Category Archives: Journal

Current events in Lianne’s life.


photo by Lianne
photo by Sean

I hope sharing this story doesn’t put you off, but I had some trouble last Friday…

It started okay… Went to lunch with my son and then went shopping in a warehouse hardware store for solar panel skylights to brighten the dark spots in the windowless central kitchen of my home.

All went well until I decided to get a cold drink from a stall outside while my son was still chatting to someone in the store, and the mature woman behind the counter saw fit to tell me I should be getting a diet drink because too much sugar was bad for me… So I had a small and uncomfortable interaction with her, as I explained that I could not drink diet drinks as the chemicals in them were bad for my fibromyalgia and attacked my muscles.

She instantly replied that sugar drinks were not good for diabetes, too – to which I retorted (a little annoyed) that I may be fat but I do not have diabetes, and sugar is all about moderation… And then my eyes wanted to roll back in my head when her response was to get upset that I was questioning her knowledge, and felt she had to declare that she taught the subject of sugar intake to teenagers.

(I held my tongue, then, because I have had years of study and working with nutrition, myself, and did not want to get into an argument on that level… but later I also remembered that people with diabetes should never drink diet drinks, anyway, because aspartame stuffs up the insulin cycle… For those who think I should have got water, by the way, there was none available).

That was the first rattle of the day, and I went to my car wondering how the heck someone could be so arrogant as to lecture a stray stranger that way, without any knowledge about them at all (and not even listening to the tidbits supplied)?

The drum rolls of the day were not finished, though, and later, as I was backing out of my carpark space I heard a massive ‘crunch‘.  Another car had met the rear corner of my car, backing out at the same time I was.

I’d barely been able to register what had happened when a woman was at my passenger window, yelling past the surprised face of my disabled son, saying that I wasn’t looking where I was going.

Well, I disagreed with that.  I am always extremely careful in shop carparks, because people don’t seem to care for their own welfare these days, and anyone can walk behind your car just as you’re moving.  So I’d been very careful to check before slowly backing out.

I thought it was completely clear, and was thoroughly surprised that an accident had happened – but immediately put it down to ‘missing something‘, because hey, I’m a fallible human being… But the woman did not even stop to take a breath as she continued to castigate me through the window.

I wound the window down, which allowed her to almost poke her head in, making her tirade worse – but I needed to ask her to move her car away from mine, because I’d tried to move back into my carpark, until I felt the extreme grab of her car in my bumper and knew more damage would be done if I pushed it.

The woman did not listen and kept claiming that the police needed to come, and that she would not move her car until they did.

Well, our cars were blocking both lanes of the entry and exit to front of the warehouse, so I explained to her that it was not a police matter because no one had been injured.

She kept ranting and raving, and it was quite obvious that she was a foreigner living in Australia because of her accent, and her attitude was extremely poor toward Australians, who she thought were all idiots.

This put my back up.  I have come across this sort of racism before from Europeans living in my country and it always pisses me off when I see or hear it (though I usually try not to respond to it).

I tend to wonder at people who think our country and services are good enough to come live in and use, but then abuse the people who have built it all up so they can enjoy them.  For me, you don’t go to another person’s ‘house‘ to stay and treat them like they are idiots in being generous enough to let you in.

(Plus, there is a bit of history in my reactions to this, as I married into a ‘foreign’ family, where my husband’s parents initially treated me as an inferior because I was Australian – third generation from immigrant Irish-Scottish-English-German farmers who were never convicts, actually – but born here, so my sire line apparently doesn’t count).

Despite my best efforts, I began to raise my own voice, (which was probably helped along by the previous ‘poking’ from the woman at the stall).

So, there were these two older women (me and her) in the carpark, blocking the traffic and yelling at each other across their cars… And into the fray came a young woman from the hardware store, trying to calm things down.

At first, I was happy with the intercession since she did tell the other woman that it was not a police matter, too… But the other woman continued to run me down, (not even knowing anything about me other than that our cars had connected), so I called her a ‘goon‘ in a fit of pique.  (I don’t know what ‘goon’ means elsewhere, but here it is slang for an idiot…)

For that, the young woman (who was barely the age of my grand-daughter) saw fit to harshly condemn and lecture me for calling the other woman names, and even for ‘yelling‘… And, boy, did that rile me, especially since she didn’t say a word against the absolute yelling from the other woman.

I told the young woman that I was not yelling… I was raising my voice and my tone was vehement, which was a natural reaction to being upset at the tirade plied against me and a normal expression of human nature …and if she wanted to hear yelling I could go a lot louder.

(Let’s face it, I come from a different generation, where people were allowed to show they were upset when they were upset, and where today’s attitudes of not being allowed to show it were not the rule.  When I was young, the idea was about curbing extremes and not being violent, not suppressing my human nature altogether…  My crowd grew up with a right to be pissed off, so long as you didn’t hurt anyone).

She rolled her eyes and looked stony as I added that ‘If you want to calm things down you don’t lecture people because that is always going to escalate things’.  After which, she walked off, and I went back to my car to get my phone to call my husband, muttering ‘lectured by a 20 year old!’

Now, I wasn’t happy with having ‘lost the plot‘ a bit, myself.  It wasn’t how I’d wanted my day to go.  I just wanted to get the insurance details and go home, but the other woman refused to give me anything, despite my writing all my own details down for her and handing her the piece of paper.

At every step she was in my face, abusive and degrading with her language and attitude, and it was all I could do to get the job that needed to be done, done… and in the end, my mouth let rip the unthinkable, as I told her to go back to Germany !

Her instant reply was that she did not come from Germany, and so (on a roll by then) I shot back – well, Lithuania, Sedetenland, Czechoslovakia, take your pick! (And got some slight satisfaction from seeing the smiles on the faces of some nearby observers as I did that)… It was not a moment to be proud of.

I’ve spent a lifetime hating bigotry and criticizing people who speak like that to others, and in one fell swoop I joined the ranks of those I had previously condemned.

I did try to calm things down a bit toward the end of our meeting, by saying to her that we were both quite obviously extremely upset because this sort of thing didn’t happen very often for us, and we were struggling to figure out how to deal with it.

I had never had an accident like this before, and said so… but her immediate response was to say that she had never had an accident before, but I had obviously had plenty.  It was such an aggressively negative stance and a ‘below the belt shot in the dark’, (probably based in hurt, and maybe I was to blame for that).

When I did finally get her written details, I had to immediately question the letters and numbers she’d written, because there were unreadable squiggles in parts, and where she had written the numbers 9 and 4 in one way, she had written them backwards in another section.

I fixed the mistakes but kept wondering throughout the day thereafter just how a person can do that ?  If she had written all her numbers the same way, or all letters as the same squiggles, I could understand it – but to change them like that was extremely odd.  I wondered then if perhaps she was having a medical crisis which I hadn’t been aware of.

She may have had a minor stroke… It would have explained her instant road rage, too.

When I finally left the carpark, I was on one hand happy that I had put two aggressive and demeaning older women in their ‘place‘ (blame my celtic warrior ancestors for that), and on the other hand my gut was churning because I had not been able to keep my cool as I usually do and maintain enough detachment to stay objective.

By ‘spitting chips‘ of racism, myself, telling her to ‘go back to where she came from‘, the words of some of the bigoted people I grew up associating with had poured from my mouth, after years of not wanting to be associated with that type of bigotry as an adult…  It was not a high point in my history, and certainly did the reputation of my Australian peers no good.

I have to admit that I am human enough to have had other episodes of upset in my life, especially when my pride was hurt or I was under attack.  It’s not a regular occurrence, but it has happened, and there are those who always look for potholes in your road and make sure you’re condemned for having them… (I’m sensitive enough to self-castigate.  I don’t need anyone else to do it for me).

With the modes I’ve developed all my life, I strive to be a more calm and spiritually oriented being, these days, and it really hurts my heart when I fall down.

I would much rather have found a way to deal with either of those women with calm and soothing so that they interacted better, and I have actually done so with others many times in the past… (You can’t deal effectively with the large groups of people in the organizations I was associated with back then by being that volatile and personally invested)… But on this day, my responses didn’t even let me really put my brain ‘in gear.

Well, I could go on being ashamed of myself and self-castigating, and I could wallow in that to the degree that I eventually undermine all the past beauty and light I have truly established, and perhaps I could undermine all I may have established in the future, too, if I let such castigation go on too long…

Which brings me to the unassailable fact that no matter how ‘spiritual‘ any of us are, in truth spirituality is an aspiration and an ever-evolving life path, and is not set in stone… And such moments happen to even the most enlightened beings. (Read my comments in a previous post, ‘Reality).   We are human, too, and we all have ‘off‘ days.

Nevertheless, I spent a very disturbed night on Friday, and again all day and night on Saturday, going over my own actions and responses.

It wasn’t so much that I felt wrong in being upset or offended by the behavior of those two women, but that I was upset at myself that I could not hold it so well together and maintain my own calm under such attacks.

Maybe I didn’t get physical but words do hurt, and I was as guilty as they were, in doing that, that day.

For me, too, knowing the power of words, it was almost a sin –  because my words were like an idle curse.

My son took many photos on the day, of the damage to the cars and the position of the accident connection. It was only after I saw those photos that I realized I was not in the wrong (as a driver) at all.

The other woman had come from a carpark diagonally opposite to mine and instead of swinging backward into the exit lane behind her car, had zoomed way across the dividing line into the entry lane behind my car.

My first thought was ‘She’s going to get one heck of a shock when she finds out she’ll be the one paying for all this‘.

My second thought was to wonder if she was okay, because maybe she had had a medical crisis that caused that weird event.

My third thought was to actually relent a little in forgiveness toward those I had grown up with, for their bigotry, because maybe they, too, had been ‘letting rip‘ from a point of wounding (though theirs was more of a constant throughout their lives).

We are human, and I’m sorry that I did not behave so well in the face of fire that day, but now I need to let it go and remember who I am and what I really stand for.

It was, after all, only a moment in a lifetime of much different behavior… This is what I often find it hard to explain to some who say that if I behave like an errant human being at times, then I am not living up to my spiritual aspirations – or, actually, as they have deemed, being the spiritual being I portray myself as.

When I aspire to be spiritual, I never think of myself as perfect.   Indeed, I don’t think of any part of life as perfect, apart from in the idylls of my mind, because for me we were never made to be perfect.

We were made as artworks in the mind of the divine, and most artworks are flawed and even assymetrical.  Artworks have personality, and are not taken piecemeal, but as the whole.  In that whole, they are beautiful, attractive, and inspiring – but if you were to pick them apart, you’d find enough flaws, if you wanted to look for them.

To me, life is Art, and I am part of an artwork.  Maybe I am flawed and not as beautiful as I aspire to be all the time, but in general I think I hold up pretty well.  As do most of us.

That day held some lessons for me, taken from insights and thoughtful dwelling.

Every time anyone slips up, that sort of opportunity is there to help us grow, to expand in awareness, and to at least have some compassion for ourselves as we try to cope with the less salubrious elements of life, at the minimum.

From another point of view, as an astrologer, it was ultimately interesting to realize that transiting Mars is conjunct transiting Pluto in my Third House in Capricorn right now, bringing about possible aggression in my local environment, communications, and commercial interactions, and triggering my birth chart Pluto opposite the Moon position that has always caused me some trouble with women whose nature is a tad dominating and overpersonal.

On the positive side, that same air of aggravation is blowing sparks in an extremely wonderful way in the romance department with my hubby of late… (Both he and I are highly ruled by Pluto, since he has a Scorpio Midheaven and I have Scorpio Rising).

There are always two sides to everything. 🙂





I Talk to Animals

Personal photo by Lianne, copyright.
Personal photo by Lianne, copyright.

I talk to animals.

No, I’m not Dr. Dolittle.  No, the animals don’t talk back – not like humans expect a conversation, anyway.  But I do talk to animals as if they understand me, and I believe they do.

I also talk to plants, trees, or the sky, occasionally…  Perhaps that’s because I am pagan in my spiritual orientation, but I think it runs deeper than that.  I think it’s because I believe we are all One.

Years ago, I was a regular visitor to a pixelated realm called Second Life.  Being in that virtual reality world helped remind me that we are all just players in this life, the ‘real‘ world our bodies live in.  It showed me quite clearly that the roleplays, duties, levels of status and position, age and physical appearance are all veneers.

In Second Life, I could choose to be anyone I wanted to be, young or old, male or female, animal or human.  It gave me a new perspective.

While I have always talked to my pets, having been one of them for a while in my journeys through Second Life, I started to relate to them as if they were the same as me – but wearing the body of a pet and confined by the movements, behavioral traits, and voice of the pet.

That’s how it is in Second Life.  Although there you can also chat and send text messages, that reveal your true inner nature inside the avatar pet body.

Animals in ‘real‘ life can’t talk to us like that.  But I don’t believe that doesn’t mean they can’t talk at all.  For me, they just talk differently, and communicate in other ways than what we humans classify as being conversation.

During my sojourn in Second Life, there was a personal revelation as well.  In real life, I was mature, overweight, and overburdened by my roles.

The freedom of expression I had as a virtual avatar showed me that, while my outer body and roles might have changed, my inner self was the same as it had always been.

Having overridden the conditioning and the expectations, both from others and of those I set for myself, I found lightness, brightness, laughter, and joy again.  And sexuality.

There are some damn good programs for sexuality in Second Life (or SL, as the players like to call it), and while it may seem odd to watch yourself in pixel form going through the very non-contact motions with another pixel form, the realization was new inspiration and renewal of sexual energy in ‘real life’.

(FYI, my hubby was the other pixel form).

For me, sexual energy is also Kundalini energy or creation energy, which can be directed to sex but can also be directed to any activity where you want something to manifest.  It is life force energy, (some call that Chi), and by revitalizing it in that pixel realm I realized how much it had been suppressed in my ‘real‘ life at the time.  (Older bodies and different life roles have a habit of smothering past passions).

So my experiences in SL brought about revitalization, reaffirmation, renewal of my self-awareness and self-love, and a recentering in my physical realm with a greater ability to split the ‘me‘ from the ‘reality‘ – not via escapism, but by recognizing my natural truths even as I invested myself in playing the ‘game’.  By being the ‘Player’ who could opt out any time, and is always aware of their self as a separate entity from the ‘game’.

My SL experiences also brought about an intensification in awareness that the connections between we humans are very strong, even where there is no physical contact going on.

In SL, relationships are quickly formed, and not just mental but deep emotional connections are regularly made.  Boundaries are easily set aside as the instant depth soars the spirit into a ‘high‘ and people feel they have found ‘soul mates,’ even though only mere days or weeks have passed.

Hearts are broken there.  Friendships and marriages are created and gone in a matter of moments.  Some translate to ‘real life‘ and do go on.  Some break up marriages in ‘real life‘.  But the element that struck me was that without the physical forms, and the status and roleplays to guide us, visually, people connect very easily in spirit.

So I believe that spirit is the key to all relationships.  I believe spirit expresses as both emotional and mental.   I think it is the core element of our being that enables both life and passion.   And that when it is engaged, powerful things can happen.

My revelations from my experiences were these.  I am not my body.  I am not my roleplay.  I am not my place in the world.  For me, those are modes and functions that enable me to journey through my ‘physical life‘ to forge a ‘destiny‘ or reach a ‘destination‘, or to ‘play the game.’

In my mind, I am spirit.  I am both a player in and an observer of the world I inhabit.

In my belief system, I am one cell in a great body that I call the Divine, and am never truly apart from any other cell.

As spirit, I enter a body that is  used as an avatar or carrier so that I can experience the relationships between all the cells of the Divine, whether animal, plant, mineral, or cosmic.  Yet my body, itself, is also made up of cells, each inhabited by the spirit of the Divine.

Together, all these cells and individual avatars, on so many different levels, and in so many layers, form the ‘reality‘ that shapes the roleplay of my physical life.

So, thinking and believing as I do, it is not a great step to talk to animals, or to any other cell in the universe I inhabit.

In viewing my world less as a finite shape and more as a place where pixels can be adjusted by Divine Will, I am less bound by conventions.

My reward for interacting with what I call a ‘greater awareness‘ is that the furries (animals) and other animal, bird, and insect entities in my world seem to be more aware of me, and I feel they have shown me this, regularly.

Now, I am no Buddha, either.  While I love all life and respect it, I do acknowledge that I inhabit a physical realm that needs to be kept somewhat under control if I am to manage the space I live in, rather than be overruled by it.  So I do kill cockroaches, poisonous spiders, threatening snakes, etc.  I played mass war on the termites that infested my house, and keep guard over it to prevent their return.

I do not conform, however, to a belief system that says I will feel the mark of being a murderer on my soul forever because I committed those beings to ‘death’, because I do not believe they are dead.  In my estimation, I just zapped their physical avatars and recycled their ‘game play‘ to a new level of ‘reality‘.  And therefore every time I squish a cockroach, I still bless it but say ‘next life.

Despite being a pragmatic killer in that way, the cockroaches (I live in the sub-tropics, where you can really never get rid of them) still play games with me, coming to say ‘hello‘ when I cut food on my bench.  Some are lucky to get away to live another life.  Many get squished.  And I say, ‘you risked that play badly.’

(You can see that my whole view of ‘reality’ changed after my sojourn in the pixel realm of Second Life…)

Spiders also walk across my lounge room floor while I’m watching television, in full view (again, it is the sub-tropics, and you can’t get away from life just because you live in a house, here).  They never learn.  But they do get a chance to be put out into the garden, where they may live another day, if I can catch them.  If I can’t, they will be sprayed.  That’s just life… and death.  Recycling.

I am never lonely, because I am persistently surrounded by vibrant, connecting life.  If I am sitting in one spot long enough, my cats and dogs are all over me, warming me up on even a hot day.  If I am outside in my garden, the birds always come to sing to me, or butterflies flit past.

I have regular visits from families of possums to my garden, because I feed them kitchen scraps in a bowl screwed onto my fence, and they still come despite the fact that many of them have died under the claws of my cats. (I use pieces of one of their skulls on my altar, to honor the animal realm).

At night time, my home is regularly filled with the ‘click, click, click‘ communications of geckos (who eat cockroaches, so they are always welcome), and I can see them play on the fly screen over my lounge room window while I sit and watch television at night – big fat geckos who I know are watching me and my family inside as much as we are watching them.

You may think that’s an assumption, but there are always the same family of geckos (you get to know their shapes), feeding in the same place, within a two foot radius, and if it was just the light from our lamps they wanted, they have a wall of windows to choose from…  They selected the one where they can see us sitting on the couch.

You might think this is a stretch, to believe that we are being observed like that, or to feel that the animal realm is in strong communication with us, but it goes beyond the fact that my pets do ‘talk‘ to me.

If you heard my pets doing their ‘Scooby Doo’ throat chortles in an attempt to ‘speak like a human’, you’d know they were communicating.

But animals also communicate through body language.  And I will never understand the scientists who say that animals don’t have expressions – because they are just missing the subtleties.  Expressions are more than a wide smile or a raise of the eyebrow.  My animals have tried to smile (looks like a grimace), raised their eyebrows (twitching hair above the eye), shown disapproval (turned their head away), and shown sadness (bowed head to ground).

As well, having an adult disabled son with speech difficulties, who has told me after listening to his recorded voice that he didn’t sound like that to himself, I tend to believe that animals just have speech difficulties, too, and don’t sound the way we hear them to themselves.  They think they are talking our language, and probably get frustrated like we do when people get the wrong message, despite their best efforts.

Still need convincing?  I woke one morning, years ago, to an absolute cacophony of birdsong outside my bedroom window.  I looked down into the garden to see what the ruckus was all about, and was astounded by a mass of birds, large and small, flying around and sitting near the corner fence of my backyard.

These were birds that normally don’t hang around together. Some were predators of the others, yet there they all were, making a ruckus as if there was something they needed to band together to fight.  Of course, it intrigued me.  I went down there to find out what was happening.

Normally, wild birds will fly away when a human being is clearly seen and coming toward them.  But this mass of birds stayed where they were as I approached.  They just went quiet and watched me.  Only when I got close enough to see what it was they had massed around, did the smaller birds fly away.  The Australian crows, (actually the largest ravens in the world), still sat and watched me – four of them.

In the cordyline plant growing in the corner of my yard, a large diamond python had coiled itself.  This was the great enemy that the birds had gathered to warn me about.

I knew straight away that they were protecting my yard, my grandchildren who played there, and even my pets (though the cats were known killers).  Any of these members of my family could have been hurt by such a large python – swallowed whole, in the case of my small pets.

Obviously, the python had availed itself of the food potential presented by my possum feeding bowl, which the birds always pick over the next day. (The possums feed at night).  It must have got quite a fright, to have slithered to the precarious position of the cordyline, which has a very open foliage of narrow sword shaped leaves, and got itself barricaded there by an air battalion of angry birds.

When my husband appeared beside me with a rake, the crows (ravens) watched him carefully, obviously seeing what he would do.  They only flew away when he finally slipped the python out of the plant and over the back fence into the scrubland beyond, so it could go on its merry way.  Only then did the crows fly away, and we never saw that particular python again.  I’m sure it learnt it’s lesson.  Our yard is protected by a bevy of birds.

After that, my own awareness of how the outside world watches us was greatly increased.  We can go through life blindly, only seeing what we want to see and only acknowledging what we want to acknowledge – but when we open ourselves to greater possibilities, the universe becomes a very interesting place.

A different python visited our home a couple of years later. Well, I think it was a different one, but I can’t be completely sure.  (If it was the same one, it had done a heck of a lot of growing…)

My husband and I were relaxing under the shade of a vine covered pergola, deep in conversation as a gentle breeze flowed over our bodies one warm spring day.  During the conversation, I heard the leaves on the vines rustle, but just thought it was the breeze moving them.  When I happened to look up, an absolutely massive python had stretched its body right along about ten feet of the pergola trellis, under the vines, and was silently watching us.  I had the distinct impression it was very interested in our conversation.

Of course, a large python like that just cannot be in our yard. We have pets and children to protect.  So off my husband went to fetch the rake again, while I watched the python to make sure it didn’t go anywhere else.

It lifted its head up out of the foliage and stared back at me, silently. And it was an absolutely beautiful being.

So I talked to it, out loud.  I said, ‘You know you can’t stay here. We have little dogs and cats and children playing in this yard, and we don’t want you to swallow them. You have to go.’

It didn’t move.  Just kept staring at me. But I did not feel any menace.  I did, however, feel a real sense of connection, of curiosity, and of being visited.

My husband seemed to be taking ages, so I took one brief moment to turn and yell through the back door, asking where he was.  In that brief moment of turning away, that huge snake, that had taken so long and slow time to move though the vines on our pergola, completely disappeared.

My husband and I thoroughly checked everywhere, poking and prodding the vines, and searching the surrounding garden, just to make sure it was gone.  That snake must have really put out speed.  But it obviously took my message.  We never saw it again.

I don’t know how anyone can ever feel alone in a world so full of life communicating.

Even in my most ‘solitary‘ moments, there is always something going on around me.


P.S.  After reading my post, my friend told me that she also talks to animals, especially to birds.  And that reminded me of another real story of my life – years ago, whenever I was feeling down or depressed, I used to go sit alone on my bedroom balcony and sing my way through an old book of ballads.  It lifted my spirit, and I really belted them out.  (Not sure what the neighbors thought, but it helped me a lot).  And while I sang, birds would always come roosting in the trees in my garden, and just sat there, listening.  They would cock their heads this way and that, but didn’t make a sound until I finished.  Only then, they’d fly away.   So I can tell you for certain, we are listened to by the natural world around us !

Lilipily Spirit – Empower Your Life, Connect with the Divine.

Kundalini Garden

Kurt rests his back and enjoys his handiwork - personal photo by Lianne
Kurt rests his back and enjoys his handiwork – personal photo by Lianne

We have a small garden in our front yard that is rarely used. It is, however, a delightful place. So I thought about making it more focal by creating an artwork there for some time – I just couldn’t figure out what to make.

Sean and Lianne standing on the Kundalini trail, with Muffy watching – personal photo by Kurt

I would have liked to make a face in the tree, but the tree doesn’t have a big enough trunk to carve one into it, and I was worried about the tree being able to grow properly if I created a sculpture over its trunk.

Then, Sean and I saw some flat garden labyrinths, and thought it would be a good spot to put one of those. Only the space was actually quite small and anything too complex would be difficult to actually use. (We did want to walk it some time, and hoped that children might want to, too).

Spirals are always images that draw my eye, so I thought perhaps we might make a spiral, instead. I laid a pattern of loose old bricks on the ground to see how it would go.

Sean and Kurt approved the pattern, but Kurt was still a bit unsure. The bricks sat there for weeks while we decided if they were going to stay. When work finally began, it just seemed right to do away with the bricks, and let the concrete take a more undulous form.

Sean and Muffy walk the Kundalini trail – personal photo by Lianne

Kurt spent two days laying the long snaking mounds on the bare ground, while Sean embedded white quartz in a wave pattern along its back.

When most of the work was done, I imprinted my hand on the nose, and so did Kurt, and then I created swayambuth, or buddha’s eyes, over our imprints.

Swayambuth eyes over Kurt and Lianne’s hand prints – personal photo by Lianne

Sean imprinted his hand at the turn of the snake’s back, along with his little, dog, Muffy’s paw print.

Sean and Muffy left their prints - personal photo by Lianne
Sean and Muffy left their prints – personal photo by Lianne

I also wrote ‘Kundalini’ along the side of the head, so that anyone visiting would not get the wrong idea, since some seem to associate our paganism with bad things and might think the snake is bad energy when it’s not. Kundalini energy is the energy that supplies the chakra system in the body, and is the same as chi energy, or universal life energy.

Since kundalini energy is also creation and sexual energy, I also put in the sign of Shiva – a trident. And because we had some pebbles left over from the mural we did on the half wall surrounding our kitchen, I poured them into the head area – not realizing till later that it suddenly became a symbol of yin and yang, with the black and white pebbles sitting together as they are now.

Kundalini and Yin-Yang stones - personal photo by Lianne
Kundalini and Yin-Yang stones – personal photo by Lianne

It also struck me, later, that with Kurt’s hand behind one eye, and my hand behind the other, the forces of male and female energy were embedded into the snake head – very apt, I think!

We had a lovely time, even though the guy’s backs are now a bit sore.

We all got covered in dirt and concrete dust, and I really should have been as smart as the guys, who had at least put work clothes on… My kaftan is going to take a bit of soaking to come clean, now.

We live on a medium size suburban block,  but that doesn’t mean we can’t have some fun and create an individual expression, here.  (Luckily, we’ve sorted out things with the neighbors, who accept the pagan artists in their midst).

Such things help us reconnect with life and nature, and always feel good.

Sean and Kurt stand inside their creation - personal photo by Lianne
Sean and Kurt stand inside their creation – personal photo by Lianne

Not sure if we will add some fine pine bark to the paths, or more pebbles, or simply leave it as it is.  For now, we’re going to let the concrete dry, and see how it all embeds with its environment.

After all, Mother Nature may want to leave her print, too…

Click on any of the photos, above, to see a You Tube video clip of our Kundalini Garden.  Hope you like it!


Lilipily Spirit – Empower Your Life, Connect with the Divine


photo courtesy of
photo courtesy of

If you’re wondering why my blogs have dwindled to a trickle, it’s because I am dealing with what feels like overwhelming personal issues right now.

These are of a level that rattle even the best inspirations and philosophies.

There is often a deep sadness that wells in my throat, my eyes, and my heart, and even as I try to manage it and realign to better modes, it is just there and is not going away, because the sadness is grief.

Because it is grief, it cannot be submerged or let go.  It can only be lived through.

I can let go of the situations that caused the grief and put them into correct perspective.  I can let go of the people who have now deliberately left my life and move on without them.  But it is much harder to accept that a piece of my heart has died.  It takes time for the ‘heartwood‘ to grow new ‘sap lines‘ for nourishment when the ‘tree‘ has been attacked.

There is an ash tree in my garden that was split in two by lightning in the last big storms we had.  We propped up the split halves because there was still a joining at the base, and the branches on the split trunks still thrived with green leaves.  But even with the propping, and hoping that the tree would bridge such a dramatic gap, nothing seems to be happening.

If we leave the tree like that and it doesn’t bridge the gap, the gap will fill with debris that will eventually rot the heartwood and bring disease to the tree.  So now we have decided to cut off the part that needs to be propped, and to see if the part that is left will be strong enough to heal itself and keep growing.

The tree is already forever changed by the split.  The scars are forever there even if we remove the part that can no longer stay up by itself.

Even in its new configuration, the tree will never be what it might have been, had it never been shattered by a lightning bolt event.

This is where I am at, too.  The parts I am hanging on to are still thriving but can  no longer be a real part of my life.  If I keep trying to heal the wounds, all I will do is encourage disease.  I have to let go.  I have to remove the connections that would destroy me.  And that is why I am grieving.

Of course, in all such scenarios, with a reduced form, there is the question of whether the ‘tree‘ will survive, anyway.  But at least it is still standing – that half, anyway – and only time will tell.  (And in the case of the ash tree, we will make good use of the wood, turning it into something beautiful, eventually – as all things past, good or bad, should become).

There are some who say that at times like these people should seek counseling or therapy, or some kind of healing, but truth to tell I have plenty of this.  I am a ‘healer’, myself, so I know how to access healing.  I am in touch with my ‘guides‘, so I have plenty of advice.  I’m just not happy with the advice I’m being given, and  I need time to grieve and time for ‘healing‘ to take effect.

In the past, I have seen other people for counseling and healing services.  They like to say that it’s best to talk about things with others, to let the overwhelming feelings out, but in my lifetime I have learned that doing so is not always a good thing.

What I learned is that when I tell others of the darker things that have happened or are happening in my life, they may listen sympathetically to a point but then they begin to paint my character with the brush of darkness.

Even where the dark things have happened because of other people and events outside my control, and not because of who I am or what I did, I ended up being further victimized by the judgement the others I communicated with placed on me.

I’m not sure if that happens with everyone, but it does happen to me, and I have come to the conclusion that my empathic abilities imbue my words with such intense power that in the end this is all those who hear them remember.  And when that intense power is focused on recalling the darkness that has beset me, then the darkness they feel in my words is all they are left with – not logic, not objectivity, and not compassion or sympathy.

I can rail at their misconceptions and misunderstandings but it does no good.  Talking with others about the things that hurt me usually ends up just making the hurt worse.  So I try to keep these private things to myself, these days.  They’re not anyone’s business but mine.  They are for me to deal with, alone.

As well, by focusing energy on those things at all, they become worse.  Where the mind focuses, there is power.   By focusing on the darker elements in my life, I give them power over me.  And then my gut churns all day long.

I’m all for truth and facing the darkness, but the human mental and emotional bodies can only take so much.  Such darkness needs to be in small doses, not a bombardment that lays you under persistent siege and wears you down.  That’s when dis-ease sets in.

I’m older now.  I have to take better care of myself if I am to live the life I want to live.  There is no time to waste on negatives for long.  But what can you do when, despite all your best efforts, events keep conspiring against you to bring you down?

The guidance I am given is to hang in there, and the future will be better.  But the future is not now.  The future does not deal with the pressure and pain I need to handle at this time, in this moment.

I have been trying to redirect my energies.  But I’ve stopped working on creating things for our business at present, because I don’t want anyone else to pick up any of the pain and sense of helplessness I am going through.

Everything I create takes on some of the energy I create it with.  I know that I will do more down the track, and that will be okay, then, but for now I need to get a handle on myself.  So I am working with what already is, in the business, and am taking  a short break from creating, at least for others.

On the other hand, I am halfway through another great artwork in my home, and now have streams of flying birds traveling in drifts and circles across the large ceiling space that spans my family room, dining area, and kitchen.

When I began it, my husband was concerned.  He thought it would be ‘too busy.’  When I was halfway through attaching the vinyl cutouts that are the birds, I got concerned myself, thinking it was bringing the height of the ceiling down.  But now all the birds are up, there is this great sense of movement and space, and energy.  It’s a good thing.  Not bad.

I’ve also been catching up on getting my rampant garden under control.  It’s been good to rediscover its well laid plan and the plants that have thrived in our very wet summer this year.

I’m okay when I’m doing these things, until I remember those who are no longer with me – those who once shared these spaces, who I would have shared these activities with in conversation, who I enjoyed having in my life as loving companions… (at least, who I thought were loving companions).  Then the sadness wells up from deep inside, again.

All will be well, eventually.  My creative energies are strong.  Truth to tell, not much has changed in my life, apart from having to face the fact that these were my love investments and my hopeful aspirations for the future of them, not theirs.

It is also hard to see those I love, who are still present in my life, suffering because of the actions of those who have left.  But life is about change, and change is a constant even when you think you have established safety and security.

All life is a whirl.  So I am waiting to see what happens, and leaving such motions in the ‘hand of destiny‘.  I will do what I need to do, until my heart is once more feeling the fullest joy of life.

In one of my ‘guidance‘ sessions, I talked with Shiva. This vedic god is known for his blue throat, because he drank the poisons of the world to save creation from its own machinations.

In the strivings of life, as people try to find their own ‘nectar of the gods‘, they often stir up deadly poisons with their selfishness.  And once that poison is set free, it cannot always be contained or dealt with, especially by those who released it.

They, too, can feel helpless that the actions they took to better themselves and their lives ended up releasing poison that could ruin everything.

The story of Shiva is that, by remembering that he is immortal and divine and not part of the destinies of the world or cosmos except by choice, he could make a sacrifice of himself by drinking the poison and removing it from the world – thereby ensuring that the goodness and prosperity that was sought was all that was left, and that those who brought it forth could enjoy it.

Sometimes, we have to make a sacrifice of ourselves so others can prosper.

That does mean accepting pain, because poison naturally brings pain with it.  And it does mean becoming forever marked by the poison, just as Shiva has been forever marked.  But just because you accept and take on the poison others send your way does not make you ‘bad’.  Shiva remains pure even though he bears the ‘mark‘ of poisoning.

Accepting the poison being sent your way does not mean you are ‘bad‘ and they are not.  It just means that deflecting or rejecting the poison does not help anyone, and neither does blaming those who send it.  All that can be done with such poison is to transmute it.

I know people who deal with the curses of others by cursing back.  But if you curse those who send curses, or rebound their curses back to them, their curses only escalate because they will be in even more pain and darkness, and acting upon their reactions to that.

The only way to remove a curse in action is to accept it and recycle its energy into something blessed.  And by doing so, you bless the cursers and help them find the harmony and prosperity they need to stop cursing.

That does not necessarily bring them back to you as companions in camaraderie.  Shiva spends most of his life alone, contemplating the cosmos, and only has a small circle of family to engage a worldly life with.

The joy in such sacrifice is not in bringing people back together who perhaps should not be together.  The joy is in ensuring that the poisons will no longer harm anyone and that life can be the beautiful place it is meant to be for all.

So I will keep my darker stories to myself, and will deal with them in private, knowing I am strong enough to do so, and that with time and cosmic contemplation I will transmute them into a different energy.

Curses  are just a manifestation of power and all power is neutral until shaped by a vessel of desire and intention.  The same electricity that powers the kettle you boil water to brew a cup of tea with also powers the chain saw that cuts down a tree.

I will absorb the curses currently denigrating my life and use the power to create blessings – and then watch out for the run of ‘happy buddha beads‘ I make after that, because they will be absolutely superb !

Love and blessings to all those suffering in any way in this universe.  Bear up.  Keep your eyes open for the ‘fireflies in the darkness‘, lighting the way.  The dawn is coming.


Lilipily Spirit – Empower Your Life, Connect with the Divine



space_art_wallpapers_12-1600x1200In the long journey of life, we can become obsessed with completions.  We can become obsessed with meeting our goals.  We can become obsessed with obtaining the ends we searched for, and forget to rest and replenish along the way.

When life looks after us, by ‘throwing a spanner in the works’,  by presenting us with obstacles that slow our progress, or by creating setbacks that make us stop and bide our time, we can get upset or feel restless or frustrated because we are no longer progressing along the paths we’ve set ourselves.

It’s hard to see, then, that these pauses in progress are for our own good.  It’s hard to understand that the cosmos, in its greater wisdom and wider viewpoint, has seen our exhaustion before we even felt it, caught up as we were in our ambitions or inspiration, and has played the ‘wise parent’ in forcing us to rest and recuperate a while.

In those times, all we can see is that we are not making headway, that we are not becoming the success that we hoped to be, and we begin to build scenarios in our heads that these pauses are measures of failure, of lack of worth. or of an inability to achieve.

When life is moving forward and good signs are coming in that our dreams and hopes are accessible, we have no doubts or lack of faith.  We build on these with great enthusiasm.  Yet the valleys, the ditches, and the pauses too easily rattle that optimism, destroy that faith, and plunge us into darkness.

When all is good, we have a great belief in ‘things greater than ourselves’.  When things become what we see as ‘bad’, we too easily wonder where the ‘goodness’ went and what we did wrong to deserve this circumstance.

As a child plays, they are happy in their play.  They create and are amused, and delight in every moment.  They don’t want to stop enjoying their actions or exploring their days, but the parent calls them to the table to sup, or to bed to sleep, and the child grumbles and complains.  Yet the food replenishes exhausted energy, and the sleep revitalizes depleted cells.  All is actually good in these pauses, and goodness comes from these reins.

When things no longer go well or go your way or as you planned, you can easily begin to explore possible errors and imagine that some dastardly flaw is making itself seen – but often the truth is that the cosmos is simply protecting us from ourselves, even though the way that protection comes at times may be through extreme circumstances.

So easily is success replaced by fear, if we let it.  It should not be so hard to have faith, or to keep trust going.

As children, we trust our parents, even as we rail against them for putting us to bed because we wanted to play all night.  We believe in their wisdom.


I needed rest and respite.  I wasn’t taking it.

Now, the world has brought natural disasters, and things breaking down.  I am forced to reassess, realign, slow down, rethink, and to measure myself and my processes.

Through the wisdom of the cosmos,  I have been ‘put to bed‘,  where I will ‘sleep’ until I am refreshed and ready for a new day of wonders.

I am taking a brief ‘time out’  from the ‘road of life‘ to ‘camp out and count the stars’.


Lilipily Spirit – Empower Your Life, Connect with the Divine


photo courtesy of
photo courtesy of

It has been hot for days.  So hot that you could not leave a window open.  So hot that you had to keep the curtains shut wherever the sun shone in, to prevent heat getting into the house.

Yes, we have air conditioners, but they cannot cope with such heat, either.  They struggled to do more than circulate warm air in our open plan house.

Outside, the garden was wilting.  The trees were losing their leaves.  I decided to risk the water bill and give them a drink.  They sang to me, afterwards, but the song was brief.  The heat went on.

I remember when we had our feast of Beltane, not so long ago – the beginning of November.  We threw flowers into the pond, then, praying for rain, but it didn’t come.

With the heat of the days enervating us so much, and hating to see another drought take away my garden, I prayed for rain each night.  I woke this morning wishing for rain, a respite, a drink, at least an overcast day to stop the sun beating down on us.

I was home, alone, when it happened.  The heavens opened, and it rained.  These were not drops, they were strands, they were sinews and muscles of rain, falling from the heavens to pound down on everything below.

At first, I was happy.  My garden would have a good drink.  I was glad that I had watered, too, because the rain would now soak into the soil and not just run off the surface.  It would be a good rain, a beneficial rain.  But then it kept on raining.

I am used to the storms in our sub-tropical region being heavy at times, but they always pass in a very short time.  They’re usually over in ten to fifteen minutes, but this one went on.

Our home was built on a sloping block where the surveyors said there was a water flow in wet weather.  Not a stream, but where the water gathers and flows downhill when it rains.  So we installed many catchments and drainage pits and pipes to channel the water away into the storm water drains  but still, in heavy rain our laundry courtyard, which sits on the upper part of the land where the water first gathers, struggles with the water dammed by our house.

Each wet season we check the drains to clear them of leaves and debris.  Despite a lot of water gathering there, they cope okay, usually, but this time they didn’t.  Those muscles of water pounded down and the courtyard water levels kept rising.

They flooded the garden shed and climbed the wall of the house slab.  It was eight inches deep and still gathering.  I feared that it would enter the house.

The drains were blocked.  I tried to unblock them over their grilles but only two began to gurgle.  I couldn’t move the grilles with my bare hands, the water was too deep, the rain was too heavy.  I couldn’t think straight.

I’m out there in a long kaftan, prayer beads I had just made hanging at my neck, the tassels soaked and wet cloth clinging to my skin.  All around me, lightning flashed and thunder cracked the ether.

When the lightning lit up the air with a huge branch just feet away from me, I gave up struggling with the grilles and dashed back inside.  For the next hour, I sat on my knees at the laundry door, scooping leaves off one of the drains that was still draining – a small opening just outside the laundry door – always watching the water levels against the brickwork, wondering if this little drain would be enough.

It was monotonous work, became automatic.  But then, the beauty of the water struck me, its clarity (where it didn’t have debris floating in it), the purity of the rainwater.  I reached my hand into it, felt its beauty, its life.

I sat back on my haunches for a moment (not for long, because the drain kept clogging with more debris), and looked up at the grey sky, the rain pouring down, and felt the trees and plants singing.  They weren’t worried about my house.  They were enjoying the beneficence pouring down on them.

I realized that the prayer beads I had just made were a wood called Saptaparni, also known as cheesewood or Milkwood Pine.  It’s a hindu sacred tree, belonging to the divine couple, Shiva and Parvathi.  The wood exudes a milky sap like the milk poured on a lingam, denoting the virility of life.  It is said to purify the doshas, to enable Panchakarma, the cleansing and rejuvenation of the body, mind, and spirit, restoring balance and well being.

I remembered my piece on the Tandava, written here, as the lightning cracked again. The lightning reminded me of Shiva.

Here was the blessing I had asked for, prayed for.  How many others had prayed for the same thing?  And now the heavens had opened up, and a deluge came down.  It really was a bit too much.  I wondered if this was the beginning of another flood.  We lived through a grand flood in our city not that long ago.  It’s not something I want to do again too soon.

So what could I do?  I thought of my rajadeva, could he help?  I remembered his kiss from long ago, and so I relived it, sending him a kiss and asking him for help.  Then I thought, I am an element of the divine.  I am co-creator of my existence.  What do I believe in?  I began to gently blow air through my lips, imagining that I was blowing the clouds out to sea.  I began to wave my hands above my head, imagining that I was waving the clouds further away.

I heard the thunder crack, so close.  The lightning flashed, too near.  My son’s little dog, a shihtzu, sat beside me like a lucky pixiu, watching my endeavors, not phased at all.  I thought, calm the ether, calm the elements, and reached out healing into the air, into the sky.

There was no immediate result, so I kept on working, scooping away the leaves and debris, throwing it onto the garden bed in the old vegetable patch so it wouldn’t re-enter the water.  I thought that perhaps my metaphysical efforts were not valid, that magic like that would not work in such large scope.

Then I noticed that the rain seemed a little less heavy, that the water levels had reduced a couple of milimeters, and then that the thunderclaps were becoming more distant.

In minutes, the rain had eased.  I was able to take some time to try to clear the other drains again.  My son’s little dog bounced through the water as if she was in the shallows at the beach – happy, excited.

Was it a coincidence, or a confirmation of what I believed?  Was I mad or was I living my spiritual dimension?

It didn’t matter.  I realized that blessings must come from the laws that hold this physical realm together.  When I wished for rain, it came, but only when the physical conditions could climb to a level that enabled that rain – and then, those same physical conditions meant that the rain would be heavy and prolonged.  Such is life on planet Earth.

The aftermath left water in our walls, leaking all over the inside window sills for hours.  The drainage hole in the laundry floor, which  connects to the outside drain, did well up and flood the tiles.  But that was the worst of it for us.

I was exhausted, but actually happy that my garden got a drink.  Plus it had been so hot, and my saturated garb had made me refreshingly cool.

Others did not fare so well.  By the time my husband came home and was able to remove the grilles and clear the drains, climb on the roof and clear the gutters again (that he had done not so long ago) a neighbor was working with a chain saw, trying to remove a tree that had come down.

On the news, we saw that flooding had happened all over our city, taking away cars with it, and many trees came down.  The tandava had wreaked destruction, but had also brought life – like the monsoons of India.

The respite was only brief.  The rain has come back, but is now slow and steady.  I can only wait and see if the ground will become so saturated that it will flood, like the last great floods we had.  (Not so good).  And the weather report is for more rain in the days ahead.  If it wasn’t for fear of past floods, I’d see it as a blessing.  So I am choosing to see it as a blessing, and taking a wait and see attitude for whatever else may come.

In every moment of challenge, there is beauty to be found, if you look.  I enjoyed walking through the water in my bare feet.  I enjoyed getting so saturated in the rain.  I enjoyed watching the dog gamboling in the water.  I loved the way the water felt when I wove my hand through it.

Yes, it was hard work.  Yes, I was exhausted.  But what a wonderful and immediate way to reconnect with life, with nature, and with the divine.

A moment of blessing, for all that.


Lilipily Spirit – Empower Your Life, Connect with the Divine




photo courtesy of
photo courtesy of

Living in the southern hemisphere, our seasons are opposite to those cycling through Europe and America.

The ancient Celts worked their calendar cycle of events according to the seasons, not dates, so the fire festival of Beltane  was celebrated at the halfway point between the Spring Equinox and the Summer Solstice.

In Europe, the May Day event sprang from the rituals of Beltane.  For those living in the southern hemisphere, Beltane falls in the first week of November.

Many here, however, still follow northern hemisphere traditions, so we are in a complex situation where, as we prepare for a season of fertility, the local children are knocking on our doors in Halloween costumes on the eve of October 31 with death and ghouls and shadows on their minds.

Pagans celebrate Halloween as the festival of Samhain (pronounced ‘sow-wen’), also called the ‘Feast of the Dead‘, and that is actually a time of joy since it is about being with deceased family and friends, and honoring their memory – but even though my grand-daughters know that, and know that this is the wrong season for Holy Eve, they still want the gory darkness of the popularized commercial Halloween with their friends, where spooky witches dress in black and purple, cobwebs and spiders adorn perfectly lovely spaces, and blood and gore, skeletons and monsters prime the day.  Kids will be kids, after all.

For my family and pagan friends, though, our real celebration on this coming weekend will be for Beltane, and we will gather on Sunday the 2nd of November for our annual ritual of putting up and decorating our Litha  tree  (Litha is the mid-summer or summer solstice celebration for the Season of Love).

Like the old nursery rhyme, ‘Jack be nimble, Jack be quick, Jack jump over the candlestick‘,  we’ll be  jumping over a candle on the day instead of dancing around a bonfire, because the days are already so hot here in sub-tropical Australia that no one would want to light a bonfire.

As well, instead of the ancient mode of dousing all candles and fires, and relighting them from the bonfire, we’ll just turn off all the electric lights and switch them them back on, ( as well as lighting other candles ), as we carry our Beltane  candle through the house.

You get a small idea of what this picture entails in that process.  It’s sort of an ‘out with the old, in with the new‘ ‘breath of fresh air‘ ritual.  It’s about renewing energy and reaffirming the life force.

In that same mode, as new age pagans in a small suburban home, we’ll pick flowers from the garden and drop them into the fish pond and swimming pool as gifts to the ‘otherworld‘, asking for life-refreshing rain.  (We got a bit recently, but the drooping leaves on our trees say we need more…).

It all sounds a bit quiet when compared to the rowdy and full-blooded events that are celebrated for Beltane  in Europe, today, but for us the ritual is about connection and reconnection.  It doesn’t have to be rowdy to be relevant.

The ancient traditions also see a mating of the Green Man and the May Queen (Green Woman) on this day, and in those olden times young people not yet wedded could partake in temporary conjugal bliss in the name of the God and Goddess, and any babies born from those unions were said to have birthed from divinity.

The concept of this mating was, however, the fertility that comes from Father and Mother Nature, and the burgeoning of their offspring.  It was an acknowledgement and celebration of the powerful blessing of life in this garden of Earth.

All spiritual faiths and religions have their own modes of celebrating and honoring the divine.  Pagan modes are not that different to the expressions of mainstream religion, despite whatever long term propaganda has been perpetuated.  The only differences, in truth, are in the concepts and names shaping the mythologies behind those expressions.

Paganism is an inclusive spirituality, and accommodates all other religions and faiths.  Even among celtic themed pagans, there is a wide variation in expression, including of the concepts and names.

Our own expression is not so much about the ancient traditions, mythologies and names, ( which may be partly because of a disconnection from them due to our southern hemisphere locale ) but is more about the themes and rites of passage these celebrations evoke.

Not all my children are pagans in their religious modes, nor are all our friends or workmates, yet they do understand the neutrality we bring to our ceremonies, and the wide scope it has of encompassing all life, in all its forms.  They can partake in our rituals and celebrations without feeling that their own modes of worship have been maligned.

As suburban pagans in Australia, we don’t dance around bonfires ( at least, not in our backyard ), and we don’t go off into the garden to have sex.

Instead, we decorate our tree for the next big ritual at Litha (it stays up until the New Year), sending blessings back to the divine for all the blessings given to us through the year so far as we hang each bauble on the tree.

We turn off and turn back on our lights in the presence of the blessed Beltane  candle.  We jump over that same candle for good luck in the coming year.  We throw flowers into our ponds and pools to encourage rain.

If the night gets cold enough, later, we may light a small brazier and toast some marshmallows on sticks over it ( but with the night heat already lingering in our locale, I’m doubtful that will happen this year…)

…and while I’m no longer a ‘spring chicken‘ and will never bear more children, if I’m lucky, sex might be a ‘ fountain of youth ‘ bedroom event after all have gone home… ( oh…my…god…)

Check this YouTube video clip of a recent family moment, when possums came visiting on our upstairs balcony.  This is for us an ultimate expression of Beltane…

Blessings for Beltane, and may life continue to bring you gifts and especially the ability to enjoy them !


Lilipily Spirit – Empower Your Life, Connect with the Divine


Clock Pendulum

The energy of life oscillates like a sine wave, going up and down in peaks and valleys similar to the line seen on an ECG (electroencephalograph) machine.

The wave can be erratic, spiking to high peaks and plunging to low depths.  Sometimes, it can smooth to an almost flat line.

This energy is expressed in metaphor by the physical engine of a pendulum.   The pendulum swings from one extreme to the other, as it goes from side to side.

(Going round in circles is not what I’m describing right now…That’s another story).

In metaphysics, this metaphor is used to describe the active and passive phases in the expression of ‘life force‘.

As the ‘pendulum‘ swings to the extreme of one side or another, we enact periods of greater activity and expression of dynamics.

As the pendulum moves toward the lowest point of its swing, we spend less time being outwardly active and more being inwardly active, (which is physically passive but may not be so passive mentally or emotionally).

The natural law of this energy in the physical world is to maintain momentum.  So that once the energy reaches its peak on the outer edge of the swing, it is meant to change direction and move through the lower part of the swing (and through the passive energy phases), until it begins to swing in the other direction, into outward and dynamic activity again.

Amid this motion, we do have some control over what happens.  Therefore, we can push the active (at the side, or peak) energy or the passive (at the middle, or valley) energy phases to stay far longer in those positions than they should naturally be doing.

This causes imbalance, and when imbalance happens during the swing, it takes some effort for the ‘pendulum‘ to re-establish rhythm.

Try using a real pendulum hanging from your hand.  Set it in motion until it’s swing is going well, and then try to keep pushing it to one side.

Yes, I know this is nigh impossible to do, physically.

(In metaphysical terms there is no such thing as ‘time and space’, so try to think of what happens as if it is showing up more effectively than the fraction of a second it actually seems to do).  

You can, however, see the effect I’m talking about when the pendulum breaks from the harmonious swing it had, jerks about and becomes erratic in its swing, because of your forced interruption.

In the terms of our own lives, spending too much time being active and dynamic, and pushing ourselves beyond a need for rest and rejuvenation, can cause physical, mental, or emotional imbalance and setback.

Then ‘something happens(the ‘law of consequences’) to force us to regain balance (and to get the pendulum swinging properly again) – like illness or accident, quarrels that ‘let off steam’, or even dramatic life changes that we didn’t expect.

Getting stuck too long in the passive middle phase of the ‘pendulum swing’ and barely moving at all – perhaps because of fears and worries, lethargy or apathy – can also cause ‘something‘ to happen to establish harmony and balance, as the ‘pendulum‘ tries to get swinging properly again.

The way to avoid these problems and difficulties is to learn to ‘go with the flow‘, to let the ‘pendulum’ swing as it needs to, change direction as it wants to, and to spend only so long at the bottom as it must to get through to the other ‘side‘.

That’s not so easy for most of us to do.  It takes a lot of discipline and presence of mind to not only allow yourself to adopt a ‘go with the flow‘ attitude, but to actually do it – to not resist, react, or assert. 

It’s human nature to be all or any of these modes at times (resistant, reactive, assertive).

When we are ‘on a roll‘ and in the midst of dynamic activity or thought processes, we don’t always want to stop or change direction.  We want to complete the tasks we have set ourselves, finish the projects we began, or resolve a train of thought.

We thus ignore the warning signs and keep on going.  That’s when the ‘law of consequences‘ sets in.

I’ve been ignoring my warning signs for some time…

I ignored being tired so I could keep working on my list of tasks.  I ignored pain and bruising (I couldn’t even remember how I got it), so I could keep pushing through my work load.

I even ignored the signs that were more ‘in my face’, such as my computer persistently ‘jacking up‘ when I wanted to be doing tasks on it – and such as the damage to my toe after I dropped a lump of roasting meat on it from the fridge (noted in a previous blog) in my hurry to move through a break period to cook a meal and get back to work…

Things came to a head last weekend, when we had our market stall.  It’s only once a month, but is always a ‘difficult slog‘ when you’re already taxed by the normal running of things, and because it demands different sets of muscles to be put to work…

(Hiking those heavy marquees and tables in and out of the trailer is quite different to dealing with stock on our shelves).

My hubby was already tired.  My son was busy with his lovely daughters for the weekend.  So I pushed myself to the limit (or actually past the limit, as it now evidences) by getting only two hours sleep before socking myself into preparation – packing, hauling, setting up, and then ‘spreading the light’ by being engaging with our market visitors all day long.

I made it through the day okay, but by pack up time my brain was in ‘freeze’ mode.  I couldn’t remember what went into which box, and could only be thankful that my efforts had given my husband a rest because he was able to take over from that point.

All has come to a head.  I was forced to take some time off work.  That’s why my blogs came to a halt.  Pure exhaustion!

Right now, my pendulum is barely swinging at all…

(Don’t worry, it will circle for a while and come back swinging again, once it has a firm direction in mind.  This blog, methinks, is the beginning of that…).

I’m not going to promise I will be as prolific in writing this blog as I have been.  (I may or I may not, depending on my ‘swing’).  Because, for now, I think it’s far more sensible to ‘go with my flow…

Even healers need healing.


Lianne in an Earth Magic Sun Hat
Lianne in an Earth Magic Sun Hat

Lilipily Spirit – Empower Your Life, Connect with the Divine


photo courtesy of
photo courtesy of

Just over a week ago, I took a defrosted piece of roasting meat out of the fridge to cook. (It was in a sealed plastic bag). It slipped off the plate I’d defrosted it on and dropped onto my bare foot.  (I’m often barefoot at home).  I thought nothing of it.  The meat was soft.   It only caused a bit of pain.

Quite soon, the nail on my big toe turned grey-blue.  I knew then that the meat had caused more of an injury than I had realized, but I still thought nothing of it.  I just assumed that the injury would process, that my nail would go black and fall off, and that I would be in pain for a while but all would be well.

I haven’t stayed off my feet since then.  I’ve kept working.  I’ve been going out, and walking around, albeit with shoes on that were comfortable for my sore toe.

I didn’t give myself any healing energy because I thought all would be okay.  Such things are part of the normal processes of life, I told myself.  Accidents happen and we deal with them.  Nature has it’s own healing processes and all we need is time to allow it to do its job.

All hasn’t been okay, though.  My toe has got worse.  It is now twice the size of my other big toe.  The nail is trying to delaminate but is still held firmly in the quick.  I’ve got extreme redness in the flesh of the toe at the base of the nail and it’s developing darker tinges that have me concerned.

I finally decided to give my toe some healing energy last night… I used a piece of black tourmaline to boost the energy and take the poisons/inflammation out.  The tourmaline got so hot I was surprised.  I got a whiff of flesh that was not nice at all.  (Then I really got concerned…)

This morning, I picked up the tourmaline to try again, and the lump of pyrite that has long clung to the outside of the shaft peeled off.  I was so surprised.  It has been well melded to the tourmaline since I first got it.  I thought it was actually embedded in it.  The funny thing is that the pyrite piece now looks like a delaminated big toe nail…

Today, my foot began to feel stiff and achy.  I realized that something much more is going on with my toe than I thought at first.  When I massaged my foot, I found a large swollen area in the underarch.  I thought, the lymphatic system is trying hard to move the bad elements out from the toe to recycle them.

I gave the foot more healing, this time without the tourmaline.  The extreme heat from my hands meant to me that this injury really does need attention (and so I felt a bit foolish because I have pretty much been ignoring it).

My great grandmother died when my Nanna was only 13 years old.  She got septicemia (blood poisoning) because of a scratch she just ignored. (Admittedly, she was a scotswoman living on a pioneer farm in rural Australia, where doctors were a rarity).  It’s not something I really want to be doing to myself, though.  I had to shake my head.

When others need healing, I am always there for them, trying to make things feel better and to speed up the healing process.  When it comes to myself, I am not so assiduous.  I’m not sure why.  It’s not like I don’t have the knowledge, or the tools to help myself, but I tend to take things on as being ‘par for the course.’  I tend to think of illness and injury as being ‘part of life’.  I tend to take on such suffering as a normal process that I have to be philosophical about.   (At least, when it comes to myself).

I probably have very bad habits, therefore, when it comes to my own healing.  My body is assailed by so many disorders (‘par for the course’ with many healers and empaths, since so much is absorbed from surrounding environs), that when a new one comes along, I just ‘pop it in the basket‘ with the others and ‘keep on keeping on’ living.

I don’t like going to the doctor.  Most often, in the past, when I did go, I was told I was already dealing well with the issue, and to keep on doing what I’d been doing.  (I used to be very good at treating my health when it was out of balance and I do keep a well stocked medicine/herbal cabinet, not just for me but for all my family). It was rare that I needed further help, (other than an occasional prescription for antibiotics when all else had failed).  So in the end I just began to think that I should just accept the things that happen, and deal with them.  I told myself that if an emergency came along, then I would go to the doctor.

The trouble with that is that sometimes you’re not sure exactly what is an emergency, and when you start embedding the attitude that illness is ‘par for the course’ in life, you can start forgetting to look after yourself effectively.

In my instance, it gets hard to know if my natural healing energies will bring about the amazing turnarounds that have often happened in the past if I just wait things out, or if I should be getting concerned enough to seek the help of others, now… (Is a whiff of smelly flesh an emergency or will the flesh heal itself given time?)  I don’t like bothering doctors when I can heal myself.  They’re busy helping those who can’t help themselves…

Okay, so this time I think I will go see the doctor, after all – at least to make sure my toe is not gangrenous or causing a blood or lymphatic infection.  Metaphysical healing is not always the answer, and not when I left it this late to do something about the problem. Even metaphysical healing needs time to be efficacious.

Perhaps there is a reason that I have not healed so well this time.  I haven’t seen my doctor for ages and she knows I have lots to ‘keep an eye on’.  Sigh.  The universe is probably just making sure I keep in touch.


Update: It’s the same day, and because it is a public holiday right now, my doctor is not available. I’ll still go to see her tomorrow, just to make sure all is okay, but an interesting thing happened tonight (I wrote the main body of this in the morning). My foot was aching, so I took another look at it. The nail had lifted even more, so I gently pressed on it and tried to ease it out from the quick.  I was able to get a toothpick underneath at the top, and pricked it just enough to make it bleed.  The blood has poured out.  The pain has eased, and my nail is no longer black. (I left the nail alone after it bedded down again and started looking pink). While the toe is still red, all is looking suddenly good!  So I put calendula cream (for the bruising and inflammation) on the skin surrounding it, along with some methyl salicylate (for pain).

As usual, the healing sped things up.  Time still needed to pass, but I can tell you I’m feeling a lot happier now.  I suspect that by the time I get to the doctor, there will be little left to do but wait for Nature to finish the job… (Ah, the human condition gets to us all… I should have known better, since the energy was so blazing hot.  Thank you for your help, dear angels!  I have no doubt that this time I was assisted.  My own energy is not usually that fierce…) 

Lilipily Spirit – Empower Your Life, Connect with the Divine

River Fire

River Fire 2014On Saturday, the 27th of September, we traveled to pick up my disabled son’s girls for his access period of half of the school holidays.

Often, at this time of the year, we pass through the city of Brisbane on our way back home. The ending of a two week long arts and culture festival with an event called ‘Riverfire’ is on at this time, but we usually pass it by because by then we are getting very tired after such a long round trip to pick up the girls.

(One has dyed her hair purple, again…I miss her blonde locks).

This year, we picked them up earlier in the day, so we spontaneously decided to stop at Southbank and see how we fared in energy.

The trouble was that we’d taken our dogs with us in the car, so we were not allowed to enter the barriered precinct of Southbank.

(Dogs are allowed in the parklands at any other time of the year, but apparently not during main events. I wish we’d known that before we parked our car, after taking an hour to find a space).

So, after grabbing some lunch at a dog friendly cafe (we had to sit outside), we walked in the hot sun toward Kangaroo Point and found a spot near the Maritime Museum, far from the madding crowd and the music blaring on speakers where the main viewing could be had.

(My husband actually walked all the way back to our car and moved it, after we found another parking space closer to where we ended up… which was very lucky when most street parking was closed off and we couldn’t enter the ‘park and pay’ areas with our dogs).

We actually got a nice bit of grass on a slope overlooking the river, and then proceeded to sit for the next five and a half hours, (during which time we got crowded in by other spectators), until the spectacle we’d decided to view finally happened.

By then, the girls were restless, my back was sore, and my bum was so numb that even I was wriggling…  I hadn’t prepared well for this impromptu event, though we did bring a couple of blankets and travel pillows from the car and some water bottles, plus a nearby kiosk sold us nearly stale popcorn and flavored fairy floss (so we got high on junk food until they also fried up a sausage sizzle).

I was surprised at how well behaved the girls actually were, apart from a near incident when they began throwing small twigs at each other. Of course, cuddly me became the back rest for one of the girls and my hubby, but I did enjoy the snuggle.

When the defence force flyovers began, with helicopters and jets almost ruining our eardrums, we soon began perking up – and when the fireworks lit up the sky at just after 7 p.m. it really was worth the long wait. I couldn’t believe that the fireworks went for over 20 minutes!

We were limited to the section we were sitting at, so could not see the full snaking river length lit up with fireworks (which is why it is called ‘Riverfire’), as the top of tall buildings, bridges, and floating pontoons all blast color into the sky, and we could not hear the music that set the background for this visual feast but it was superb, anyway.

I was brought to mind of how much of life is so easily put aside because we get tired, or are in pain, or dealing with serious or draining issues that mean we feel we have little left to bring to events such as this.

I excused our non-attendance for so many years because of these types of issues, and backed that up by saying that you never saw the fireworks well from beside the river, anyway, because of all the drifting smoke. (Yet the place where we sat didn’t have this problem). I also kept saying you see it all better on television. (I thought I was being practical).

When we lived in Brisbane city many years ago, we regularly walked to Southbank on these nights, (didn’t have to worry about parking, then), and thoroughly enjoyed ‘Riverfire’ with our own children. Watching my grandchildren go silent and seeing the sky lit up like that made me remember that television has nothing on reality (I now admit).

The girls have got me thinking about attending next year – but with better planning and preparation. There were people next to us sitting in fold out chairs, eating hot chicken and tapenade, and having a nice glass of wine… I think I can do that! (The girls think so, too).

Click here to see the video clip.

I hope you like it.


Lilipily Spirit – Empower Your Life, Connect with the Divine