Isle of Mull whispers

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Isle of Mull, Scotland 2017

Outlines of Duart castle drew me in with its mossy and slate colours and ancient architecture. Like a hand of times long gone it stretched out to me across water standing in the rain on a ferry. Greens, pale blues and grey surround my senses and my heart leaps towards the land at a distance. I smell pines as I step off the ferry and quiet, oh so quiet. A bird tweets, invisible, and I catch the sound as a welcome home. My feet plant comfortably into the soil and I feel like running towards the forest, sea and be swallowed up by thundery sky overhead. I love the rain here. I barely notice it.

I know the place I want to go to, near Loch Don, not far, a piece of paradise silenced into simple yet magical beauty. A white cottage on a hill with deer surrounding it curiously poking their heads from behind its worn walls. Roses in the garden covered in glistening drops nicely quenched. I take my shoes off and walk towards the garden fence. Silence goes through me and I feel like flying. Next I want to melt into the place and become a stone, a blade of grass or a shell lying on a loch’s shore. Nowhere else I feel more a part of something beyond myself and deeply grounded in my own body. Here I remember who I am. That question gets answered every time the island calls and every time is like the first time I find myself again. It scares me how quickly I get lost when apart from this soul land and every time when it takes me back in I am born again. The process is both painful and ecstatic, distorted and transformational. It can be tiring too yet I wouldn’t change any of it. Wind’s gentle breath brushes my cheek and I inhale deeply the clean air from the land’s lungs. I fear to lose it, not to be part of it always, but I know that I find home here every time and that is hopeful, sweet, ‘balsam to a wound like’.

The house was to be sold and I am here to either say good bye to it or possess it for eternity…

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This came to me this morning just before Yule and I am so glad of it. There’s a promise in my vision.

Don’t forget to pay attention to your visions and intuitive glimpses during this beautiful time of darkness.

Intuitive blogging/writing

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This practice unfolded for me over the years revealing such gems from within my unconscious, which very often would align with what is needed generally in the world at any given moment. What a gift our intuition truly is. It takes us places wonderful and magic, which then lead to more magical experiences and connections. Nowadays there is no other way for me to write, but from the soul, spontaneously uttering words, which are ready to be spoken.

I also always find later on at some point, someone comes along, who clearly needs to hear that message I blogged about at one point or another and I can go to that piece and share it with the person in need passing on my experience whether it is an exercise, spell or some psychological healing technique or exploration. It can also be images. Most people seeing beautiful images of nature and landscapes immensely. I have many natural ones unfolding through each season. Combined with intuitive writing pieces it is a feast for the eyes, ears and heart.

It feels wonderfully embracing to be able to express myself, most of the time spontaneously, as these things come up in me at random moments. Sometimes it is one blog a month, other times it is up to five blogs a day. I go with whatever is presenting itself, as I consider it important to express whatever knocks on the door of my awareness and present moment consciousness. This practice can be applied to journal writing, novel or story writing, notes writing and magic spells anything that appeals to you or calls upon you in the moment. Intuitive Spell Working e-guide 

Intuitive blogging is one of the most natural ways to tune into the energy of your surroundings and an opportunity to release something ready and ripe from your unconscious, which through writing becomes conscious. It is as if you are digging the Earth and suddenly you come across a small shoot of a plant, which needs water to grow. That’s the moment you sit down and ‘pour’ your expressive juice upon that seed seeking light and when it is finished very often there is a flow, there is clarity, there is purpose, most of all purpose, to the piece you have created. Whatever you write about is never lost, it is stored in the container of that expression in a moment, which is within the universal consciousness. Someone somewhere will need and find it one day and if nothing else you would have spent a few minutes beautifully answering your soul’s calling through writing.