Archive of ‘The Goddess’ category

Gathering beauty

1512629_514746288623785_1358495770_nSometimes I just long for beautiful places. For beauty in and of itself. At times I glimpse it, – when I open and my eyes and look around me. When I sit in silence and listen to the trees.

Yesterday I stood outside my apartment, with my cup of rose tea and gazed into the lake, seeing two white water lilies floating on its surface. I drank them in, along with my tea, and the dazzling light spreading across the lake and forest as the sun inched closer to the mountains.

Sometimes life feels a little painful. It’s hard to be myself and nothing more. It’s hard to not run away from what I am and to walk with the Goddess, as I’ve asked her to help me do.

I guess I want to be in life and not hide from it any longer. The more I’m in it the more things I also notice, and appreciate. I hope that makes sense.

And I think that when I gather beauty during the day, I also bring it into my dreams. Today, in the early morning I found myself next to snow-touched mountains and a grey ocean. It felt wild, ice cold, though there was no real sense of temperature. It was a dream, and I felt free.

I’ve been reading this lately, longing even more for my Mother. The Goddess. Today I listened to this talk and felt drawn to what he says about beauty growing inside of you. 

From my heart

I sat on that little hill overlooking the lake, with my feet bare in the dirt, my skirt trailing over my legs. The sun was just about to set behind the mountains, and the last of its light was in the water below me. The mountains were a mixture of blue and green in the distance. I just sat in silence, looking around me, drawing on some unseen energy to fill up a well inside of me, that felt pretty dried up and empty.

The world was full of a constant music, wind and water and birds. 

And the more I looked, the more I noticed things. Tiny black ants crawling down a moss covered tree, the rustle of wind through leaves, a yellow bird that somehow didn’t see me, landing on a branch only a few steps away. 

The evening makes me think deeper thoughts. I realize that I really do want to write about the Goddess, but I’m not sure what to say, and I’m also a little afraid. Afraid people might not like it, and that I’ll leave my heart too open and volnurable.

Sometimes I read Christian devotional books, not because I consider myself Christian, but because I would like to be closer to God, and also the Goddess. I would like to feel love, and give up my worries to something much greater than myself. I would like to be guided and carry light inside of me. 

Does anyone else yearn for these things? 

As I write my novel, I sometimes have to stop and pray, because the words flow much better when I give up control a little bit, and when I ask for help. It feels like I could give my whole life over to her, but it’s harder than I’d imagined it to be. But it feels like everything would be taken care of if I just let go and trusted her. 

I’m writing a story about a priestess because I’d like to live a life like that. In total devotion to her. There is something very beautiful in it, and it also feels very familiar to me, like an old memory.

I feel we all have different things that inspire us, that we dream of. I would love to know your thoughts.  

Quiet Spaces

Blair_Leighton_God_SpeedThey are so fragile, these voices that want to come through. I hear them and close my eyes fro a moment, listening. But sometimes I feel too thin and worn to write them down, and I need more listening, more watching as spring comes out, the world unfurling itself in green and new colors.

I’ve been wandering through quiet spaces, looking for words, light, myself. The Goddess.

I went outside to see if my rocks were there, the flat ones by the lake. And I found them, only half swallowed by the recent rain, and I sat down, hugging my knees, gazing out on the sky and water, the distant mountains. The world felt warm and friendly, alive once more with bees and flowers, green grasses saying and gleaming in the sunlight. A yellow butterfly fluttered over the lake, and I watches waves lap against rocks, leaving wet glittering shapes. 

Later I gathered windflowers. There are so many of them now, like white blankets in the fields, and I pick them, love them. They’re my childhood remembered. But there are other flowers too. Dandelion, the first violets along the roadside. I walked in the warmth of the sun, picked green leaves to nibble on, heard the clear song of birds, saw shadows of wings on the road.  

These are light days, bright days, the world transformed into green and colors, and the nights are half nights, pale and without stars. In the evening, I look outside and I can still see everything clearly, the world draped in soft blue, the mountains black shapes in the lake.

I walk between windows a lot, between tasks, breathing the air coming in. I feel I’ve been woken from a dream, a dark winter dream, and nothing seems quite real. Everything changed in the blink of an eye. 

When the Light Speaks

Cavé, Jules-Cyrille (b,1859)- My Daisies, Flower-Girl, 1897 -2b

Cavé, Jules-Cyrille (b,1859)- My Daisies, Flower-Girl

I gathered wind-flowers and put them in a vase next to where I’m writing now, to stay close to their magic. I also noticed the first of the nettles, peeking through the dirt, and watched the sky for a long time, above the glittering lake.

Something was gathering power out there, coming back alive, the sky full of clouds, dark and white ones, with light between them. I felt I wanted to stand in the wind, watching them, feel into that slow brooding something. It reminded me of summer, which often feels like thunder, like sun and rain and storm, and yet most of the time nothing happens. But I love that beautiful contrast, darkness tinted with gold.

Evening light

I went into my bedroom, because it lets in the evening light, though its window is narrow. And I can only see green branches, pine cones, a bit of sky, and distant mountains. 

I sat gathering flowers in my heart, mostly roses because they are a favorite, but also violets, forget-me-nots. I was reading in that white silent space, hearing the wind outside, mending something inside of me that had been hurt, a worry that says I can’t trust myself, what I sense and feel. The world has its loud opinions, that I shrink from, turning to the Goddess, the angels, praying that what I hear, deep in my bones, truly is their guidance. 

Sometimes I go from room to room, window to window, watching the sky. And just before sunset I see waves of light on the walls, streaming through my apartment, and the birds are full of magic and song, and I hear them, like crystal water, calling forth the night.  

The Goddess of my Heart

e9a72c84ece37401c239da53ba75a2c4I found tiny feathers along the forest path, white fluffy ones, perhaps from a bird’s chest, or beneath a wing. And I bent down, touched them, so soft, smiled. It made me think about angels, how people say that a white feather is a sign from them, and I wanted to believe, but then frowned, leaving the feathers were they were. Yet something had touched my heart, a whisper of love saying we’re here, we’re here.

I wonder if they want me to look for miracles in everyday things.

The Goddess

I want to write about the Goddess, but I hold myself back. I’m not sure why. Perhaps I’m afraid of displeasing people somehow, in some way. I once went to a spiritual expo, got a reading, and the man said I had been killed in a past life for my beliefs, and he said there was nothing to worry about now since that couldn’t happen anymore. I was 20 then, and not really on a spiritual path, but I broke down in tears. I also feel this is a popular thing being told to people, and I don’t know if it’s true. I just feel that fear inside of me.

As a child, when I imagined God, sometimes a line of old, stern men would come into my mind, dark clad and angry. Maybe they are from a past life too. I don’t know.

I stood in the shower yesterday, letting hot water pour over me, and I felt the Goddess in me, in my flesh and bones and blood. I felt she was speaking about light, and how we’re all a light that just needs to shine, simply, for what we are.

And the other day I prayed to her because I felt alone, lost. I seem to fall back into those places now and again. And I wondered where she was. I got the feeling to look into my heart, to feel what my heart wanted, what it yearned for, and that she would be there.

I felt I could not control her, make her come to me, though I’d feel a rush of love when I asked for help. A rose opening inside of me. Perhaps she’s always there, intimately connected to us, and when we forget our true hearts, we forget her.

Earth and Sky

I feel more and more people becoming curious about her, and that there is a longing for her to return to us, though I’m sure she never really left. I feel there needs to be that balance, between male and female, earth and sky.

Maybe if we saw the earth as the Goddess, we would not destroy her, because it would go against our spirituality. Now we cut things down, poison, destroy, because trees, grass, and flowers, the ocean, are not seen as living things, with soul, beauty, purpose. There is greed too, of course, which blinds us. 

I walked in the forest and wished that beauty was our highest value, and that we would not cut down a tree, because it was just too beautiful, and we would find some other way to build our houses. The forest around me is lovely, but it is mostly pine and fir, which means it was put there to one day be cut down, which is big business here. I often come upon areas with hardly a tree, just an open wound in the middle of the woods, and it hurts to be there. I don’t like it. It feels like the sun is too harsh, the air too open and hurting, and I want to hurry through, to be among the trees again.

I’m just pouring out my soul this morning, it seems, as I watch the sun touch the birch trees outside my window, a play of light and shadow, my favorite moment of the day.

I was wondering if you have felt some of the things I write about? Do you long for the Goddess, do you feel you have lived before? Do you want to protect beauty in the world?

A beautiful rose-colored post, which inspired me. 

Waiting for Morning

In the Meadow, by Auguste Renoir.

In the Meadow, by Auguste Renoir.

Something I wrote the other day…

Some days feel all wrong like the world is out to get you and nothing goes right. You ache and feel exhausted for no reason at all, and yesterday I gave up, went to bed early and curled up, glancing at a star outside my window, between the branches of the pine tree. I didn’t even try to pretend anymore but went to sleep explaining things to my Divine Mother, speaking to her in my mind, just pouring out my anger, my worries, my pain.

My dreams were a mess, chaotic. But I felt I was going on a journey in them, and I woke up feeling healed, if only a little bit. The sun was already on the mountain, and I made myself a cup of tea and sat by the window, thinking about the morning, how it makes things brighter, not so heavy and dark. Sometimes we just need to wait for morning.


There are signs of spring everywhere, budding leaves and white flowers, orange butterflies. I can get lost in beauty, the longer I stay in a spot in the forest, the more it comes into focus, the more I see, and the longer I want to stay, curled up on green moss.

I sat on the ground among light and tree shadows, having gone for a long walk, wanting to feel the earth in me, to get out of my head, into my body, my heart. The world is being filled with sound and music, after a long silent winter, and I saw those grey and white birds, that make me laugh, because they seem a bit confused, running around in circles on the road, back and forth, not sure what to do with themselves. I love them, and I’m so glad they’re back. The English name for it is apparently white wagtail. 

I wonder sometimes what it would be like to be a priestess, especially now since I’m writing a novel about one. What would it be like to carry the Goddess in my heart, to go about my day, doing my tasks in her honor?

In the evenings I’ve been standing by the window, drinking a cup of rose tea, looking at the sun setting behind the mountains, above the lake. Everything glitters and the sky is bright, clouds tinted with gold, and I breathe deeply and thank the day for what it was, even if it was difficult. 

Do you feel the change of seasons where you are?

Prisms of Light

Yemaya. The white goddess of the sea

Yemaya. The white goddess of the sea

There are prisms of light in the trees today, drops of rain that fell at night, and now the sun sparkles through them, making me catch my breath, making me pause what I’m doing and lean a little closer, holding my cup of tea, sipping it slowly, drinking in rays of beauty.

I feel a well opening up inside of me, that I can drink from, that somehow is the Goddess, love everlasting. Sometimes when the day has waned a bit, and I’m getting tired, and I’m alone with myself, I get anxious, feeling there is something inside of me that I want to hide from. But my mind is too tired to hold onto words on screens or in books, and I grow restless, afraid of myself, and I reach for her. If only I could be with her always.

I’ve felt alone a lot in my life, and now I wonder if that void was formed inside of me so that I could fill it with her, her light, her love, so that I would search for the God and Goddess.  

I’ve had moments when all I felt was her presence, wrapping itself around me in love, in rose colored light, that made everything around me seem like rose and beauty, and the simplest of things spoke to me because she was in it. I remember staying at a friend’s place, and lying down on the bed, just staring at the fluttering curtains, the night deepening around me, and being lost in the simple beauty of the wind and dancing fabric, feeling so close to her that my heart swelled and almost hurt to the point of breaking.

It felt like a held a secret, a precious gem inside of me, that I needed to protect. But then it faded, the outside world seeping in, or rather it grew more important than her. I wanted to please people, make them like me, and I felt what they felt, and read them like an open book and I didn’t know how to shield myself, protect what was growing in my heart. But I’m learning still, how to walk with her, how to place at the center of my day, my life.

There is a quote from Jesus, from The Book of Thomas the Contender that touches me, makes me yearn for a place of strength and rest and truth.

And the savior answered, saying, “Blessed is the wise man who sought after the truth, and when he found it, he rested upon it forever and was unafraid of those who wanted to disturb him.”

My book – From Darkness to Light

Video on the Goddess 

Rain and Mist

Lady of the Lake - Alan Lee

Lady of the Lake – Alan Lee

I sat in the forest yesterday, kneeling on wet moss, seeing the rain come down over the trees. I looked for strength, placing my hands on the earth, looking up at the clouds. I reached into the sky, hands cupping light, praying to my Divine Father, feeling the Goddess circling me everywhere I looked.

I’m filled with doubts so often, losing faith, but the world is simpler in the forest, clear like the rain falling, like the streams meandering through the woods. I breathed deeply and sat for a long time, seeing the sun sink low on the horizon, feeling the shift in the air, the day falling into evening.

My husband and I went for a long walk around a mountain lake, last Sunday. I was tired, but as always nature has a way of seeping into my heart and bones, and I looked up to see clouds rolling in, mist floating over treetops, and everything felt dark and brooding, as though the world was waiting for rain and storm. I felt there were stories in the air, and I could feel them reaching for me, tugging me along, and I didn’t want to return to the car, not yet, not yet. As always the forest wrapped its magic around me, and I lost myself in it, would have stayed there if my husband didn’t have a hold of my hand. 

Where do you go when your spirit needs to breathe, when your heart needs healing? 

Priestess of the Goddess

Albert Lynch (1851–1912)

Albert Lynch (1851–1912)

I just created my new home page, which I’ve been putting off for some time now. It brought me some anxiety, feeling torn between staying small and playing with what my heart really wants. 

I was afraid to call myself a priestess of the Goddess, afraid of being too much, about what people might think. But it’s the role I want to have, the feeling I want to wake up with, a shift inside of me. Where the Goddess is at the center of my day, my life, and I worship her instead of myself. Follow her will instead of my own. And I feel this will bring me closer to myself, my true self, my heart.

It feels like an ancient path I walked long ago. One still in my heart and bones. Do you too remember?

Deep in my mind, I glimpse a white temple by water. And a fire always lit, lovingly tended in the name of Brigid.

It’s a path I’m learning to tread. A way of life that inspires me, makes me want to cry, in yearning for something old and beautiful made new. I want to walk with her, the Goddess, the rose, love.

My walk with her has for a long time been through grief, and now I feel something now emerging. I’m writing a new book about this, a story about a priestess finding her path, the Goddess and gifts buried inside.

I also made a board on Pinterest where I gather pictures to inspire me. I hope you like it. 

Earth Magic

Artist - Arthur Hughes

Artist – Arthur Hughes

I sat under a large pine tree, its branches hanging low, like a green veil around me, with drops of rain glittering in the gray light.


A bone white sky, a bone ache inside me. I look out on naked trees, a slate colored lake, and there’s nothing to distract myself from what I feel and think and am. A mirror into myself, this dead, silent world, of rain and drops on black branches. A dark beauty whispering to me, to let go and sleep with the earth. But the air is brimming with hope, with a promise of life returning, of the sun shining once again.


Deep in the night I felt the earth had entered into me, that I had deepened into a place inside myself, that before was walled up by thorns and old pain. I felt one with the Goddess, felt she had made me and was in my flesh and bones. That my heart was a rose slowly opening. That I was pushing through new doors deep inside, into dusty rooms, clearing out cobwebs, gazing out through dirt-streaked windows

Sometimes I feel my body is on fire from the inside, and I’m not sure what to do, though it’s a good kind of burning, like ice cracking open, thawing, giving away to the sun. But it hurts too. I often feel uncomfortable in my own skin, but the Goddess helps me, guides me. I look to her and find my strength, a sense of love, of rose, of sweet colored things. 

Just found this music. Do you like it? 






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