Showing posts with label the past. Show all posts
Showing posts with label the past. Show all posts

Friday, 31 January 2020

Day after KWT met puppy trauma.


half by KanchanMahon
Kanchan Mahon




Outside the Palace by KanchanCollage on DeviantArt
Kanchan Mahon
orient-lily by Romany Soup, via Flickr
kanchan Mahon
Richard Burlet — Galerie Got | MontrĂ©al
Copy right Richard Burlet
Carte Postale -- by Kanchan Mahon
Kanchan Mahon

Explore Romany Soup's photos on Flickr. Romany Soup has uploaded 1691 photos to Flickr.

Saturday, 23 February 2019

Beyond the break..

"Nothing ever plays out the way we think it will, this is why it’s so important to not be attached to specific
outcomes. Trust the unfolding."





















Copyright MB



Wednesday, 16 January 2019

Oh no she didn't

  • "If anyone has ever bullied, manipulated you or tried to steal your light, today is a magical day to reclaim your inner power and strength. Do a meditation where you go back in time, say no and stand up for yourself, this ends now. Soul retrieval is a powerful form of healing . When you carry pure light lower vibration people attack you because you mirror their unhealed wounds back to them. They project the unacknowledged and evaded darkness inside them, onto you. They make you the villain so they can be the victim. This tactic no longer works.This weekends Full Moon Lunar Eclipse in Leo is helping us break free from the past. Cycles that are long overdue for change are currently being transformed at an energetic level. This is why so many of us are experiencing exhaustion and old situations resurfacing"






Friday, 4 August 2017

Eggshells and permission


About morning pages..


Blank ended, I feel nothing, but the touch of a hand in statue pose; my life elsewhere,  the rim beyond the ceiling in the general direction of up. Statue froze in third person, still-fully held, so much against the will. The will should never be a frozen thing, it should be  a moving tableau of your own volition, where you speak safe and halt at will on your own  demand, your demand, your boundaries,  your right to walled-nonwalls. But I erect mine high, I am a boundary farmer, cultivating distance from contact with skin. He is too much, I lost my edges, that  centimeter space around my own periphery. He tore kin away from me, examining me stiff rigid, creating a split from  end to end. The blank formed memories, act as vital stuffing, the blanket between contact, and misery. Too much analysis, too many pondering eyes,  I retreat to escape. I split to survive. MB


https://www.crowdjustice.co.uk/case/chilcot/