Skip to main content

"Honey, it's time!"

         My first daughter peeking out from the womb. I just love this first picture of her and all the promise 
and possibility it holds of a brand new being!

I'm all packed, and even though I have been feeling inklings of labor pains for many months, the time has finally come for the real labor. I am ready. So ready. Joyfully ready and bursting at the seams to get to know this life that lives within me, that is finally ready to be born as the expression of my heart, my soul, and my explorations as a human being.

Being a mother of two daughters, I can't very well help but to marry the creative process of birthing our souls, with the metaphor of birthing a human newborn, with all the beauty, uniqueness, and possibility that each one holds.

Have I written this before? I don't know, I don't think it matters. It is all part of uncovering more and more of the heart of who we are, and who we are meant to be. Layers and layers to get to the good stuff. 
 At this time in my life, there is the feeling like I finally made it to the part up the mountain where I can drink in the view. It isn't the top, but it is the place where I have finally received my own personal understanding, that it really was never about getting to the top. That it really is all about the journey. The contraction and expansion of the muscles. The expansion and contraction of the lungs. The expansion and contraction of the mind. The expansion and contraction of fear and bliss. The expansion and contraction of connections. The learning. The growing. The beginnings and endings. All those you meet along the way. The sensations of living, growing, bending and swaying, tripping-- sometimes finding ourselves in very contorted and uncomfortable positions just to find that drop of sunlight to keep you going--sending roots out through mud and clay, truly hoping you can trust your heart that tells you that there is water out there.

It is time for me to take all of this seriously. I have seen what light and love can do to awaken our hearts, to connect our souls, and to bring us all into a deep and lasting feeling of home with one another. I have written about it. I have spent countless hours communing with others, and my inner world about it. 

I have born witness of the Soul's expression in others over and over, and passionately celebrated my finding it in them, and felt humbled at the addition of their unique treasures to the world's trove, which has felt more accurately as adding a golden essence of preciousness right into my soul membrane. Like I WAS MADE TO RECEIVE THEM!. 

I have profusely expressed my bedazzlement--feeling the deepest and sweetest kind of magic, experiencing my eyes being opened to the most beautiful sights and sensations that could have only been created by these unique creators. I have felt a rush of something so powerful within me acting strongly to express the importance of their continued exploration and sharing of their creations and soul's findings. I have been inspired, as in filled with spirit and deepest WONDER! 

I have become a broken record about our sacred calling, above all, being the expression of our souls, and with the expansion of this, feeling a tightening in my chest in the form of longing that I might heed my own words.

I am finally catching up to the steady streams of inspiration that birthed Bloomtopia, finally getting all the fear out of the way, so that I can jump courageously into the current and let it take me! Instead of spending and using up so much energy fighting parts of me to get out of the way! 

It has been such a long journey to get to this point where I can jump in the river, instead of hesitating on the banks. 

I honor all that has been. 

In retrospect I can see how perfectly suited all of it has been to help me awaken, to help me to burn away the fear, to help me become humbled, and sacredly opened to receive the heart of my brothers and sisters, without my fear of being unworthy obscuring my view of them, creating edges around my love. 

I've had to burn through so much fear of letting my heart shine, and the even bigger fear, that I might look stupid in the expression of it, and worse, not know it. 

But this is where I keep returning over and over again:

I am meant to express.

I am meant to express my soul.

I am meant to express my soul to you.

You are meant to express.

You are meant to express your soul.

You are meant to express your soul to me.

We are meant to express.

We are meant to express our souls.

We are meant to express our souls to one another.

We are meant to paint our souls on the canvas of our experience and share in this. 

We are meant to begin. 


  1. Beautiful one...YES! It's so time to jump, giggling into that River, to shine that shine that can't help but shine.

    I love you. I am here. We are together & I'm so grateful. Ready, set, JUMP!

    So very grateful for YOU.



Post a Comment

♥ Thank you for taking the time connect with me here. ♥

Popular posts from this blog

Here With You

Photo by Daria Obymaha on Sinking lips into your tiny round cheeks, I'm home. Holding your tiny head to my heart, caressing my chin to your downy baby 'chicken fluff' we'll come to call it later, I'm home. Taking in your baby magic scent, I'm home. Pressing nose to nose, forehead to forehead, staring wide-eyed into each other's eyes, I'm home. Toting little bum and dangling legs around my middle, I'm home. Filled with purpose as you point where to go, what you see, I'm home. Your eyes, new windows to a world I thought I knew, I'm home. Holding you with fever, picking you up when you fall, I'm home. Navigating the years between, boxes of your firsts, every paint brush and pen stroke a miracle, I'm home. Saving pottery penguins, turtles, shiny red roses, a burrito with all the fixings immortalized in clay, I'm home. Kid sister fruit and craft stand on the corner, change clinking in coin purse, mag


Photo by Ben Herbert on I’m standing on a cliff overlooking the water’s edge. The sky is present, hanging there in its vastness, holding this moment with symphonic strains of gray and electric buzz. Watching, suspended, sensing. I see to both sides of me vast white cliffs carved out by relentless grasping of the ocean extending down the coastline. The earth where I am standing up above gives just the right yield and welcome, with its soft grass and dainty yellow flowers, falsely giving the impression of delicacy, when anyone can see that they are hardy to withstand the harshness of forces here. There is an undeniable tightness of gravity here, pinning me down, tugging at me, slowing down my step. I feel as if this force could just sweep me away with the littlest of a flick, like an ant off the table. It screams danger while it beckons. My life had been recently taking on new grander design dimensions when this place and I met. Dating a new man, after being a singl

Partaking of the Fruit

Photo by Anya Vasilieva on What I most struggle with in creative writing is that there are some ideas that just feel like they belong in the ether, in the natural born clouds. They aren’t meant to be pinned down, and every time I try to pin them down into a practical form on a page, I wound them a little bit, and must throw them back up into the ether for repair, to restore their more nebulous characteristics. This content isn’t supposed to have legs and weight, and to make noise when it walks, or to have such things as a name and defining characteristics. Rather, just whiffs of possibility that hint at an undercurrent of parallel worlds so vast and amazing as to put any Tolkien or Rowling to shame. Its just supposed to hang there, ripe for plucking, but the plucker beware. The fruit bruises easily. And yet, there are those books that seem to pin down something that doesn’t maim the central cast of characters, and in fact broadens the material into something that change