my whole body is alive

Yes my whole body is alive, and yours is too. But how much attention do you give to your body? How much attention do you give to the different aspects of your body? Do you take the time to explore your body? Do you pay attention to the messages, the moods, the feelings of your body? Do you feel into its dimensions, its energy, its awareness? Your body is ALIVE. Listen to it, tune into it. It is you, it is a loving tactile, feeling, sensing, knowing part of you. Without it, there is no you.

IMG_5531In every moment your body is evolving, revolving, moving in the deep grooves of rhythmic patterns.   in every moment it offers you the power to transform. Yes, because tuning into your body is transformational. In this world of mind as separate from body, in this world of mindlessness, we forget ourselves, we forget to look within, and forge the relationships with our selves, our bodies and through this with each other. But we can at any time tune into the mindfulness of our body. And when we do we open ourselves to our inherent creativity. Yes your body is alive with creativity.

And creativity is embodied in the body’s myriad cycles of  birth, growth, flourishing, and releasing, dying, death and spiraling into birth again. Your body is replenishing itself continuously, gifting you with its remarkable and resplendent gifts of  movement, of taste, of touch, of hearing, of loving, of feeling, of sensing, of voicing, of sounding, of birthing, of dying, of BECOMING and BEING.   leaf

Your body is alive. Replenish yourself by taking a moment to ground and centre, and focus your attention on your body. Choose a part of your body, your skin, your breath, your bones, your heart. It doesn’t matter where you go, just go, go within and sense the inherent life force manifesting in a myriad of ways…

Remember tuning into your body is a revolutionary act. And we need a revolution.

thanks to alice cummins for a weekends delight with Body Mind Centering.

Autumn Leaves

I am pondering the Autumn Equinox, this most beautiful season of balance, when we acknowledge both the abundance of the earth, and the nourishment of decay.  While writing I remembered saving some of Rosie Garlands words, which i have copied below. Autumn leaves are such a powerful and potent image of the beauty of decay.  One of the few ways our culture celebrates decay, and yet as Rosie points out, many of still fail to see the worth of leaves, or women.


Such poignant words which took me to all the women throughout history and today who are still not heard, and to the earth herself, for surely her story remains in fragments only. I also thought of Rosie Batty, the Australian of the Year, trying to make audible women’s voices, particularly the voices of women in violent homes.

I am saddened by the state of this world, but gladdened to know so many of us are calling the feminine back into our lives. We are saying yes to the Autumn Equinox, yes to the descent, yes to the creatrix, we are saying yes to the nourishment of the leaves, and the decay and the compost. By dancing in honour of the Autumn Equinox we are given a space to acknowledge the value of the descent phase of the life/death/life cycle. We are allowing our feelings of pain, rage, and sadness to arise in a non-judgmental way.  We do as Glenys Livingstone says,  “allow(ing) the grief, letting it wash over us, saying yes to it … and yet we may do so graciously, remembering the abundance received in every moment just by the fact of existence”.  We who know the power of decay who have a voice, a song, a dance, a drum, a poem must live this work. We must dance our dance, sing our songs, beat our drums so loudly and beautifully that those who have not yet found their own song/dance/drum can hear the call, and in hearing they can find a way home to their own creativity, to their participation in this dance of creation.

read Rosie’s words and let me know where it takes you…..

‘I thrust my hands into the cushion of leaf mould, sift it through my fingers. Each leaf is nourishment for the small beasts of the forests, who in turn feeds the greater beasts, who in turn feed men (sic) My head swims in contemplation of this marvellous chain of being.  Yet men stamp upon them kick them out of the way as if they are nothing. I wonder if we are not poorer for the loss of a single leaf each as lovely as the cast of wing of an angel.


I swoop up a heap and toss them into their air. They fall in damp patters full of the aroma of decay that is not dying but the promise of rebirth next spring. I hurl more and more …Each leaf is a woman, a million of us, tramped into dirt. We bud, we fruit and when we can bud no more, we serve no further purpose. After a brief harvest we are raked into heaps for burning. I see the face of the earth swept clear of our dappled light, our softness. A barren world scraped bare and dry, lacking the thick mulch of our abundance”

So in whatever way you can take the time to let the leaves fall, the buds and the rotting fruits. Let it all fall safely to the earth where the nourishment of decay can live on, and new growth will emerge in spring.

Many Blessings

Sarah xxx

Rosie Garland, Vixen, p. 403

Glenys Livingstone,