Archive for the Self-awareness Category

Writing

Posted in Creativity, Self-awareness on March 12, 2011 by Naomi Brosnan

I approach again with a need to write …The waves of intellect have crashed on numerous occasions against my will, like the waves that roar with the sheer power of the ocean, white water power. The foam I consider to be the evidence of passion is all but expunged by frivolous over thinking and an ultimate descent into pointlessness. I had deceived myself into thinking that I had nothing constructive to say. There I sat for weeks, head spinning ravenous thoughts around in a spiral, like a pac man munching up all the delicate passion.

My head still spins with forming thoughts holding tension that I must release. The mounting unexpressed minions dragging me to a place where nothing is soft enough or clear enough. The pointlessness dresses my soul in the foulest of rags, and does not even take joy in it’s victory! The odor has grown to a stifling intensity, it acts like a drug that changes my perception… finally I move to open the window. New air has such fragrance that it makes my mouth water, a desire for something other begins to manifest. I find myself naked and clean with a fresh stack of enthused potential.

Maybe now that I have my own permission thoughts may be allowed to crystalize at a natural pace instead of speeding in confinement. The act of writing begins the release of debris, the rattling of chains and the chink of light. The motion of doing has the tendency to quiet the mind, fishing out those core truths. Instead of shooting fish in a barrel one gazes upon the vast open nature that is their habitat. Writing creates room for ideas and their details, slightly apart from the chaos but still connected. The deep multidimensional well of reality is in constant motion, full of the diversity of many mundane acts. The rich and beautiful notion of prayer and altruism. Routine that is gently laid upon the rest of the random mind.

Bridget’s Night

Posted in Self-awareness, Spirituality on January 31, 2011 by Naomi Brosnan

A windy night with the fences banging their weight against the concrete…I like the sound, a natural composition making itself heard here in suburbia. The elemental force behind it trembles  my soul, reacting in delight at Her presence…The Smith, The Poet, The warrior. In older memory still she is known as The Shining One with the blood of the Faye running through Her. She is, in our beautiful celtic way scattered throughout the land and the spirit , a part of who we are without thinking.

Her night, a marker in the dark haze of an uncovering winter, a seed of light for the spirit to see, an idea for the mind to hold. And for the imagination of the future that will be. Bridget holds us this night ( those who would be held ) and kisses our prayers with the dew. She creates a space where it is easier to trust the light that you feel, this is ancient knowledge settled into the night. A womb to grow those fragile hopes in a tangible way, where the bright gentle ideas have tenure. Innocence makes a gallant return to the stage where her bed is waiting. She is full of that pure desire to live and dream.

Remembering the nights that have gone before, some in silence and some in splendor, these accrue to an inherent  sense of responsibility  gathering in my blood, gathering in my years. I am touching upon a place of peace. Releasing old barriers from their posts, creating space along the way.

Darkness

Posted in Self-awareness on January 23, 2011 by Naomi Brosnan

As a sort of numbness creeps with this tangible darkness that is passing, it felt as though all was lost as it should be with this shedding of skins. I had forgotten how much struggle is involved with this dance, for when the struggle resides deep in the very foundation there is no escape nor reprieve…death is inevitable. It is not the final one, we die many many deaths. In cycles our skins are shed and by times the examination of the rotting remains becomes a consuming appetite. Those are decent times when my mind can meander and have fun with the notion that I created this debris with living. The dying cells with birth beneath them.

To die is to live without any expectation, to accept this change and enter into a void of life with no memory of it’s beauty. As I breathe in this place of bitter belonging, slowly letting go of all the emotions that crest and crash upon my heart. A withdrawal from all the lies that were somehow enveloped as truth, the crutches and shadows. The darkness as velvet and beautiful as it can be is also a place where there is nowhere to hide. This darkness of mind supported by the season, dredging the emotional archives again for all that has been released this time round. What moldy rags from the past shall I uncover… I am surprised at what falls out of the pockets, a shining thing form 1995. It has no baggage, only a pure radiating energy of complete belief in painting, in creativity as a force.

It transports me to place of such ease and belonging in my skin. The memory of free flowing connection with the world in trust that was so complete it guided my soul. That kind of trust is beautiful and powerful to the point of being intoxicating. Trusting the truth of beauty that my heart sees, making a place for innocence. A place to really listen to the silence, knowing ancient songs are playing. Peace found in the precious silence of a beating heart, a primal nature waiting there. It covers the place with hope and resurrection. Emerging from the stillness each new thing has its wonder.

Whispering new year

Posted in Self-awareness, Spirituality on January 6, 2011 by Naomi Brosnan

As I approach this idea in my head like an animal who has dreamed a dream. Waking in a foreign place full of intangible conflicting notions that belong to some other race. Devoid of trust and belonging one is easily pulled into the quagmire of lies and deceit, the concept of truth drowned out by false need. Manufactured desire and fear that is packaged, promoted and mass produced. Real need buried beneath  the multitude of lies and twisted truth. There is always some seed of truth in the foundation, rather like the many churches built on top of old old sacred sites. Sites that are connected to the very core of our planet, places where the human spirit can look upon itself and really see. This mirror remains untarnished by any  force that may wish to conceal it. The power remains in the stillness that must be achieved in order to see with any real depth. Like bird watching for the soul, you must be in one place long enough to really have your boots sunk in.

The stillness within is key, as we move at incredible speeds through the solar system. All is in motion, constant changing and exchanging of energy. This stillness is not governed by physical science, it lies on another very different plane altogether, closer to the secrets of chaos and creation. In the realm of the heart is where the spirit shines at it’s very brightest. And here in the darkest part of the year that light shines long and bright. The tipping point of the year, a vision of the luminous souls in flight. Lanterns lit and released into the air, small groups of people huddled outside to bring in the roman new year. The cold and beautiful night alive with floating prayers of hope and spirit strong. They all journey towards the south-east to gather together. The bright flames becoming embers in the sky, shining like the stars, they make new constellations in the sky. Never more than seven converge on this night, their constellations made by human hands appear bright and true amongst the older residents. A torrent of hope and wonder washed through me, the sense of belonging in me deeply felt. I gleefully belong here x

Forming Trust

Forming Trust

Solstice

Posted in Creativity, Self-awareness on December 25, 2010 by Naomi Brosnan

The longest night brings memories of things that were sacred and shared. Ideas racing through my head, bits and pieces of memory, of places, of states of mind and the strength of spirit. My desire to deeply be in expression of this Druidic time of year lulled me to a deep and long sleep. I must laugh at that serious effort to stay awake enough to write, of course it was futile. The velvety dark had one big embrace for me, in the realm of dreams. Now in retrospect I see how poetic it was to sleep with the darkness, surrendering to it. Just as the clouds surrender to the wind moving in the night sky, throwing shapes around the moon.

I am finding more comfort and trust in the dark again, pushing past foreign fears and walls that have no substance. Stepping ever closer to empowerment. Even in the sadness I am beginning to feel again. It drags until it is picked up! Learning to gather up one’s own hungry children seems to be an extension of that feeling. A sadness lingers in the living memory of past experience. And sometimes I feel like I have lost all my tools to rust and decay, so I begin again with my hands. Again the cycle begins, allowing freedom to thrive more and more with the confidence that has been built.

Looking for Healing

Posted in Self-awareness on December 8, 2010 by Naomi Brosnan

Looking for healing with a blindfold lately it feels… Pulling out the choke to get the fire going again in my belly with this intangible dank that weighs heavy on my mind, clouding places that were clear…  An illusion of clutter that does not really exist, a reflection of the state of the country that no one can escape … could make one feel like a cartoon trapped inside a box, jumping up and down, hitting it’s head again and again against the top to no avail. And there the cartoon may remain for a long time to come, with the odd walking of the plank to relieve the monotony!

Now to the business of banishing outside so that the inside may become more visible… Here is a place where one can become adapt at dodging and reforming the boundaries, here there is no need of frustration. In fact the whole time could be spent in acceptance and positivity, in curiosity and joy imagine that! With a flick of a switch I am on faery time.

Later, waking in the dark… The mere thought of the quiet dark wakes me more, silence but for the tapping of the keys, no distraction on the path except of course the mind itself ! I come once again to the notion of responsibility, of focusing the wild Rarr energy. My stumbling block is the vague belief that this focusing will some how diminish the wildness of the energy… My philosophy has always been go with the flow, now I must use the current to get on rather than standing in it, using precious energy to stand still in the flow. It is rather hilarious really, me stubbornly still amongst the flow, maintaining that I am searching for freedom while my feet sink deeper into the silt. The notion of using the canoe that is tethered here, bobbing on the surface has been covered with doubt and decisions. Years of distrust had weighed that canoe down closer to the silt than the surface. Although from the mirky depths light’s diffused nature shines resplendent. Under water was a place where I felt safe, sure that I could stay longer than any other. I was alone and silenced to breathing. The inside world becomes outside, energy carried with ease through the water—thoughts setting up house and moving furniture. Like a sea creature finding safety on the ocean floor, looking up through the layers of traffic, predators and bait in a seemingly peaceful co-existence —until it isn’t. A flash of movement and the color of the water changes while life ingests life.

Life devouring itself, constantly birthing anew. So feet in the silt or no change and movement are the very tenants of life. Constantly in motion, hurtling through space time… We are not safe from destruction… It is inevitable, it is transformation as energy is indestructible … it simply becomes something other.

An isolated limb having a whole other experience  to the rest of the body, when it returns to tactile contact there is a separation, a difference that hurries to be one with the whole. Like an idea this newness fades quickly into familiarity, but that does not make the experience any less precious, for it is the challenge to hold on to that wonder… An idea that shines brightly and beautifully is meant to be protected against the mundane attitude. To be the breath behind the waves, feeling that awesome raw power,  knowing that sometimes it is advantageous to have ones feet sunk in the earth!

The Wind Has Come

Posted in Self-awareness on September 24, 2010 by Naomi Brosnan

In the wee hours the wind has come and the moon now I look upon again with a little wonder of time… It is actually full on the exact time of the Equinox… I had always assumed that the full moon heralded the Equinox.

So so beautifully stormy, like we are getting a taste of the monsoon season here… It is powerful, dramatic and so gently beautiful in it’s hues… Love listening to the wind as she shakes what will be shaken. And the smell of the Ocean out here, the fragrant air that carries scents of change on the warm current is my nourishment.