This Week’s Theme: Describe your character's first brush with danger
I was honestly in two minds as to whether or not I should continue on with last week's story, mainly because I'd made a promise to myself to write 52 unique short stories across the year - and this one seemed to be taking a life of its own beyond the boundaries of a short story (thank you all who breathed life into it as an extended piece with your encouragement!) Undecided I left it up to chance to see what the prompt for this week was ... so here we pick up directly from last week.
The air lock of the cell hissed as the door shut. The guards shoved her quickly against the wall beside the door and clamped handcuffs onto her, pulling her arms upwards and outwards, forcing her to bend down. All the time she kept her eyes tightly shut, the fluorescent lighting of the corridor burning her eyes, after the indefinite time inside the darkness of the cell.
She took a gulping breathe of air and tried desperately to centre and ground herself, invoking an old relaxation exercise. In her minds eye she saw three gently glowing orbs, but before she could discipline her mind to draw the orbs together into a line and then down into the one golden glowing orb, she was roughly and awkwardly pulled away from the wall and pushed viciously down the hall.
Her legs, felt like jelly and she fell heavily on her face, as they failed to respond and carry her forwards with the momentum of the push. Blood gushed from a cut in the top of her lip or perhaps it was her nose. She was unsure, too disorientated with her own body to work out what hurt, what was numb and what felt OK enough to work for her..
“Get up!” commanded a voice from behind her.
Before she could attempt to get herself back onto her knees, she was dragged back onto her feet. A small scream escaped her lips as the shoulder joints and the scar tissue on the right, threatened to release as all her weight hung on the triangulation of her bound arms. Her feet touched the ground and the pressure released.
Placing one tentative foot out she felt the feeling return to her legs. Squinting out her eyes, they began to slowly adjust, until she realised there was nothing to see. Just a long endless corridor of piercing white, punctuated by a door every few metres, that blended in so well it only became apparent as you came to the extact point of it in the wall.
At the end of the corridor she was told to stop, a code was punched into the security pad and she was thrust into a room and told to sit.
“Wait,” the taller of the two guards ordered her, “and don’t move. Whatever you do, do not move.”
She remained seated for what seemed time eternal until she realised that the feeling had gone in her hands. Left with only her thoughts, and a terror that rose in a jaggered chunk up her throat, she surrendered all of the fiery rebellion that had fuelled her for years. This time she had left everyone down.
When she left The Caves she understood the dangers that awaited her within the Gated City. Over the years she had devised a meditation technique in which she would predict, envisage and then overcome all the dangers and obstacles for each assignment before she left the safety of where she was staying - that way she was never caught unaware. She had learnt the hard way, with her first scrap with danger what would happen if you were not prepared.
She was leaving Brisbane in the days before it had become the Gated City and was heading south for the Coast. Despite her urgency to leave, knowing it was a matter of time before someone from the Government knew she had been there and came searching for her on the open road, she had pulled over for a hitch hiker. She was a young girl, not much younger than herself, with untidy auburn hair and a sunburnt face. Ten kilometres down the road the hitchhiker had pulled a knife on her. In the ensuing struggled the four wheel drive had veered sharply off the road, through the guard rails and down into a culvert before ploughing into the embankment on the other side. Her first instinct at the sight of the knife had been to fight back. It had surprised her as everything until that point in time in her life, had been passive aggressive, she had never had FIGHT. But what had surprised her more was the lack of remorse she felt walking away from the body of the young girl in the long grass, her head twisted at an unnatural angle. A huge blood spattered hole in the windscreen on the passenger side gave away the fact that someone else had been in the car.
Brigit’s shoulder ached. Broken in the accident it had been set late by a healer with only a little knowledge of bones and never healed properly. Years of yoga, of stretching and building up the muscle had never compensated for the break in judgement and bones that day.The similarities between the hitchhiker and Adam struck her like a blow to the stomach. He was another break with her better judgement, after all these years of being so damn careful. After experiencing unbridled freedom from Mother for most of her adult life - here she was caged by enemy. Something she could never make peace with.
She had made peace with the fact that circumstances may call for her to detonate the explosives before she herself could leave the building. It had taken a month or more to come to a space within herself where she could unequivocally say she was ready to die,if she was call to sacrifice her own life. In all the exploration of the possible problems with this assignment she had never seen Adam, or anything like Adam. So firm was her belief in the Sisterhood and their city cousins in the Underground that she didn’t factor in betrayal. Not simply his betrayal of her, but her betrayal of those pinning their hopes on the success of this assignment, betrayal by the weakness of her own flesh.
Disregarding the orders given to her by the guards, she got up off the chair worked her body back through the loop made by her bound arms, until her arms were again in front of her, and her shoulders in a more comfortable position. Doing this engaged her mind and kept her from falling victim to the apathy and desire to just give in that was threatening to overwhelm her. Instead she tapped into the rawness of the anger that was building within her.
She placed her hands on the table and studied the handcuffs. She had never seen a pair of handcuffs, let alone worn a pair. She pushed them back down her arms towards her wrist until they hung like a sloppy masochist’s jewellery. Sliding her wrists out she held them in her hands and wondered what sort of guards cuffed someone’s forearms?
Before she could ponder further, the door slid open and Adam walked in alone.
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Friday, January 25, 2008
Thursday, January 24, 2008
I was looking forward to writing my Thursday Thirteen but somehow the entire day has slipped away from me - and now I need to slip into bed. So it will join the list of other things to write for tomorrow (deadlines are not going to be reached - but I'm ok with that) Tomorrow is our first kindy morning tea, Dylan want to bed late and I'm already have caniptions about what may go down considering the late night, lack of sleep, lack of Dad for a week etc etc etc?
A small quote for today before I do depart to the land of the sleep fairies:
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
It was with utter shock, followed by great sadness, the news of Heath Ledger's passing. I hadn't heard the news all day and was listening to Triple J on the way to the pet store late this arvo. They were about the discuss the Oscar nominations but said that had all been over shadowed by Heath Ledger's death. It took a while for me to really get, that he was no longer with us.
My friend Lisa years ago had the biggest crush on Heath and I remember placing a photo of him I'd found in the centre of the TV guide for that week in her pigeon hole at work, with some suggestive comments scribbled across the top. She kept it for ages - she may even have it still. I watched 10 Things I Hate About You with her, to be followed up by A Knight's Tale a few months later, with my friend Trudy while I was living in Albury. It has hard not to like him, or admire his talent and ethics as an actor.
His passing is one of those things that you just dont expect - young, vibrant, talented ... He will be sadly missed.
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
I'm a bad person. I am forever conceptualising myself as being time poor. This I do admit is partly to do with the fact that I am a workaholic and self confessed addict of being constantly busy. You would think that I would have an immaculate house as a workaholic - as I dont have a job outside of the home - but that's not the case. I can assure you that I don't keep myself busy with cleaning and ordering our home! But I digress.
Last year after we came home from the Bunya Mountains I wrote an article called The Tyranny of Time on being time poor. In retrospect it probably had more to do with me mourning and working through my need for freedom, more so than being caged by time constraints.
Yesterday I worked out that Buddha was true when he said
Monday, January 21, 2008
means so very much to me ... it tells me that my attempts at self expression are vital and are touching (perhaps even influencing) the lives of others. Thank you so much Smiler.
PASSION ... which is the difference not just between writing that is entertaining and writing that is deathly dull, its what can change the world - or leave it wallowing in ambivalence. Passion is the fire that makes writing speak, not just to your head, but to your heart and your soul.
CONNECTIVITY ... that is the ability for the reader to connect with their writer, as well as the writers ability to connect their own thoughts and beliefs with others in such as way that it crosses all barriers of culture, religion, geography, age and any other barriers you can think of, to find a common ground. Writing can be a force for uniting if the right hook is offered.
AUTHENTICITY ... and we're not talking plagerism here! Writing that comes not just from the heart, but come from the space of truth, with humility and without pretentiousness has the ability to transform the reader. And as Square1 commented the other day - you always know where you stand with someone who is authentic - and that is what you should expect as a reader.
And now - five people to bestow this wonderful award on ...
Dan at Danae Sinclair
Paul Anderson at Clamouring to become visible
Carmi Levy over at Written Inc(who I quite honestly do not visit often enough - note to self to change!)
Annie at Annie's Musings (you can bop me on Wednesday for dobbing you in for this)
and honourary awards to Square1 at Fanciful Muse (who's already been nominated), Smiler who first sent this award over and to all my fellow Artist Way journeywomen over at Cluster of Artists (our private blog!)
Sunday, January 20, 2008
I never take counsel of my fears
Saturday, January 19, 2008
In preparing the birthday invite for my darling partner's 40th birthday yesterday - I did a little research on what went on in 1968. It was quite interesting (to say the least). I had forgotten how much I love researching stuff - and how bloody carried away I get with it. Not all of it will e used for the invite so I thought I would post it all here rather than let all of that work go to waste.
In Australia the population reaches 12 million. The town of Meckering in WA is badly damaged in an earth quake. Mail delivery goes from two deliveries a day to one, Ansett ANA is renamed Ansett and a referendum in Tasmania paves the way for the granting of the first casino license to Wrest Point Hotel. In NSW the Breathalyser is used for the first time, Sydney’s water is fluoridated and the first heart transplant in Australia is performed at St Vincent’s Hospital.
The Winter and Summer Olympics are held and Australia wins five gold medals in Mexico City. Rod Laver wins Wimbledon, South Sydney beat Manly-Warringbah, Carlton defeat Essendon before a record crowd at the MCG, Western Australia win the Sheffield Shield, Bruce McPhee and Barry Mulholland win Bathurst 500 in Holden Monaro GTS327 and Rain Lover wins the Melbourne Cup.
The Seekers are named Australians of the Year and members of the Who and Small Faces are escorted from a plane at Essendon airport after an unscheduled landing due to bad behaviour. John Farnham, Doug Parkinson, Zoot, Masters Apprentices, the Bee Gees, Ronnie Burns, The Executives and the Easy Beats grace the charts. Bandstand with Brian Henderson, The Bell Birds and Play School are our home grown small screen hits.
The world loses Martin Luther King, Robert Kennedy, Helen Keller, poet Dorothea McKellar, British comedian Tony Hancock and author John Steinbeck. In the same year Celine Dion, Guy Ritchie, Riki Lake, Owen Wilson, Kylie Minogue, Hugh Jackman, Rachael Griffiths, Duncan Armstrong, Julian McMahon, Eric Bana and Lisa Marie Presley are born ... oh and my darling partner David Harris!
Friday, January 18, 2008
This week's story comes from a dream that I had about a year ago ... and will hopefully be the first installment in an exploration of this world and the characters that live in it ....
The screech of the hinges opening on the small door snapped her back into reality. Her body became instantly and instinctively alert, as she waited for the rough grasp of the guard's hands on her bruised shoulders. In the sensory deprivation of the visual and auditory abyss surrounding her, the visceral smell of fear and blood was her only navigation point. With the door open again, she smelt it with a terror that allowed her to centre herself in the moment and prepare for what lay ahead.
"Are you angry with me?"
"No. My rage is at a system that has destroyed what it means to be a woman and a man. A country that pretends it’s Utopian, that it’s rich and peaceful. No one at the mercy of the uncontrollable ravages of natural ebbs and flows of biology – women don’t bleed, women don’t bare children, men and women who no longer have sex. People just live to consume. And beyond the gates the masses die without food and water.”
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Thursday, January 17, 2008
What are you good at? And more to the point - what are you shy about being good at?
The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others' comments. It’s easy, and fun! Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!
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Wednesday, January 16, 2008
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Today's quote, pulled from my trusty Guide for the Advanced Soul earlier on today - seems to speak to me on numerous levels now .. I guess that true acceptance in one of the practices of authenticity - if you can just be in the moment and not be yearning for the past or the future, then you are being true to yourself. You are accepting, being in the moment is without demands or expectations.
I not only need to accept those around me, forsaking demands and expectations, but I need to practise the same with myself - to allow for less demands, less expectations and more opportunities to just be me - whoever I am in that moment - whether it be good, bad or indifferent.
Having experienced tonight, the true breaking down to the primal me, it was incredibly nurturing to have Dave and Dylan to just accept me as the howling (and oh yes it was primal and raw) mess I was on the kitchen floor, as the welled up rage, frustration and sorrow came spewing out - both literally and metaphorically. I knew it was coming, but I have bee fighting to hold back the flood tides of negative emotions and experiences. I dont think that I have ever cried so hard that I couldn't breathe any longer , like I did tonight on my kitchen floor as dinner popped and bubbled above me. The constriction in my chest was so tight it felt as though my airway was blocked. The anger was so desperate to leave I actually vomitted it up.
Neither Dave nor Dylan tried to fix me, nor tell me to get up and stop being silly - they just sat or stood next to me and allowed me to (finally!) let it all out. There were no offers of tissues, not consoling words - just there presence and witness of me in my terrible glory. Dylan wanted to know later, as I was resting in bed, why I was sad and what was wrong with me - Dave told him simply that I was tired ... and that was probably the whole truth of it. Not just tired physically - tired emotionally and spiritually ... and probably intellectually and psychologically as well. Dylan laid down next to me a little later and told me that he was sure I would be better tomorrow. He's not used to seeing tears from me - but at least he's seen part of the authentic me.
I've been reminded in the most awful of ways what will happen to me if I dont take the time to rest when I bleed - when I don't for one day tell the world to stop so I can get off, and allow myself some time to rest and regenerate. I need to accept it and so does my family and friends. I have learnt that its not rhetoric - its wisdom and its meant to be walked, not just talked.
So I've been to a dark dark place tonight - somewhere I dont go often, but somewhere I obviously have to go from time to time to purge, because I'm not good at allowing the anger and frustration out as it occurs. And, I'm feeling vulnerable, washed out, raw and in a way empty ... it seems there was a lot of anger and bitterness being carried around. They seem to be quite hefty in weight - but I guess anything that is carried in your heart space is.
And I've just been reminded to honour this space that I'm currently in - I rarely allow myself to feel vulnerable or raw. So with grace I shall accept my vulnerability and my rawness, because there is beauty here.
Image by Alan M Sherwood
Monday, January 14, 2008
Just when you thought that too much Andy Warhol was not enough ... yes Annie and I were back at GoMA again this morning - with our tiny tribe of kids in tow..
We all had an absolute ball in the Silver Factory section of the Gallery that is especially set up for kids. They got to go in the 'Silver Clouds' installation (and wasn't that a trippy moment for me when I stopped paying attention to the three kids for a moment and uttering "Be gentle" in every other breathe - and looked up to see a multitude of silver pillow floating in the ai above me!), as you can see above - had their photos take a la Warhol style in a specially designed photo booth (then we picked the colours and emailed them home!), stacked Brillo, Campbells Soup and Heinz sauce bottles and then had fifteen seconds of fame where the kids sat on a seat and were filmed, then cast up on the wall old movie style with the count down numbers and all. It was brilliant ... oh and we got some temporary tattoes as well. Who could ask for more.
PS: Dave has just pointed out to me that Lilly, Morgan and Dylan need to form a band in 20 years time and use this photo as their first album cover!!
After much teasing here it is...
I never thought much about what my perfect day would be. When you're a full time Mum juggling all the demands that are placed on your time and energy - there isn't a lot of time for dreaming. I also caution to say, that for a time I steered clear of dreaming because it was so far removed from the reality of my life, that it was depressing to see that huge gulf between where I was and where I hazarded, to want to be.
For a few months my beautiful friend Annie and my soul sister Karen had been plotting to get away by ourselves to see the Andy Wahol exhibition, while Karen was on holidays here in Brisbane during early January. It looked for a while like it wouldn't happen and then miraculously it did.
Saturday lunch time Annie and Karen were dropped here at my place and we began our adventure by stopping in at Handmade Naturals. Karen has had the joy of experiencing their products care packs from me and from internet purchases, but she's never been into the store - which is amazing in itself, with the colourful tied dyed baby clothes hanging in the window and all the beautiful natural and organic beauty and personal hygiene (gosh I despise that word!) ... and all the wonderful organic produce. So Karen was in seventh heaven and Annie not far off. With the brown paper bags clutched in hand, and organic chocolate melting in our mouths (and not in the 30 somthing degree heat) it was back in the car.
Next stop was the Lifeline Bookfest. Twice a year Lifeline (a charitable organisation that uses its thrift stores to subsidise its free counselling lines) has a huge book sale at the Brisbane Convention Centre - its something like 50 odd rows of books on trestle tables that run from one side of the hall to the other - its massive. Karen had never been, as it is usually held over the Australia Day Long Weekend in late January (which coincides with the beginning of the school year - and Karen is a school teacher). So when she accidentally found out that it was one while she was in town she was ecstatic. Dave and I always toddle off to the bookfair to come out fully laden with books for the next six months.
The best thing for me, is that the bookfest seems to be a good measure of my personal growth ... as whatever is clutched under my arm as I walk out is usually reflective of where I am at. This time around I didn't go anywhere near Family and Health .. and instead cruised the Science and Politics sections, along with oddities and my favourite "new age" which appeared for the first time ever. I left with a lovely collection of Goddess books!
After losing each other, and then finding each other ... it was time to haul the books back down in the underground car pack, find space for them all and then with much excitement and anticipation go on to the Andy Wahol exhibition at the Gallery of Modern Art (affectionately known at GoMA!) By this stage Karen was declaring the day her "Perfect Day".
The exhibition blew my mind, as prior to walking in I hadn't had a great deal of exposure to Wahol's work ... not any of the stories of the great man's life etc. I immediately lost Karen and Annie - which for me wasn't such a bad thing - I was happy to browse at my own pace. I was most intrigued as to 'how' he achieved what he achieved with his work ... and how he played with and pushed the existing technologies to produce what he did. In the age of computer generated images, photoshopable images and then rest - it good to be taken back to a time when it was a canvas and converted dark room equipment. I was in LOVE!! And I look forward to going back with Dave to see all of it (I missed seeing the films that were running and looking at all the memorabilia that was part of the exhibition) I also want to go and hear one of the many lectures that is on (a definite potential Artist Date I do believe) and more over - I'm inspired to give some of the art ideas that have been rushing around in my imagination for quite a while now - the light of day.
Karen and Annie with cameras in hand set about taking all our favourite types of 'I've been to the Andy Wahol exhibition' type photos and Karen went searching for a photo of the cityscape in the late afternoon sun.
By the end of the exhibition the chicken sandwich I had made Karen at my place, and the tomato and cheese sandwich Annie had made for herself at my place (yes I forgot to eat!) had worn off ... and it was off to the Bohemian elegance of The Three Monkeys in West End. Amid plates of Dianne cake, nachos, Betty Blue coffees (coffee from a tiny soup bowl!)and a ginger crush we had a chat fest. Then I dragged out the Sandra Boyton book that Karen had got me about love. I set about reading it out loud and after each page we tried to find a name/relationship to match each type of love.
It was dark when I finally got home - close to 8pm and I was exhausted. But now I have the Perfect Day etched into my head and have this memory to carry around with me until we can create the Perfect Day II at some stage in the not too distant future. It's given me hope to begin to dream again and to have faith in the fact that dreams can come true!
Annie and Karen went to teachers college with each other about 20 years ago and have been friend ever since - Karen and I worked together from 2000-01, and then we lived together in 2002 and of course - have been friends ever since! So there's quite a bit of accumulated love history between the three of us to share, muse, be embarrassed about and a fare slab of laugther too.
With great reluctance we emerged energised from The Three Monkeys to make the trip home. The sun was so glorious hitting the cityscape that we took a quick detour to allow Karen to get one final picture of the city with the setting sun casting a perfect light on the sky scrapers. It was also a perfect stop for some final friendship shots ....
More photos to follow later on today when Annie drops me off her disc of photographs from the day .. All photos here are of me, or I'm with Karen.
Sunday, January 13, 2008
Saturday, January 12, 2008
Today was unanimously declared 'The Perfect Day' by my two friends Karen and Annie. It was so perfect that I am now exhausted and about to head off to bed. Tomorrow I will recount our adventures together and perhaps share some photos ... until then goodnight and dont let the bed bugs bite xxxx
Posted by Jodi Cleghorn at 9:34 PM
Friday, January 11, 2008
She was whole again - mended together with his tiny lines of silver suturing that thrummed beautifully in a synergy of both pleasure and pain.
This prompt comes to us this week from the creative genius of Paul Anderson.
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Thursday, January 10, 2008
In this, my year of authenticity, its timely to remind myself of the things that I do truly love ... so here is my list of 13 things that I love ... and I will endeavour at the end of the next thirteen lunar months to have done each of them, at least once a month...
I love ....
- Taking unplanned and spontaneous adventures
- Taking photos
- Sewing in all its forms
- Being creative
What are the things that you love, that because of the busyness of life, may have been forgotten or rescheduled to a date, somewhere in the ephemeral future when there will be more time, more energy, less committments ..... you get my drift?
Wednesday, January 9, 2008
1. Answer the question, “What do you expect from your blog?” and try to be as specific as
- I want to consciously and easily use time to my best advantage
- I want to easily find myself demonstrating my competency in fiction and non fiction writing
- I want to be filled with confidence and self discipline, successfully reaching my goal of being a published writer.
- I want total clarity in setting appropriate goals that lead to success in the area I desire.
- I want to easily find myself recognising and utilising opportunities when they arise
- I want to easily find myself filled with the right ideas leading to success in the area of writing
- I want to easily find myself seeing life in a way that bringsjoy.
- I want to easily find myself managing my time in a way that allows plenty of time for work, play and family.
- I want to easily find myself filled with optimism and faith, pursuing directions that make me feel free.
Themes for the current Capricorn new moon:
success and recognition
releasing controlling tendencies
Jan Spiller, author of New Moon Astrology (where this information and the above wishes is derived) suggests casting or making your wishes within eight hours of the new moon, for best affect, but at any time during the 48 hours past the new moon (unless the moon goes void of course). She also suggests making more than one wish, but no more than ten. The last two points she suggests are that they wishes must always be handwritten (I have a special diary that they are written n) and that you go with your gut feeling on the wishes - I guess without the aid of the book it opens you to go with your intuition for what you want to wish for based on the above themes.
I've been doing this since May last year, and find that it helps to chart my course, by best harnessing the energy present at the beginning of each month. It's not surprising I guess that a lot of my wishes are focused on writing - seeings this is the major aspect of my life that I want to nurture and develop in the coming year. It also seems to bring together what is going on in my life at the time, and synthesizing it into a positive format with which to work with.
At the end of my little writing ritual I always go to my Goddess pack and draw two cards - the top and the bottom cards to see the energy that I have to work with to allow the wishes to materialise ... and as always there is a definite synergy between the cards at the wishes. I got a new pack of Goddess cards for Christmas, so this was their first trip out for the lunar wishes.
This month I drew on the top (which I refer to as the conscious, or what is definitely 'on top' for me in my life at the moment) Nu Kua, who is a Chinese goddess who embodies "Order". With all the reordering that has been going on - this was no surprise. Her wisdom to me:
"Now is the time to nurture yourself with order that assists rather than chockes your life force ... when life is ordered in a natural way, you nurture your path to wholeness."
The bottom card (which I refer to as the unconscious, what is rising to the surface to be understood or acknowledged or is passing and becoming incorporated into life ... and the two cards always seem to work together - often what is on the top one month, is on the bottom the next month) Gyhldeptis is a North American Goddess who embodies 'Synthesis". Her wisdom to me:
"This is the time to find the common thread that will serve your needs in the best way ... wholeness is created when all the parts are honoured and listened to."
More musings on this beautiful Goddess wisdom later. And a Happy New Moon and astrological/lunar year to everyone.Artwork: "To Be Born" by Remedios Varo, Sagittarian Surrealist ... painting came through with my AstroRave this morning and seemed quite fitting, not to mention beautiful.
In the dying hours of the dark moon (and the astrological year), in the space that I had lovingly cleared of all 'stuff', wiped down and mopped with soapy water infused with frankinsence (transformation) and geranium ( balance) essential oils ... I got out my first smudge stick and got down to the business of clearing the energy from the space. The following is the incantation that accompanied the swirls of smoke:
Be gone embodiments of self defeat, self consciousness and self doubt.
Be gone the habits of excusemaking, of procrastination or martyrdom.
Be gone the feelings of worthliness, of inadequacy and of feeling incapable.
Be gone the energy of self stymying criticism, of perfection and creative blocks
Be gone the fears of not being good enough, of not being smart enough, of not writing well enough.
Good-bye to all the residual energy in this space and place, that was once a workstation. May it be cleansed, renewed and recreated as a space of creative pleasure and adventure.
This was my first effort of cleansing a space in this fashion - in the past we've blessed rooms, which I should probably do today now that I asked all of this stuff to leave (least it return to the space that is now vacant with pregnant potential.
It also reminded me of the fact that the spaces in our home needed to be reguarly cleansed - not just the tidy, sweep, mop, dust, decluttered etc - but the psychic or energetic clearing. So I make the committment to this new space of mine, to keep it not just clean and tidy on the physical level, but on the energetic level as well. In this way I keep to my pledge to be authentic in all aspects of my life.