The gift of the sea
Is that of spaciousness
Expansiveness
As far as the eye can see.
When all is busy and chaotic inside,
The sea lulls.
She gives us back our freedom
To soar
To dive
To rest our eyes on nothingness.
She reminds us what it is to be
Belovedly insignificant."
From my most recent book, She of the Sea.
Dreamlike, meditative, poetic, She of the Sea is a love song. To the ocean. To
becoming. To magic. To freedom.
With contributions from thirty sea-loving artists, musicians, cold water swimmers, mothers, environmental educators, witches, mermaids, priestesses and writers from around the world, who share their love for the stretch of sea they call home, from the Irish Sea to the Caribbean, via the Mediterranean and the North Sea, the Pacific and the Atlantic.
Available from all major online book retailers in paperback and ebook and signed from www.womancraftpublishing.com

I do not consent to the narrative
That being rational
Detached
Dissociated or
Numb
Is more mature
More spiritual
More evolved
More enlightened
More true
Than
The wild tenderness of my
Innocent heart
The shaky vulnerability
Of consenting to
The open cut of feeling
Of that place which is both
Radiant and raw
I will no longer turn away from
The hot and holy mess
That can never be cleaned
And call this progress
I admit that I am
Forest and ocean:
Disorganized Art
Made of Medicine
I commit now,
To learning that language
That will never make sense
To ear or brain
The one of belly and feet and
Deep womb of
Heart
The one that does not explain
A single thing
The one that does not need you
To understand
I do not consent
To the narrative
That I must overcome
How completely out of control
It is
To care this much
To feel this deeply
To hold the entire universe in
My belly
I will not attempt to
Colonize
Or conquer
The wild in me
I will no longer
Pathologise
The waves
I am done pretending
I am not sensitive
When the truth is
My heart is made of a million
Tiny
Insect wings
I bow to the feet
Of the sensitive one
I now embrace
The immensity
Of power
Known
When I walk the razors edge
Of that which is so delicate
You must hold your breath
To hear it’s voice
I am here for the language
That is shaky and
Uncertain
That is slow like honey
So slow the mind
Can’t catch it
I no longer consent to the idea
That the unkempt longings
Of my soul
The unbearable heat of my
Desire
The immaculate fragility
Of my skin
Should be neatly sorted
Fixed
Sewed shut
Or understood
The vastness of worlds
This heart can hold
Cannot be justified
It demands from me
An irrational submission
A Total
Devotion
I no longer defer
To the language, values and customs
Of the conqueror
I honor
My willingness
To be touched by life
To taste the wisdom that is only
Revealed
When I admit
The impossible situation
Of just how entangled
I really am
With every
Single
Thing
I no longer turn away
From the bare naked truth
Of the fact
Of my relationship
To all these Holy Others
To the threads my heart has woven
To the wild truth that cannot be uttered
Even by the most skillful tongue
This is the language
That has been called
Crazy
Irrational
Wounded
Weak
Inferior
And
Immature
But now I am learning
That the wide open truth
That can hold it all
That can pulse with the passion
Beyond reason
This,
Is what I am living for
It is the language of
Soul
And I am willing
Now
To hold the flame
Call me crazy
But this feels sane
~ Maya Luna

Livestream @ 12p Eastern • 13 February 2022 • Sunday Gospel Study with Philosopher, Teacher, & Teacha KRS-ONE, Acronologist Minista G SIMONE, Minista SUN-ONE, & The Temple of Hip Hop • Livestream & full video: https://youtu.be/Uvqf8To0Xpg • Comments & discussion: https://t.me/TOHHchat • https://t.me/TheTempleOfHIPHOP/348

Comic strip
Person goes to drink clearly marked bottle of poison
Another person screams don't drink that! And waves their arms
The first person has a look of disgust about bad behavior and says what's wrong with you??
Then the first person drinks the clearly marked Poison
And falls down dead.

"Oh grief
in my heart
like a great black sink
o'er the edge
time is constant
& traveling.
The sabre moves me.
I feel the sting."

🔊 In The 💞🌞🌿🥰🎶🌊✨ Dreamseum No-Spacetime Dance Party • @IntuitiveStory • IPR ••• https://t.me/joinchat/WLws797XmQnyyag5 • https://t.me/IntuitiveStory/451

https://youtu.be/NlsQLnIUHE0

https://open.spotify.com/track/43rlkc4wLhkkWe6q2lo09u?si=mDGkSc_mR9-BKLyyEHZYvQ

Make a practice of describing the infrastructure & response that you require —- in a simple, curious, kindness-oriented style & public media format.
Describe it existing now —- as if you have already achieved it, with the wonderful feelings that accompany that (future, present) realization.
You are writing the story of what happens next with the words you use, each moment.
Write this story the way you want it to happen.
https://t.me/IntuitiveStory/507

Forest Troll
by Swedish fairy tale illustrator John Bauer (1882-1918)

Orpheus by Franz Stassen 1900