A Thousand Years

In only two weeks it will be one year.

One year.

A thousand years.

It feels the same to me.

Some people have said to me, “Wow, one year already . It’s gone so quickly!.”

And for those whose rich and busy lives have continued relatively unscathed, one year can fly by.

I remember when one year flew by.

When our brand new grandchild turned one. Where did the year go?

Living in a new home and suddenly it’s one year since moving in.

That first wedding anniversary.

One year since a son left home.

Staying with a friend overseas one year ago.

And yet one year can also be a thousand years.

They told me it gets easier. But they didn’t tell me it also get harder.

It’s true I don’t cry as much.

I talk to him unselfconsciously now and love imagining his responses.

I feel his presence more than ever and laugh at the synchronicities that ‘prove’ he is right here with us, his beloved family.

But it’s taken almost 365 days to get there and that’s 365 days without a hug from him. Without a cuddle, a joke, a disagreement, a cheeky raised eyebrow, a kiss.

I have probably felt every emotion imaginable.

I have probably cried two or three buckets of salty tears.

I have been overwhelmed with the compassion, caring and love from family and friends.

I have been incredulous at the silence from those that I had considered friends.

I have been touched by the thoughtful, sweet and simple ways people who I did not really know until now, have continued to connect with me almost on a daily basis.

I have been shocked by the comments from people that I thought would have known better. An example.

A person I had not seen for a few years walked up a few months ago and with a huge smile, called out, “How’s the single life treating you?” I kid you not. One of the few time in my life I was speechless.

Nearly three weeks ago I went to India. It was my 5th or 6th time but this time went with a friend.

I wanted to say ‘Kaddish” on the  Ganges for Oren and I wanted to create a ceremony that was meaningful to me.

I started last March collecting stones from all the places Oren had lived. From his birth place in Haifa and from the gardens of all the homes we shared together.

I crept into the garden in Lindfield and walked around the apartments in Randwick looking for the right stone. I wandered down to Tamarrama and to Woollahra and of course where our home is now and wrapped them in a napkin bought on our first trip to India so many, many years ago.

And as I read the Kaddish, the sacred prayer for the dead,  from a boat on The Mother Ganges, I dropped the stones into the water, planting forever the physical life of the love of my life, and slowly, very, very slowly I felt a year of sorrow start fall away, one ripple at a time, into the holy waters.

And a sense of joy, warm golden honey, the like of which I had not felt for a thousand years filled my heart.

In only two weeks it will be one year. Our children have carried the grief into every day, every hour, every minute. Our granddaughters have cried, and tried to understand the impossible to understand and yet stories of stars, and kookaburras, and water dragons and King Parrots that carry the energy of their darling Aba and Saba will continue to be told for another year and another and another and another.

Posted in Being Here and Now | 25 Comments

If Only, What If and Why

There are countless times we kick ourselves when we are down especially after someone or something has gone wrong in our lives.

Have you ever reprimanded a child only to find out that child actually was not the culprit? Perhaps you forgot an appointment after changing it twice to suit your schedule, or agreed to a radical hair cut only to denigrate yourself for being so  (choose your word) stupid, impulsive, hopeless, ridiculous, for doing such a thing.

 The same thing happens when someone we love dies. Someone very close like a mother, father, husband or wife. If only I had said I love her one more time. What if I had not missed that bus I might have got there in time. Why did she have to leave me before I told her the truth.

These scenarios are examples of kicking ourselves when we are down. Judging ourselves when we are already in pain.  What happens when we do this is rather than recognizing our human frailty through kindness and  compassion, we resort to punishing ourselves. It reminds me of a saying my mother repeated ad infinitum. Two wrongs don’t make a right.  We tumble into  a cesspool of self- judgment, self-criticism and even self-hatred. We ignite emotions such as anger, fear, resentment frustration and even shame and guilt. These negative emotions create stress in our bodies and our minds and when the level of that stress reaches a specific point our health can be affected.

Why is recrimination of self or other our natural go-to after something painful, tragic or shocking happens to us?

What to do? Strangely, trying to avoid these feeling does not work. However, to return to Connectedness and Harmony ( Level 2 of The 12 Levels of Being) we now have an opportunity to ask ourselves some important questions.

  1. Why am I so hard on myself? Who else was hard on me in my life? How did it feel? Do I want to become that person? If I don’t how can I begin to bring kindness back into my life.
  2. Do I know anyone who has never made a mistake? If someone did that to me would I tear into that person or would I try to understand what might be going on for him/her.
  3. What is the significance of all this? Is there a space in all this chaos to sit and breathe and allow what I had no choice in, to simply be.

We are not the sole orchestrators of our destiny.

We all have the power to ask ourselves those important questions and to listen to the answers through love and compassion for our self.

  Life chooses what Life chooses

We all have the ability to recognise, acknowledge, allow and accept what we are feeling without judgement and when we do, we inevitably bring ourselves albeit slowly and gently back to  balance, harmony and ultimately inner peace.

Posted in Being Here and Now | 5 Comments


Writing has always given me joy, solace and peace of mind. I started writing poetry at the age of 10 and still have those poems pressed into a blue album that has sat on my shelf for over half a century. And yet, the one time I need those things more than any other time I find I am slow to write them down. Words drip into my partly numbed brain and hover briefly around me, only to dissolve like those little clouds we drive through on a winding mountain road on a cold autumn morning. They burn up at first light. Some of them however, sear my skin, stab a poker in my heart and leave me shredded and raw. Those words of death and loss and finality scream at me inches from my face and make me shut my eyes and clench my toes and hold my breath and hold back, for just one more second please let me hold off the inevitable avalanche of grief that wants to consume me for hours and hours and hours. I hold on begging my body to be calm, to breathe slowly, explaining I just can’t go through another 6 hours of heaving and wailing and sobbing.

But I do.

There are words shoving their way into and over and on top of other words. Pushing them out of the way. Take me, take me. I’m the word you want. Write me. They come at me, not to me, jumbled and stuck together with dried old tears.  Glued to my heart, shards of memories that shatter into a violent, painful, aching moan.

Four months and I’m still waiting for him to come home. I want to write to him “Enough already. Come home. Just come home.”

Everything in our home is waiting. The freezer is filled with food he loves, waiting to be thawed and lovingly cooked. His chair, still slightly dented from the last time he sat looking down at his iPad writing words to friends, shopping lists, emails to our children. Words flowed from him through his fingers with such effortless ease.  Our bed is waiting. Pillows neatly placed every morning after a night of wrestling, throttling squeezing and piling them around me.  They pretend to be him and to be fair they do their best but they a hopeless.  I never tell them because I may need them to pretend again tomorrow but they know and I  know they are not him. I guess they are waiting too.

Those nights. Those dark salty demented nights are softened by the words I cannot write. I whisper, ‘Can you hear me? I’m here. Can you give me a little sign?”  The pitch blackness quivers and I feel a tingling in my head. “Are you here? Is that you?”  And I begin to share how it is and what I think and I imagine he is right here arm draped heavily around me as I talk and talk and remind him about the time we went skinny dipping at Hof Dado in Haifa and I laugh. “You only did it that once in all the years we were married. I laugh out loud and startle myself with the sound. And remember the time you were lifted high on a chair at our daughter’s wedding and you held on for dear life. Dear life. You are so fragile. So precious. So, fleeting. Somehow, I fall asleep and wake to a new day. Another day.  I take 4 deep breaths and will my feet to step into this day not knowing how am going to make it through.

But I do.

I miss him. But I also miss me. That passionate, positive, powerful woman who relished and cherished every day. That mother of five who was rarely tired and who could write and study and cook and drop off and pick up and dress up without blinking twice. Grief takes away twice and it is a journey only those of us who have bid a final farewell to a loved one, really understand. I listen with such intensity when those who have undergone what I have just begun, speak to me. I relish their stories of healing and the gentle dawning of their new lives. I thirstily drink in their every word of possibility, potential and promise.  I am overjoyed when one or two share their latest adventure and assure me they had a most wonderful time.

In the meantime, when I am asked how am I, I still take a few seconds to reconnect with my heart and scan my sense of self. I look within and then check the weather outside. Part of me is very thankful to be alive and to have the best family and dearest friends imaginable. The other part remembers how easily I once answered that question and I am struck by the realization that I am still waiting for her to come home too.



Posted in Being Here and Now, What Breaks Your Heart? | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 16 Comments

Beyond building bridges is Becoming the bridge


   When we look at any job or profession there is always the potential to build a  bridge.

The gardener. I love gardening. When my garden is in full bloom, as it is now, people pass by and if they notice the profusion of colour and soft fragrance they have crossed the bridge between getting somewhere and being in the here and now.

    The waiter. I have always felt that serving people in a cafe or restaurant is a sacred  profession. The waiter can transform an ordinary cup of coffee into the sweetest moment. Through a smile, remembering your name, a gentle comment on the weather or simply the warmth in which the order is taken that person has created a bridge from the ordinary to the extraordinary.

    The Grandpa. Yesterday my husband taught our 5 year old granddaughter how to sew on a button. A bridge was built. From not knowing how to do something to actually doing something new, created a strong new bridge between them and a bridge for our granddaughter to explore sewing again should she wish.

And yet all these bridges could not be possible unless the people who built them were themselves a bridge. How do we become a bridge?  A bridge between concrete and nature. Between sorrow and joy. Between hesitation and certainty. Between ignorance and knowledge.

   Being a Bridge is a heart to heart encounter.

I remember years ago I read a book called Mister God This is Anna. Anyone who knew me back then knew that book changed my life. I went out and bought 20 copies to share with everyone. Anna was a tiny five year old child who was found on roaming the streets of London by a man called Fynn.  Fynn took her home to his mother, and that choice changed his life forever. Anna loved God in a way that most children loved puppies. He was her friend and she chatted with Him all the time. She didn’t try to love God. It was simply the way she was. He was her friend and through that friendship she transformed every people she met. Her love of God was the most natural thing for her and it came from her heart. And as loving God was her authentic way of Being everyone one she met was touched.

When we are true to ourselves, fearlessly authentic, with a healthy resilience to failure, we engage our heart and when all that we say and do is connected to the heart of who we are,  we become the bridge.






Posted in Being Here and Now | 4 Comments

A Floating Utopia

We have been cruising on and off for the passed 5 years and every time we do I get so excited. Sure it’s fun to be going on a holiday and especially to be taken across the vast oceans to new and fascinating lands, but the excitement also comes from something far more profound and leaves me truly inspired.

Every cruise begins with the safety exercise. We are all given a station or a place to gather. It could be the main entertainment theatre or a bar or a restaurant. We meet and find somewhere to sit. We become one very large group of people all of whom have never been together before, who do not know each other, who look and sound different, and who originate from many different cultures, holding wide ranging and sometimes hugely opposing beliefs and values. And here we all are. Together. Some smiling, some not, most are filled with anticipation and some with relief that they actually made it, given all that they had to do to make this trip a reality.

And so we all learn what the ship’s horn sounds like and what 5 horn blasts mean. We all learn what to do and no matter who you are or where you came from or where you are situated on the ship, we hear the Captain talking to us and we become one community, for at least the length of the voyage.

One community living on a floating hotel that becomes our own little world.

I say world because our crew came from China, Philippines, Africa, India, Japan, Nigeria, Germany, USA, Canada, France, Australia and New Zealand and I’m sure I’ve missed a few. The passengers exceeded that and we met people from almost every country in Europe, Russia, Great Britain, Middle East, South America, North America and the USA. Not to mention a fair few from down under. We represent every continent in the world and many many countries. And here we all are. Living together.

 Holidays are a great opportunity to learn about different peoples lives but, we are still who we are, and if we look at our world, there are many hotspots represented on the ship. In all our interactions, conversations, debates and differing opinions of a couple of thousand people it seemed to me at least, that acceptance, appreciation, curiosity comes fairly naturally for nearly everyone. I can’t remember hearing a racial slur, a loud argument, or a rude word said to a passenger in all the years we have sailed. And yes, occasionally there maybe an upset or two but it never goes very far. I find that very curious. If a few thousand people we can live homogeneously in relatively close quarters, it certainly gives me hope for the future of our world.

The Crew hold the bar high. They lead the way and model politeness, cheerfulness and kindness. Yes, I know it’s also their job but the effect ripples though this tiny floating utopia. Their morning smile evokes our morning smile. They live and work on board and their intention is to serve, respect and certainly do no harm to anyone. Their role is to  make every person they meet feel respected, seen and heard.  Their aim is to leave each person feeling they matter. And that kind of behaviour is contagious. How easy it can be to emulate that way of being in our everyday lives.

We had many conversations with people who hold varying views on religion, politics and spirituality and yet, I marvelled at each person’s trust in sharing their thoughts and opinions without fear of conflict or dissension. The mass consciousness of the ship is one of adventure, exploration and fun. You feel it. Every day presents opportunities to meet, share, laugh and grow together through our passion for seeing and appreciating our world.

I know, if you are reading this some of you will say, well everyone is in a good mood when they are on holiday and in a way you are right ,however we take ourselves on every journey in life, we take our problems, our neuroses, our fears and our judgments and yet for a short time we seem to be able to put that to the side. We have Choice. We either seek out further connection those with whom we have conversed or we wish them well and choose to agree to disagree and allow each one to be who they are. There is an energy on ships that regardless of how many people on that ship, you seem to bump into the same people over and over again. And it so doing friendships are made. Some of them long lasting.

What a wonderful way to live. Allowing friendships to form organically and challenges to come and go like the rise and fall of the tide.

The waiters in one of the large restaurants knew our names from day two. Every morning we were welcomed by name. Every morning we watched as a few hundred people besides ourselves were welcomed by name. How do they do that? They do it because they are present. Fully and completely present. Week after week passengers disembark and new passengers arrive and week after week the crew welcomes you by name.

 Practicing being present means listening, dismissing distractions, focusing on what is  in front of you right now. Every trip I take gives me hope for humanity. Every trip leaves me inspired to embody the values of the crew so that I too can leave this floating blue planet a little better than when I first embarked on my journey.

Posted in Being Here and Now, Everyday Miracles | 9 Comments

Listening to the Heart in Spirit Island

Travelling across Canada with Oren is one of the great trips of our lives. I have taken hundreds of photos from trains, coaches, on foot, walking through canyons and across bridges.

But today my heart whispered not here. We travelled past medicine mountain out of Jasper and past Medicine lake until we reached a place called Maligne Lake which is in Jasper National Park in Alberta Canada.

There we boarded a boat and travelled 40  minutes to a sacred site for  the First Nation people called Spirit Island. It is actually a peninsular. The island is a spiritual place for the Stoney Nakoda First Nation, who believe mountains are physical representations of their ancestors. The fact that Spirit Island is surrounded on three sides by the same mountain range is very rare and makes it particularly significant to the Stoney.

There, many years ago the First nation people would have spiritual ceremonies until the white people stopped them. The Stoney Nakoda First Nation people now live on a huge reserve, and thankfully have begun to return to Spirit Island to reconnect to their original cultural traditions. No one else is allowed to actually walk through the island. Only on the tiny board walk made for visitors.

Stepping onto the Island I had a sense of great peace and yet a heaviness in my heart. I sat down in a quiet spot to connect to my heart.

According to some accounts of First Nations mythology, Spirit Island gets its name from two young lovers from feuding tribes who used to meet secretly on the island. However, when the young woman eventually confessed her forbidden affair to her father, one of the tribes’ chiefs, he banned her from ever returning to the island. Heartbroken, her lover continued to return to Spirit Island throughout his life, hoping to see his beautiful lover again. But she never came and he eventually died on the island, where his spirit still resides.

Did I feel the spirit of this heartbroken lover? Did I feel the longing of the First nations to return to dance and pray and make ceremony on this, their land again? I don’t know, but what I did feel was the sacredness of this space and the whisper from the mountains asking me not to take a photo. To simply Be in the energy of Spirit island.

When we got back on the boat I asked Oren whether he took a photo, because it is on Jasper’s list of most photographed spots and he turned to me and said no. He didn’t feel it the right thing to do.





Posted in Being Here and Now | 4 Comments

How Can Death Enhance Our Life?

Last month I wrote a piece about Grief.  This month I want to ask you this question. How can death enhance our life above and beyond anything else?

Five weeks ago my husband had a stroke. Although there is still internal healing taking place, the external ramifications of the stroke are negligible. He looks, walks, talks and acts exactly as he always has. But nothing is the same. And it never will be. Because death knocked on our door and whispered softly, “I’m here. It’s not time to touch you yet, but you just keep me in mind. Remember, life is enriched and enhanced and made all the more precious and wonderful when you remember, I am not too far away.”

Many years ago the sister of a good friend of mine was killed in a car accident. Angie came from a large and very close family and was on the verge of opening her own business. She was a beautiful, joyful and passionate 21 year old with an infectious laugh and a smile that lit up any room she entered.

At her funeral her mother stood up to speak and we, who sat in the church braced ourselves for the inevitable sobs from a mother newly bereft of her child.  She stood there looking out at all of us in absolute silence and we waited. She took two or three deep breaths and then began to smile. And then she spoke.

“We have been so blessed. Angie lived her 21 years doing exactly what she wanted. She was fearless. She took risks and lived life to the fullest. She brought us so much joy, so much laughter, so much happiness. There is no room in this church or anywhere else for mourning Angie’s death.  Her life was a constant celebration and that is how we will honour her.

Everyone of us will grieve in our own unique way. The loss of a job, a friend, a child, an opportunity. “Grief is the midwife of your capacity to be immensely grateful for being born,” writes Stephen Jenkinson,in his book Die Wise: A Manifesto for Sanity and Soul. He says also, ““Grief is not a feeling, it is a capacity. It is not something that disables you, we are not on the receiving end of grief we are on the practising end of grief.”

So what does that mean, ‘the practicing end of grief?

   If we pretend it wont touch us or our loved ones then in truth we cannot say we are truly living. We need to consciously create or at the very least become aware of a resonance of death that softly hums below our every thought and deed and action; a drone that harmonises with the melody of  human joy. The two are intrinsically linked.


Carlo Castaneda wrote “Death is our eternal companion. It is always to our left, an arm’s length behind us. Death is the only wise adviser that a warrior has. Whenever he feels that everything is going wrong and he’s about to be annihilated, he can turn to his death and ask if that is so. His death will tell him that he is wrong, that nothing really matters outside its touch. His death will tell him, I haven’t touched you yet.’

It is through this awareness that we can be free. Free to speak openly. Free to make our own mistakes. Free to lift our eyes and our spirits up and up and up and be who we are.

“You shall be free indeed when your days are not without a care nor your nights without a want and a grief, But rather when these things girdle your life and yet you rise above them naked and unbound. Kahlil Gibran

Rising above worry, anxiety, grief and pain requires us to choose. When we claim the power to choose, we connect to the heart of who we are and in that moment we are free. Nothing else matters beyond being engaged to our heart. Through the heart we connect to our soul and through the soul we connect to Unconditional Love.

One of the things I have learned and now carry with me since my husband had a stroke is a strong knowing that the future is not guaranteed. In other words not putting off what might be enjoyed or completed today is far wiser than saying. “Ill do it later.”

We all know this of course, but living it day to day is the gift of death tapping my shoulder  and reminding me it is just an arms length away.  Yesterday I was sitting on my old rocking chair looking out of the lace curtains of our little cottage in the mountains sipping a cup of herbal tea. I was watching the sky slowly turn pink as  night began to fall and was relishing the quiet when my husband decided it was a good time to change the kick-boards in our kitchen. The banging and the scraping and the hammering began and as I sat there I had a flash of what it might be like to sit here in silence had Death actually tapped him on the shoulder those five weeks ago. And at that moment everything changed.

Instead of relishing the silence I sank joyfully, thankfully into the clatter in the kitchen. I closed my eyes and imagined him on his knees pulling and pushing, and banging and scraping  those recalcitrant kick-boards  and I felt happy, free and completely and utterly at peace

* (a warrior is a person who lives impeccably)



















Posted in Being Here and Now, What Breaks Your Heart? | 3 Comments


I watched my friend stand beside her son yesterday. Tears dragging the inexpressible grief down her drawn face as she bent her head, too heavy with loss to hold up without the chest of her beloved of over half a century. I watched her shake with sobs so deep her very soul wailed in wrenching silence. I watched her let friends say what they felt and nod in appreciation for their love, and yet, surrounded by the love and warmth of family and friends, I watched my friend stand alone beside the body of the one she had carried under her heart and birthed and nurtured and taught and consoled and comforted.

I saw my friend stand beside his son yesterday. Tall yet small, straight yet stooped. Unshaven, red eyed gracious to a fault. I saw him pray and say the ancient words,

Yit’gadal v’yit’kadash sh’mei raba…

May His Great Name grow exalted and sanctified….

“I must be philosophical,” he told me the night before he read the words that draped the crowded room of stories of a man who loved life and living and growing and giving. A man who was passionate about learning and teaching and sharing his heart and his mind. A man who could still laugh when illness stole all his remaining strength.  A man who carried his father’s name and who gave this name to his beautiful daughter. A man who took flight before his parents and yet remains so present, so real, so here and so now.

I saw myself standing beside my friends yesterday. Not able to find the words that offered enough comfort.  For comfort only comes when the time is right. I stood beside my friends yesterday. Their beloved son passed from this physical world, from life to life. And even though death is only the end of the shell from where we shine our light for a few short moments and even though I know he could still see all that was happening and hear all that was being said and feel all the love that was overflowing from hearts and minds and all the spaces in between those who have ever known him, the grief, the painful, aching, dreadful grief, drenched in tears and memories and emptiness, envelopes and surrounds and hugs us close.

Posted in Being Here and Now | 4 Comments

When We Become Complacent …..

Traditions intersect tomorrow as Jews and Christians the world over, celebrate their traditions. Many Christians will commemorate the Last Supper and the crucifixion of the Master Teacher Jesus. And many Jewish people will also come together to begin the 8-day festival of Passover.

Over the last 2000 years much has been written about this time in history. The Gospels describe in varying ways the series of events that happened so long ago and countless people from religious, theological and historical backgrounds have explored and written about those final 24 hours of Jesus Christ.

What really happened, for the purpose of this piece of writing at least, is less important than the significance of what happened.

During the Seder, the first night of the Passover, Jews read from a book called the Haggada. We sing a song which has these words:

 Avadim hayinu hayinu. Ata b’nei chorin.

Once we were slaves in Egypt. Now, we are free.

Every year we tell the story of the Exodus, as if we were once slaves and now we are free. We are reminded that freedom is something we cannot take for granted, and that it is something that too-often comes with a price. We remember the sacrifices that have been made to keep us free, and the work that is still needed to bring freedom to those who still fight for it. Every Passover holds the energy of an ending and a beginning. It is the story of liberation from Pharaoh’s oppression. We eat food that is symbolic of oppression and other food symbolic of freedom.

The Master Teacher Jesus, surrounded by his beloved disciples during that Last Supper,  must have realized that although he would no longer be able to physically teach, his Teachings were now in the hands of those he most loved and trusted. The stories of Love and compassion would become available to millions of people throughout the world.  These Teachings when embraced and lived fully would become a pathway to inner liberation. They remind us that once we were slaves and now we are free. Those who understand and practice the power of lovingkindness, compassion, benevolence and truth become free, regardless of their physical situation.

Although I was born a Jew and continue to follow the ancient traditions of Judaism I choose to explore the beauty and interconnections of all beliefs. For example, I love crystals and have used them in healing, manifestation, meditation and clearing of energy for many years.

Recently, however, I was reminded that I had become complacent, neglecting to do what I knew was important with these crystals. For years I had put water and crystals  under the full moon to energise and clear the energy. I even put jewellery that I’ve acquired over time outside under the full moon. Lately I simply didn’t bother to do it.

When we know what to do and we don’t do it, we are dismissing our inner truth, and ignoring our own guidance and wisdom. It may take time to honour our knowing and put that knowing  into action, but by becoming complacent we drain the energy from our inner wisdom and limit our freedom.

This is the time, regardless of your religious or philosophical persuasion, to recommit to being the best you can every day.

Practice is the key word.

The full moon is on March 31. Whatever is your tradition I wish you joy and happiness as you contemplate on the meaning of freedom on every level of your Being.

May we all know Global freedom in our lifetime.



Posted in Being Here and Now | 2 Comments

Some Stories are Worth Repeating

In  November 2005 I went to Assisi alone. It was a long awaited pilgrimage. I wanted to connect to the energy of the beloved Saint Francis of Assisi but I also knew, as with all pilgrimages, the very thing you think you are going for is not always the thing you discover where you are there. Here is a repeat of that story. Some stories are worth repeating.

Driving towards Assisi in northern Italy, I noticed something red growing out of a bed of weeds. I grabbed my camera and clicked away. Some time later I scrolled through my camera and realised it was a rose. A double header. One that had already bloomed anda bud with the potential to boom.



The rose is one of those plants that no matter how many weeds are about the place it will always bloom. Did you know the colour Rose is the colour of Unconditional Love? The Channel and well known Teacher Helen Barton, created even a page on her website where people can send pink bubbles to anyone that who might be unwell or needing love. As I looked at the image I took I was reminded of someone very important to me..

Her name was Rosa, Rosa Parks. Recently she died and thousands gathered to farewell this 92 year old civil rights matriarch. A quiet unassuming, modest woman with great courage who lived in Montgomery, Alabama in 1955 and who, one December evening, left work and boarded a bus for home. The bus became crowded, and Rosa, a black woman, was ordered to give up her seat to a white passenger. She chose to remain seated and that silent, simple decision eventually led to the disintegration of institutionalised segregation in the South, ushering in a new era of the civil rights movement. Just one individual can change the world, even without uttering one word. It is not the grand and showy actions that necessarily change us and our world. Indeed our very purpose for living could be brought down to one small act like the refusal to stand up at the right time and the courage to know when that right time may be.

And that leads me to this.


I know the word ‘deservability’ is not in the Dictionary. I made it up. It is however, a word that fascinates me.

“ She deserves it…”

“I didn’t deserve that.”

“He got what he deserves.”

“I need to prove I really deserve this.”

Sound familiar? Deservabilty comes from our belief that we earn good points and bad points according to how, good, kind, thoughtful, intelligent, wise, appreciative, appropriate, funny, or clever we are. The list goes on of course.

Deservabilty also comes from the belief that if we behave or act in a certain way we can in some way control the events in our lives. Although this is right to a degree it is never really in our control. Jean and Graham work for two different companies. Jean’s friends got together and gave Jean a holiday for her 50th birthday. Jean had been a loyal and devoted worker for 20 years. She has three children but rarely ever took a day off in all that time. Graham was a single dad and had also put in 20 years of loyal service. He did not receive a gift from his work colleagues on his 20th anniversary.  Does one deserve a holiday more than the other? Of course not and yet, we tend to judge ourselves and others when something happens that we feel is  deserved’ or not deserved.

Nothing is deserved or un-deserved in life. To believe this is to be seduced into the illusion that what we see is the whole story. Rather than believing what we think we see how much more powerful  to look for the significance.

To believe in deservability denies the magic and spontaneity that is intrinsic in all of life. Out of chaos comes calm, out of conflict comes connection, out of illness comes healing, out of pain comes wisdom and out of fear comes Love. What happens, happens. The issue in life is not whether we deserve  so called ‘good’ or ‘bad; things. We will always have ups and downs. The real issue is how we address them. What choices can we make that can turn a tragedy into a triumph and therefore create a shift in global consciousness for the highest good of all?

What choice can we make now that inspires us to  stand in our truth, the Truth of our Being, especially when we appear to be surrounded by a field of weeds.


Posted in Being Here and Now | Leave a comment

Who do You want to Be … when you grow up?

Do you have a Calling?

Many of us remember being asked, “What do you want to be when you grow up?”  We gave answers according to our own dreams, our parent’s dreams, our teachers ‘dreams and sometimes even our friends’ dreams. Some of us didn’t give an answer at all. But there comes a time when we ask ourselves, “What do I want to do?” “Who do I want to be?”

My father was still very young when he decided to be a doctor.

Some people might say that is a Calling. Others think of it as a passion. I believe in my father’s case he just wanted to be someone he could respect. Medicine was his road map.

 What would you say is someone asked you “How did you arrive at where you are?”

I know most of us could share a few landmarks that guided us in one direction or another but I as far as I’m concerned I ‘m still in the process.

I think a far better question might be, “Do you love what you are doing right now?”

I recently read that 80 % of Americans do not like the work they are doing. I couldn’t find a comparative study for Australians, but I can only imagine it’s more or less the same.

We are taught that we have to do something, learn something, define who we are. That unless we earn good money, pass exams, grow our businesses, we are not succeeding.

 Rather than work being a necessary evil, is it possible to see our work as an opportunity to make a meaningful contribution to our community, our town, city or even the world? I have heard people, (committed, spiritual people) say that unless you follow your Calling when you hear it, it may not happen again. Goodness.  We do make up some scary stories.

I think our Calling is that sense of alignment between who I am and what I do. And maybe, just maybe it changes as life changes. We look at ‘career’ as something we spend the next 30 years or 40 years practising but perhaps our career is simply an opportunity to find our voice and practise speaking up about things that matter to us.

 I believe our Calling, can occur a number of times throughout our life. In a religious sense a Calling is Spirit calling us to Itself so decisively that everything we are, everything we do, and everything we have, is invested with a  devotion, dynamism, and direction lived out as a response to this holy summons and service.

And for some it may well be just that.

However, and with every definition there is always an ‘however’, a Calling  may be a strong impulse calling us to an action. It may be our heart telling us the time has come to move forward, to turn a page or to begin a new story. A Calling can come to us at 18 or 81. And when we feel this impulse, this ache, this surge of possibility, we are given time to feel into it, to think about it, to wonder about it, to choose how and even if we want to go ahead. There is no punishment. There is no reward. There is only an outcome. If you act on the Calling, something will happen. And if you don’t, something else will happen. The key to this is simple. Every choice has two parts. We choose out of Love or we choose out of Fear. And the only question we need to ask ourselves is how am I choosing to answer the Call?

 As we are living longer lives than our fathers and grandfathers, it is very possible that we will have a few careers in our life time. We might hear that little voice calling us to go back and re-study something we love. Or we might turn around to our boss who has just given us a huge raise, reach out to shake his hand and place our resignation in it rather than taking the check. After years of study three of our five children discovered the degree they walked away with is not the work they want to do. So they have and will continue to dive deep and look into their hearts, and ask what is it that would bring them joy.

If joy and satisfaction are missing in our lives, there is no way we can ever feel fulfilled.

There’s an old saying that I love. If you ever want to make God laugh, tell him your plans.

 I thought I knew what my life might look like once I moved into our home 18 months ago.  I had reached my mid 60’s and looking after our two gorgeous grand daughters once a week was so much fun. Then there was gardening and reading and painting that filled my days, not to mention cooking for family and friends. The occasional trip rounded off a perfect ‘retirement’. However, (there it is again) I just couldn’t ignore a little voice that kept telling me there is more to teach, more to share,  more fun to be enjoyed. There is more than this.

As much as I love my family, my home, my garden and my adventures, teaching is also who I am.         `

Having said all that, I am so excited to announce I have created a new program that fills my heart with joy.

I would like to invite you to join me for the The 4P Living Program. This living program is a process that is simple to access at any time, and enables us to understand, move through and overcome the many challenging situations that naturally occur in all our lives. That being said I also call this program The 4P Process.

It commences on February 24.  It is a three month program that  combines The 12 Levels of Being with the themes in our lives that create and destroy our happiness and joy.

Registration can be made here.  I look forward to welcoming you as we discover together The 4P Process

Please feel free to contact me for further information.






Posted in Being Here and Now, The 12 Levels of Being | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Smile and the World Smiles With You….

Recently I was waiting in a line waiting to go to the “Ladies” and the person in front of me started to sing. She was not giving us a concert or trying to show her fine voice. She just started to sing. It wasn’t a song I had ever heard before in fact it had no words, but the sound was sweet and the result was that all of us waiting for a free cubicle, simply smiled. And we smiled at each other. Strangers connected because we were sharing something unusual and lovely.

My friend Helen also sings whilst she’s waiting for her online meetings to commence. I love that. I get on the phone, call the number, press the pin code and then I hear this sweet voice singing on the other end.  Her singing always makes me feel light and happy. I smile even before I say hullo.

Children sing all the time.  Especially the little ones. They sing to themselves and they sing with friends. They never think whether they sing well or not, they just sing. It’s the same as laughing. Children laugh spontaneously every day.

It is said that children laugh far more often than adults. Some say at least one hundred times more a day. The sound of children’s laughter brings so much joy.  We become rather strange and silly and do all sorts of creative and wonderful things to entice more smiles, giggles and laughter from babies and children. We raise the pitch of our voice, along with height of our eye brows and make funny faces, peculiar sounds, we whoop and ah and oooh  in the hope that we will be rewarded with a smile or a chuckle.

This has been a challenging year for many of us and there were times I neither sang nor smiled. So a few months ago I gave myself a challenge.

I challenged myself to smile at every person I passed for whole one day. Sounds easy, but its not. I started out smiling at the person who parked beside me in the car park, and she smiled back.  Then I smiled at a woman carrying a baby and pushing a trolley. She didn’t respond but as I was not doing this to a make people smile at me. Then I smiled at the butcher handing out cooked sausages and the child standing beside his mother buying a piece of fish. And  I just kept on going. A man with tattoos down both arm walked passed I nodded out a smile. By now was feeling pretty amazing. I had a secret. This smiling was shifting my energy. I smiled at the person ahead of me in the line to pay for our groceries and as soon as I smiled she began chatting and casually we began to share a story or two until we went our ways but I felt light and full of joy.  The simple act of smiling at everyone for one day is enlightening.

An enlightening experience does not mean we we are suddenly enlightened. It means that every time we sing, smile, or just kick up our heels we lift our own energy and become lighter. We enlighten ourselves and in doing that we lift the energy of those around us.

So simple. So powerful.

I don’t make New Years resolutions very often but I am called to make one for next year. I commit to singing more often. Allowing my voice to lift my spirits. I have begun to sing to my grandchildren. Songs I make up on the spot

Its time, time, time to have your lunch,

Yummy yummy for my tummy

Lunch, lunch, lunch.

Tomato and cucumber, sandwich and egg

waiting on your plate

not smooshy on your leg.

Hurry hurry hurry

eat your lunch before it’s just too late.

They laugh. I laugh and we continue to be playful all day.

And , number 2, I commit to creating a “smile at everyone day’ a few times week.

Who knows. We may en-lighten ourselves in the process.

As the year draws to a close I have a strong sense that 2018 will be a wonderful year. The number 18 in Hebrew means Life and 1 plus 8 is nine. Ending  of a cycle and creative beginnings. However, 2018 is an 11 year and so it will be a year of wisdom, greater acceptance and creativity.

A Brand New Program for 2018

I am thrilled to be offering a new program called The 4P Process which takes us to a whole new level. This program is for those who have either never explored The 12 Levels of Being as well as those who have attended past workshops and are now curious and ready to take a leap into what is now possible.

This program offers us a process that is simple enough to access at any time that will enable us to overcome and move through situations that are challenging in life.

I will be sharing more about The 4P Process is future newsletters. I warmly invite you join me in taking your knowledge and experience to an entirely new level of understanding. through using this Program to unlock resistance, uncertainty, blockages and stagnation in our lives. It is time to shine our light as we have never shone before.

Please contact me for further information regarding The 4P Process.

Saturday, February 24 and Sunday, February 25.

Venue in North Sydney.

Wishing you a very happy, healthy, peaceful, passionate and prosperous 2018.







Posted in Being Here and Now | 5 Comments

Poles Apart- or are we?

There is a question I sometimes ask myself. I don’t like the question. More to the point I don’t like answering it. Inevitably my answer always begins with a confident “no”, but then it morphs into a ‘maybe’ and usually ends up with a resounding “damn it! yes.”

I ask myself this questions because it keeps me alert. It shakes me up at times when I could just as easily ignore a passing thought.

I have been faced with many situations in my life where I have cringed and shuddered, winced and squirmed during casual or fervent conversations. Conversations where my husband and I are both present, our own points of view sometimes poles apart. I am often confronted by a difference of opinion, a radical statement, a polarized position or a racial slur which leaves me feeling horribly uncomfortable, quietly outraged and occasionally alienated.

How can two people, married for over 37 years have friends who have diametrically opposing opinions to one or both of us. Even one of our children recently asked us how can we be friends with people who are so different from us.

So the question. (Big intake of breath.) Do I judge others who are different from myself? Am I judgmental?

I want to say I am tolerant, accepting, understanding and open. I want to say that no matter what people believe, or say, I have the capacity to hold space for them and their differences. The truth is there are times I genuinely struggle to sit with people who judge other people, races or cultures, which clearly means, I am judging too.

My husband and I grew up in very different circumstances. We were born in completely different countries and experienced vastly different childhoods. Our parents spoke different languages. His parents left their countries of birth to save their lives and mine left their countries of birth to build their lives. He slept on a bed squeezed into a little closed veranda and I slept in a double room with my sister surrounded by ballerina wallpaper.

At thirteen a boy I knew broke his neck diving into the surf at Bondi Beach in Sydney. I made a bargain with God. If he didn’t die, I would marry him.  I was romantic and idealistic.

At thirteen, my present husband would conspire with friends to sneak into glamorous venues where bar mitzvahs, weddings and fancy parties were taking place.  One boy brought clean trousers, another a clean shirt and one of them would be chosen to sneak into the venue from the back door or climb a fence and fill his pockets with delicious goodies which he brought back to his waiting friends. He was opportunistic and street wise.

At fourteen I listened to my father start his car every morning and drive to the hospital to do his hospital rounds. At fourteen my husband listened to the ambulance arrive at his home to take his father to hospital, never to return home.

At eighteen I became engaged to the boy who broke his neck and at the same time my present husband at eighteen, joined the army. Whilst I was learning how to lift a paralyzed man into a car, he was learning how to shoot a gun and defend his countrymen. Whilst I was walking down the aisle at twenty, he was dodging bullets and fighting a war in Israel. When every friend I had ever known deserted me, he was surrounded by friends whose loyalty was utterly unshakable.  We grew up in very different circumstances. We developed different perceptions, different attitudes, different beliefs and even different values.

I grew up in a country that has not known war since I was born. Where people from every continent on earth, live in relative peace. He grew up in a country that has barely known a day without war.

Recently one of our children told me he does not have time for people who criticize and put his ideas down. He wants to be with like minded people and feel supported by his community. I get that. We all want to be with people who think the way we do. We all want to feel seen and heard and understood. And yet unless we avail ourselves to challenge and to enquiry, how can we expand our sense self. Unless we put ourselves in situations where our concepts of right and wrong, and fact and fiction are challenged, how can we courageously stand in the truth of who we are. It expands our hearts and washes clean our souls to allow curiosity and wonder to replace dis-ease and distaste around people radically different to ourselves.

I look across the table where another couple sit. Friends by virtue of the amount of time we have known them. Her voice is loud, and her right-wing opinions, sprinkled with violent solutions to a well worn world issue ring out in the restaurant. I force myself not to look at the other tables to see who hears her declare, “Get rid of the lot of them.”

I feel ill, angry, embarrassed and I silently judge her as a racist, bigoted uneducated idiot. I’m furious with her but especially with myself for being in this situation. Why am I even here… with her.

I turn to my husband and my eyes plead with him to leave. For a moment I don’t ever wan to sit with her again. For a moment I just… want to get rid of her.

And then it hits me that there is actually no difference between her and me. If I can’t bare to be with someone whose ideas and opinions are radically different from my own then I am no better than her. If I sit here in judgment of her judgment, what is the difference between us?

We like to believe that when we connect to like minded people and talk about good relationships, progressive ideas, philanthropic endeavors, real change takes place. And often it does. But that can never be the whole story.

It is in the space between our differences in which true healing takes place. It is in vastness of our imagination where, if we dive deep enough we might be able to touch a modicum of understanding for the reason people think, speak and believe the way they do.  In the words of Baruch Spinoza, “I have made a ceaseless effort not to ridicule, not to bewail, not to scorn human actions, but to understand them.”

Understanding does not mean condoning. There are clearly lines crossed through fear, fear that leads to hatred. There are clearly lines crossed where love and devotion has turned into fanaticism and militarism. Where vision has turned into blind faith.

However, if we can sit in wonder and curiosity that this person, with whom we share our home, our town, our city, our country, indeed our planet, is not wrong, is not bad, is not even so different, but rather is a reflection of all we have not yet come to understand, love or appreciate about ourselves, then we can begin to answer the question, “Am I judgmental?”  it a very different way.

Posted in Being Here and Now | 5 Comments

Love, Love, Love


The Wisdom of the Lion. Part 4

What is Wisdom? It is the integration of Knowledge with Experience. Who is the Lion? It is Me. It is You.

Recently I was working with a couple and he was saying that his wife might have stopped loving him. This led us into a conversation about Love. Love is often described as an emotion. Many of us think if we can fall into love then we can fall out of love.

We imagine that Love can be turned off or turned on, increased or decreased depending on the circumstances. That kind of love is Conditional Love. It is love that is based on reason.

I love her because she is so kind and caring.

I love him because he listens to me and makes me laugh.

Nothing wrong with that unless of course she believes something about her husband, and then tells him off for being selfish, cruel or unfair and slams the door and doesn’t come home for a few days. Not so kind after all.

Or he has had a difficult day just wants to come home and put his feet up but she has also had a challenging day and all she wants is to tells him in every detail how awful some people are, and  how angry and hurt she is and, and, and…. until he jumps up, yells at her to give him a break and can’t she just be quiet for a while and slams the door on his way to sit in the car for an hour or two. Not so funny after all.

So when love is based on reason it becomes conditional and when those conditions change so too can the love we once felt so strongly. When love depends on a belief it becomes limited and therefore conditional. We think we know someone until something happens and we realize what we believe is just not true.

“You shouldn’t have to even ask me that.”  It becomes a problem when we believe that love automatically give a lover the ability to intuit what the other person wants or needs.

“I never imagined he would talk to me like that.”  It becomes a problem when we believe that people in love always speak and behave kindly and respectfully to each.

“You will go to hell if you don’t follow God’s rules.” When we are taught to believe something out of fear the fullness of Love is always limited.

Some of us may say, “So what. I know what I believe and I don’t care if it’s conditional.” However, judgment based on a belief, on a thought, or on the appearance of an event limits the quality of Love.

Emotional Love, when it happens feels lovely, but it is transient and temporary and can change with the passing of time. Conditional love often feels wonderful whilst it is happening, because it fulfils us in ways we are not fulfilling ourselves. When we ‘fall in love with someone’ we see them through those proverbial rose coloured glasses. We love the way they see our beauty and our strengths and melt at the way they look into our eyes and hold our body (no matter the size or shape) close and tenderly. Whether is it a physical attraction, their intellectual acumen, or bright bubbly personality the one irrevocable thing conditional love forgets is that, everything changes.

Unconditional Love exists in each of us. It is Love without reason. Love that comes from our soul and spirit and cannot be extinguished when something unforeseen or bad happens. When we experience Unconditional Love it is like we are bathed in warm light that enters every cell in our body and imbues us with a sense of well-being and peace. More than that it fills us with grace. Unconditional Love is the essential nature of each of us but it needs to be practiced to be present at all times. We can so easily relax into reason and condition ourselves to believe something that limits love.

So how do we practice Unconditional Love?

For me it begins by recognizing where in my body is Love. I go to the area of the heart, not the physical heart but the spiritual heart often called the heart chakrah, and that’s where I begin to connect to that eternal flame that radiates through me and around me and permeates everything I say and do. Unconditional Love is not an emotion at all.

It is a State of Being.

And when I fall into that State of Love and I am with another who also connects to that State of Love we fall into Love together. We don’t fall into love with each other we fall into the vast ocean of Love together. It is in that State of Being where all thought ceases and we become One.

We can reach this place by repeating a mantra that obliterates all thought and takes us into the eternal well of Love, deeper and deeper until we let go of the I Am and becmoe One with All That Is.

We can reach this place through doing or listening or chanting ourselves into a place of no thought.

We can reach this place through music or prayer or doing something we love so much that we transcend time and space.

We can reach this place by being present, in the moment, breathing in and out, in and out and melting into the heart. Dissolving with every breath into Love. I am Love. I am Love. I am Love. I am Love. I am Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love

My teacher, John the Beloved taught me,

“Your world has two choices:

To Love the Self Unconditionally and in so doing, become an extension of everyone and everything else. Or-

To fear the self as being inadequate or inappropriate, and experience disconnection and fear of being open to others.” ( Quote John the beloved, 22/2/2001)

False modesty, confusion, anxiety, hesitancy, fear of failure or success all comes from the ego and the ego interrupts our intention to connect with Unconditional Love. Sometimes my clients tell me they are trying. Trying to do better. Trying to stop something. Trying to overcome. And I always say the same thing, if you are trying, you are not here. You are somewhere over there. Stop trying. Be here. Be in the present.

When we are in a State of Love, we are bathed in the sunshine that streams through our hearts. We can continue to live our lives, acknowledging what happens is neither good nor bad but is what it is. We can dissolve relationships and create relationships and maintain relationships without choking on the emotional consequences of our choices.

Relationships change over time. Sometimes they burn out. Sometimes they reach a point where the purpose for that relationship has been completed. And sometimes the energy that brought people together has been lost and with it the intention. However, if we can develop a practice where we are in a State of Love with everyone and everything, we can experience a Love that is not personal. It becomes a Love that infuses our personal lives but is not lost when life presents us with personal challenges.



Posted in Being Here and Now | 4 Comments

Follow Your Heart- Lion Wisdom part III

A transcript

Tell them, to follow their heart.

Thats all very well to say we must follow our heart but how do you know if you are really following your heart?

I did not say you must. I said “follow your heart.” Very simple. When we follow our heart we no longer concern ourselves with should’s or must’s or have to’s in our lives. When we follow heart we become clear about what we want and what we need. When we follow our heart we are no longer ruled by expectations, not our own or those of others. Can you imagine a life where you are free to live and learn according to your heart and not because people expect this or that from you? When we follow our heart we no longer concern ourselves with duty or obligation, unless of course you love to live that way. Then by all means, be my guest. So many people think that if they are dutiful daughters or sons, or if you live a life in service because you think this is the right way to live, then you can feel proud you have lived a good life. Rubbish!


Absolute rubbish!

Why is that?

Because, my dear, living a dutiful life is not synonymous with living from the heart. One can be try to be generous, kind, patient and compassionate but the very act of trying implies it is not flowing from the heart. And when we don’t live from the heart we are not being authentic. One cannot follow the heart and be inauthentic at the same time. Impossible!

You sound a bit cranky.

I am cranky. How long have we been role modeling authenticity to you all. Some of you are very slow learners. Now thats a bit harsh. We lions are proud to be who we are. There are times we are loving and compassionate and times we are ruthless, wild and powerful. But we never try. We are who and what we are. Simple. When we follow our heart we open our inner ear and every question we ask will be answered from the heart. Thats is why there is an EAR in inside the heart.

Now that’s clever. An EAR inside the heart. You make it sound so simple. But if it were that simple everyone would be following their heart and living struggle free lives.

Nonsense! Following your heart does not automatically make life easier. In fact it often makes it considerably harder. Consider this for a moment. Imagine you lived in a wonderful home and have everything you could ever want. Clothes, food, education, a loving partner and even a gorgeous child. And one day you look out the window and you see an old couple arguing, and you see a mother who is tired and frustrated because her two children have physical limitations and cannot walk so she has to push them to the shops to buy food. And you see a child sitting on the heart aches when it have something important to say. So you listen. You wait and you ask “Why do I feel so uncomfortable?” The heart is saying it’s time to go out on a limb. Its time to take a risk. It’s time to be seen, to be heard, to be vulnerable, to be courageous. Courage come from the heart. The Latin word cor, cordis is the modified by French cour, which gives us such words as courage (one must have a great deal of “heart” to be courageous), encourage (to give someone “heart” to carry out an act), and discourage, which means to give someone a “heart apart” about a particular situation, that is, to dissuade someone from doing something (from the Latin word dis—apart, not, away from, reversal). One of the earliest descriptions of courage is when we speak our mind by telling whats in our heart.

So when we are courageous are we are following our heart?

Yes. Unless of course, we are simply doing what we think we should do in order to do the right thing. Then the action of courage comes from the head and not the heart and it is no longer courage. If the heart and the head are not aligned then we begin to bring should, or must, or have to, back into our thoughts and deeds and actions and consequently slip out of following the heart.

Are you saying the heart has a mind of its own

It does. Let me put it this way. The Mind of the Heart does not get caught up in negative repetitive situations. It is truly MindFull. It does not react. It contemplates, meditates and assimilates all situations and all information, and then processes it through the heart. When the head thinks too much it begins to call in all sorts of emotions that lead to painful feelings and impulsive actions. One may mistakenly believe these feeling come from the heart but in fact they come from the emotional body of the lower mind. That small mind attaches itself to substances, behaviors, thoughts and people and creates powerful emotions to keep it in that situation. It becomes hungry for short term pleasures and gratification.

I have a sign in my office, “Don’t believe everything you think.” It’s meant to be a joke but I think it’s related to what you are saying.

It is. We can easily loose our equilibrium when we get caught up by our interpretations and thoughts. When we become convinced by our beliefs and opinions. The feelings that emerge from these are not heart-centred.

  I recently listened to the podcast by Krista Tippet called On Being and she interviewed Mary Catherine Bateson wrote a book called Composing a Life. She is the daughter of the inimitable anthropologist Margaret Meade and as I listened she quoted a poem by the great Rudyard Kilpling called, When Earth’s last Picture is Painted. It asks what is it that a human being wants. To me this poem encapsulates everything to do with ‘following your heart.” Here is the poem and as a special treat here is Rudyard Kipling himself reciting his poem. xxxx

Rudyard Kipling “When Earth’s Last Picture Is Painted” Poem animation from poetryreincarnations on Vimeo.

When Earth’s last picture is painted
And the tubes are twisted and dried
When the oldest colors have faded
And the youngest critic has died
We shall rest, and faith, we shall need it
Lie down for an aeon or two
‘Till the Master of all good workmen
Shall put us to work anew
And those that were good shall be happy
They’ll sit in a golden chair
They’ll splash at a ten league canvas
With brushes of comet’s hair
They’ll find real saints to draw from
Magdalene, Peter, and Paul
They’ll work for an age at a sitting
And never be tired at all.
And only the Master shall praise us.
And only the Master shall blame.
And no one will work for the money.
No one will work for the fame.
But each for the joy of the working,
And each, in his separate star,
Will draw the thing as he sees it.
For the God of things as they are!

Posted in Being Here and Now | 3 Comments