Who is the woman in the mirror?
This morning it was a fierce woman
Standing in her power
Ready and willing to take on the world
On her terms.
Not just a survivor
But a thriver
A Phoenix Risen from the ashes
In all her glory
Staring right back at you.
The past hurt, pain and abuse
That had kept her playing small,
Lying all around her
In tatters,
Like dust upon the floor,
No longer attached to her,
No power in them.
Only the fierceness
Of the woman
In the mirror

🦁

Swaying in the soft gentle breeze,
succulent green leaves glisten and glow,
catching the sun's golden rays, filtering
through the coppiced canopy above,
reflecting off droplets from heaven;
Bringing the verdant vibrant woods to life.

There's many a story these woods could tell,
If only trees could talk;
Long in the night they'd stand and share,
of the songbird’s sweet call for loves lost,
the snowy owl's nocturnal adventures,
the *****’s screams of ecstasy, or pain.

And let us not forget, the forest fairies fair,
coming out to play on such a glorious morn.
Sunbathing atop a toadstool fly agaric,
Admiring the glistening golden spider's web,
Downing the nectar from a rain soaked leaf.
Washing dainty toes in the morning dew.

But don’t expect to see one.
For they are as timid as the fawn,
yet as brave as the lion.
As delicate as lace,
yet as strong as silk.
But they are there, rest assured.
Keeping the magic of the woods alive,  
protecting the spirits of the trees,
and allowing the secrets of the woods to live on,
For evermore

Those insidious beasts
Surreptitiously winding their tendrils
Through every orifice and vacuum,
Through every artery and vein,
Through every thought and word,
Till those two imposters
Guilt and shame
Are so embedded
One knows not where one begins
And the other ends

No matter what you are going through,
Good or bad,
Challenges or joy,
Remember,
Everything is temporary,
Non-permanent,
Transient,
So either enjoy the moment,
Or learn the lesson,
And move on.

As I sit on this cold bench
In nature,
Twilight rising,
Feeling the crisp biting air,
Smelling the dampness of the leaves,
Sensing and finding solace in the space all around me,
I am reminded of a similar November evening as a child,
Where I stayed out as long as possible on my own,
Imagining adventures,
Enjoying the moment,
And the assault on my senses,
Until too much dark had descended,
And mum called me in.

Only the smell of a bonfire is missing now,
And no one to call me back in.

Oh the seductiveness
Of that deep dark abyss
Keeps calling,
Saying my name,
Come hither,
You know you want it,
You know you love it.
NO!
I don’t love it
And I don’t want it.
I recognise it now for what it is.
My uncomfortable comfort zone.
It’s there to keep me playing small,
To hold me back,
To imprison me
With its sticky tentacles
Of negative thinking
And victim mentality.
Bit by bit,
Moment by moment,
Hour by hour,
Day by day,
I learn to do things differently,
To change a habit of a lifetime,
To feel joy,
To seek pleasure in what I do,
To see good in those around me,
Quite simply, to live.
But vigilance my friend,
For it will always be lurking in the shadows,
To catch you unawares.
When your mind starts to fog,
Loses clarity of thinking,
Your emotions start to boil over,
Stop. Pause. Breathe.
Move your body,
Dance to an upturn beat,
Sing choirs of angels,
Jump for joy.
Change the stagnant energy
To one of the highest vibration,
To one of love
For you
And all.

“I seem to have loved you in numberless forms, numberless times…
In life after life, in age after age, forever.
My spellbound heart has made and remade the necklace of songs,
That you take as a gift, wear round your neck in your many forms,
In life after life, in age after age, forever.

Whenever I hear old chronicles of love, its age-old pain,
Its ancient tale of being apart or together.
As I stare on and on into the past, in the end you emerge,
Clad in the light of a pole-star piercing the darkness of time:
You become an image of what is remembered forever.

You and I have floated here on the stream that brings from the fount.
At the heart of time, love of one for another.
We have played along side millions of lovers, shared in the same
Shy sweetness of meeting, the same distressful tears of farewell-
Old love but in shapes that renew and renew forever.

Today it is heaped at your feet, it has found its end in you
The love of all man’s days both past and forever:
Universal joy, universal sorrow, universal life.
The memories of all loves merging with this one love of ours –
And the songs of every poet past and forever.”

~Rabindranath Tagore