of the way. 

    And the divine breath emerges from the deep. 

  • Wounded hands….that Cooked.

    Wounded hands….that Cooked.

    ‘Then Jesus served them with the fish’

    This is from Johns Gospel, Chapter 21 v 12.

    The post resurrection stories have always fascinated me, there’s about 5 pieces on Emmaus and the fishing story on my old blog alone, and I was about to do a full research MA on Emmaus at one time.

    So, on this easter monday, I’m sitting with a coffee and reading them again.

    From John 21.

    The disciples, full.of uncertainty of their futures, and the relationship they have with Jesus, head out fishing.

    A normal avoidant, fearful thing to do, when in trauma, stay busy, don’t let the thoughts appear, go back to something familiar….people please by doing something helpful…

    They don’t catch fish…..but it wasn’t about the fish.

    Until Jesus appears and tells them where.

    And then they catch fish.

    And they recognise him.

    And they head onto the beach with their catch, excited, fearful,

    Jesus had cooked fish.

    And was about to cook more.

    On a fire.

    Now, I’m no expert in 1st Century beach barbeques, or cooking utensils, but I’m going to hazard a guess that it wasn’t a gas stove with utensils….

    Maybe sticks hanging fish over the fire….or a primative pan…

    But it just struck me…

    The disciples could see that Jesus had cooked fish, with his bare wounded hands…..

    And in doing so…I wonder….

    Might there be a something in the how and what he cooked? 

    Would they have some idea of his ‘mood’ towards them by the way he was cooking the fish….

    Anxious, angry hands struggle with delicate cooking

    Anxious angry minds can’t process many things at once

    And fish needed delicately cooking over a fire…with all that heat

    Maybe the disciples could see in the way that Jesus cooked the fish, how he was cooking, and sense how they were about to be treated emotionally.

    If Jesus wounded hands were calm, and gentle with delicate fish, even if their palms were sore with wounds….might this have given the disciples reassurance of their woundedness.and fear being gently handled too?

    Was this what the disciples noticed?

    I wonder…

    They were used to Jesus serving them, he washed their feet, this was a breakfast on the beach with layers on.

    Maybe their was something in the way Jesus cooked, not just where, when and what he cooked.

    Wounded hearts require delicate gentle warmth.

    It wasn’t about the fish, or fishing, it was something else, yes it was something that resonated with them, fish was part of their routine and past, yet…maybe it was in the way in which it was being prepared, and cooked….that wounded hands cooked gentle and with love,  the disciples felt safe, felt cared for, despite all the uncertainty around them.