Inspiration of the day


Humility is a natural state of being. It is what happens when the ego gets out of the way. Humility allows compassion, hope, trust , unconditional love and faith to play their role..

When we are in the state of humility we hear our inner voice. It is from here that we can align ourselves to our spirit… and connect with life.

It is through the state of humility that the ego can do what it is meant to do. 

Humility and ego are friends not foes, together they take the high road and together they allow us to become who we are desinted to become… achieve what we have dreamed of and live the life we are  meant to live… with humanity and love.

Don’t Give Up


When tides start turning,

gears start shifting,

gusting winds start blowing,

and your life feels more like commotion, unpredictability, even turmoil.

Don’t give in or give up…

it can often times be the

onset of a really wonderful dream’s alignment …

Remember, the pendulum has to swing wide and far before it finds its balance…

Harmony is near, dreams are coming true, right now in the midst of it all


Drunken Butterflies




There is this feeling you get just prior to receiving your heart’s desire – or your dream come true – or commencement of the new life you have been aspiring towards. It’s a buzzy … empty feeling. Empty because the old seems to have departed – buzzy because there is so much room within and the buzz of anticipation resounds in all the empty spaces … like drunken butterflies dancing in the dark.

But there is always a process.

Sometimes it can be a recognition that something great is about to transpire. It may be a vague feeling, a restless feeling or even a heartfelt feeling – heartfelt because you have worked hard, so hard; towards manifesting that, which you truly desire, that, which has seemed for eons to draw you close.

Sometimes it happens that dreams come to prepare you – wild and restless and crazy dreams filled with vivid images and tumultuous happenings and these dreams can leave you tumbling around in a vortex-like haze where sleep defies you and anticipation jettisons you …forge-like, through and into the next moment, day, night…

Then there is the loss. Things you once knew about your life seem to disappear – as if by no volition of yours. From the prosaic to the deeper level where they psyche reigns … people, things, jobs, interests, ideals, thoughts, habits, desires, feelings… all appear to find their demise. A sense of annihilation besets you. (Ah but it is annihilation of the old and that which no longer serves you, but that concept eludes you…leaves you numb, empty.)

Suddenly it is as if you no longer recognize your life. Remnants of your former existence appear like mirrored images against the black… blurred edges representing who you were, are, and where you have been.

Suddenly it is as if you no longer recognize your life.

Then there is the purging and the grieving – one must grieve what one has lost irrespective of whether one no longer needs it or if it is superfluous or no longer serves who you are…who you are becoming.

Then comes the hollow. That seems to be the worst. Hollow… as if all the senses are searching for the old ways, habits, thoughts, feelings, things, attitudes, people or ways of being.

[Hollow kept me awake at night. Hollow ate my food, hollow told me I was stupid, nothing, had nothing, and achieved nothing. Hollow taunted me with tales of my past and played with my doubts.

 Hollow sucked.

I fought hollow. Occasionally I tried to fill it, with all the old stuff … but it didn’t work. That stuff didn’t fit anymore. Actually I couldn’t find half the stuff. At some point I had rid myself of it.]

Then comes the moment.

That moment where the hollow settles into a state of peace. The fight is over. At some point, you had ceased fighting and maybe didn’t recognize that moment. At some point you ceased the struggle and simply surrendered. Because deep down you knew – you knew that part of you who has seen your new life, your dream, your greater you…the you that was always in the state of becoming – is there waiting and guiding and joyously celebrating all the greatness that is yours to have, to own, to share, to be.

And you take that moment and reach out.

You  reach into the surrender and into the part of you that can take you to the final step.

And the reach becomes a leap.

And you take that leap of faith, the one you often-times heard about, maybe even thought you had done many times before, but hadn’t. The leap of faith that bridges your entire existence into a moment of oneness where time and space mean nothing more than moments of bliss and everything makes sense… finally.

And in a blind moment or a dread-filled instant, you leap across the ravine, the abyss. There is no turning back… for if you do you will drop into the black of despair or you will find yourself clinging to the edge of your old life in a state of paralysis, with lamentations echoing into the eons of time.


“I held on fast and never gave up 

No matter the toil, 

I danced and sang with every jolt 

And stood against each foil, 

And so I let my dreams come true 

With every tear I wept, 

Knowing that my time was due 

In faith I stood and leapt.”


And then … victory.  Sweet, sweet victory and the drunken butterflies dance again. No longer the feeling of empty resounding anticipation. This time the buzz has a different melody. The melody of celebration, peace, bliss, unity.  And the song is your anthem, the anthem of your long awaited dreams.

And you sigh. A mammoth sigh of relaxation. And you relax into the knowledge that it is all there. Now.

You have achieved.

You are victor!

You have arrived.



“So like Sisyphus in his journey of torment 

My path has been arduous, pushing the boulder upward. 

And as the face of the Gods found merriment at his plight 

So too I suffered such scorn … my soul it does bite. 

Within the sight of hideous scorn, mockery and disdainful glee 

Like my comrade Sisyphus, I did climb the steepest mountain 

Whose peak is way beyond the highest sky – beyond the dreams of mortal men at least, 

And I stopped breathlessly upon broken knees, and to the angels I did entreat. 

With prayer in my veins and hope in my sinew, I journeyed onward 

I did traverse across all sands of time and take no shade from the glaring sun 

I did plunge the deepest sea, filled with a torrent of flowing tears 

It was then I came to triumph, over my gravest fears. 

Crimson faith led me through, bloodied by my journeys toil 

And in the mocking faces who find such mirth in my travail 

I did wield the sword of freedom, for fear is not mine to have or to own 

With a soul that is strong and a heart that is brave, victory I have sown”


The Madman

The Seven Selves

In the silent hour of the night, as I lay half asleep, my seven selves sat together and thus conversed in whispers:

First Self: Here, in this madman, I have dwelt all these years, with naught to do but renew his pain by day and recreate his sorrow by night. I can bear my fate no longer, and now I must rebel.

Second Self: Yours is a better lot than mine, brother, for it is given me to be this madman’s joyous self. I laugh his laughter and sing his happy hours, and with thrice winged feet I dance his brighter thoughts. It is I that would rebel against my weary existence.

Third Self: And what of me, the love-ridden self, the flaming brand of wild passion and fantastic desires? It is I the love-sick self who would rebel against this madman.

Fourth Self: I, amongst you all, am the most miserable, for naught was given me but the odious hatred and destructive loathing. It is I, the tempest-like self, the one born in the black caves of Hell, who would protest against serving this madman.

Fifth Self: Nay, it is I, the thinking self, the fanciful self, the self of hunger and thirst, the one doomed to wander without rest in search of unknown things and things not yet created; it is I, not you, who would rebel.

Sixth Self: And I, the working self, the pitiful labourer, who, with patient hands, and longing eyes, fashion the days into images and give the formless elements new and eternal forms–it is I, the solitary one, who would rebel against this restless madman.

Seventh Self: How strange that you all would rebel against this man, because each and every one of you has a preordained fate to fulfil. Ah! could I but be like one of you, a self with a determined lot! But I have none, I am the do-nothing self, the one who sits in the dumb, empty nowhere and nowhen, when you are busy re-creating life. Is it you or I, neighbours, who should rebel?

When the seventh self thus spake the other six selves looked with pity upon him but said nothing more; and as the night grew deeper one after the other went to sleep enfolded with a new and happy submission.

But the seventh self remained watching and gazing at nothingness, which is behind all things.

How I Became A Madman

You ask me how I became a madman. It happened thus: One day, long before many gods were born, I woke from a deep sleep and found all my masks were stolen — the seven masks I have fashioned and worn in seven lives — I ran maskless through the crowded streets shouting, “Thieves, thieves, the cursed thieves.”

Men and women laughed at me and some ran to their houses in fear of me.
And when I reached the market place, a youth standing on a house-top cried, “He is a madman.” I looked up to behold him; the sun kissed my own naked face for the first time. For the first time the sun kissed my own naked face and my soul was inflamed with love for the sun, and I wanted my masks no more. And as if in a trance I cried, “Blessed, blessed are the thieves who stole my masks.”
Thus I became a madman.
And I have found both freedom and safety in my madness; the freedom of loneliness and the safety from being understood, for those who understand us enslave something in us.
But let me not be too proud of my safety. Even a Thief in a jail is safe from another thief.


Khalil Gibran 1883 – 1931


Things I love: sun-showers.
Life can  be a bit like that. The clouds can threaten – casting shadows. The rain can fall – dampening. The darkness can permeate  – obscuring.
Yet ever-present, albeit apparently unseen, is the sun – the glorious rays of light with the power to ameliorate, ah the power to inject hope – maybe …. just in the nick of time.

Bless N Bliss

This day is blessed with beauty, freindship, (friendship = a sense of kinship, connectedness and sharing) rewards and grandeur.

I have appreciation and gratitude for this day.

(I love the word ‘bless’ … I think it is friends with ‘bliss’)

A Message For Me

Words For Change


Words for change

Somewhere Over The Rainbow