DREAMING UP ANGER

In the day I seek the light and shun any fears or darker parts of myself aside. I become a great actress with my lines memorized for each and every situation I will encounter that day. It’s how I have learnt to survive in this world.

But at night I enter the darkness and I travel with my dreams into the realms of fear, truth and the many different facets that make me up as a women. 

Last night I dreamt that I moved into a home high up on a hill in the country. The grass was all dried up and the colour of wheat. The air was heavy with humidity. Everything seemed so still. I stood at the doorway of my cottage and peered through the waves of heat at a path that cascaded down the hill. Two people began to approach. As they got closer I could see it was my ex husband and a women who has hurt me in waking life immensely. Even now I still feel the daggers she has left in my back. I was wearing a pretty white dress with a red and white polka dot apron over the top. My hair was out and although I looked soft and feminine a staunch power was surrounding me. My ex-husband stopped and lent on a rock, lit up a cigarette, tilted his head and with a jerk of it he ushered for the woman to approach me. I narrowed my eyes and kissed my teeth. There was no way I was going to let her anywhere near my home. I then realized I was holding a large stick that was carved with all sorts of traditional  Maori patterns. My knuckles began to turn white with the grip I had around it. I stepped through the doorway and in a large, strong and commanding voice I bellowed, “Get off my WHENUA!” (Whenua is the Maori word for land and also placenta.) I said this over and over again but still she walked closer to me, smiling with a smugness that boiled my blood and made me stand even taller and command even stronger for her to leave my land. We came nose to nose, woman to woman and stared each other down. “LEAVE.” I said, with such ferocity that she backed up. Though she still smiled that smug smile. I turned to my right and looked over at my huge black dog that had been watching this all play out. I gave him a look that said “Get rid of her”. He slowly got up and began to snarl and growl. He walked like he was stalking her, ready to kill. She was backing down the hill now, though still reluctantly. My dog and I both barred our teeth and with a deafening bark from him and one last, “Get off my Whenua!!” from me. The woman finally disappeared.

So much self-doubt and confusion has been swirling around me but dreams like this let me know I’m travelling in the dark to seek the darkness in spite of my fears. My miraculous mind is giving me stories of the strong woman within, the angry woman within, the protector woman within and how to mend my heart in waking life using these puzzle pieces that make me up.

Our messages in our dreams are medicinal antidotes to those bigger emotions we seem to suppress such as anger. I find it hard to let the fire of anger burn in the way it needs to and to slowly snuff it out with patience and love. Instead I suppress it and let it burn in a place inside that allows its flames to lick the compassion and empathy right out of me. This is why my dream time is so important. Especially as a mother with very little time in the day to get quiet with myself, I wait until the moon is high and in front and behind my eyelids is darkness. It is then all masks are taken off and my script is left behind.  It is then I slip into the work of spirit.

A x

MONDAY MOTHERLY WISDOM - MOTHERHOOD IS A SPIRITUAL PRACTICE

I think everyday we are presented with moments to deepen our spiritual practice and to tune in with God. We think we need a flash yoga mat and pretty leggings. We think we will only find enlightenment by sitting upon a mountain and meditating for hours, for days or years. We seek spirituality outside of ourselves and we look for it in other peoples lives. 

It is no secret that motherhood is all consuming of time, energy and at times our sanity! But, what if motherhood was our yoga? What if we could use it as our spiritual practice? By nature mothers have a deep desire to feed their newborn baby at the breast. Giving her life sustaining nectar to a person that really does no know her. This is compassion and love. In fact, we show compassion and love on a daily basis without even realising it. Think about what you did today. You fed, bathed, cleaned, cuddled, kissed, played, worked, soothed and set about unconsciously enhancing the life of another. The basis of spiritual practice is serving others, showing compassion and connecting with something greater than ourselves. This is motherhood! 

If we look to our long arduous days of caring for our small humans with an awareness on nurturing and cultivating our spiritual practice through them, I believe, something magical might just happen. You see, I have begun doing this . A week ago I was strung out, completely drained from the sleep deprivation and complaining on a daily basis that I never get time for ME. But since I have changed my perspective and begun seeing every opportunity with my children to learn and practice my spirituality and faith, my days are no longer met with wondering how far away bed time is . They are fuller and there's a lightness to them. I am still tired but the anger and hopelessness has been stripped away. I still get frustrated at my toddler when she doesn't listen to me (ever!!!) but I'm learning to question my reactions and to practice more patience. I would still like time to myself but I am finding quiet moments amongst the chaos to drop down from my mind and into my body and to just breathe.

Now you may be reading this and thinking "A spiritual experience would be my baby taking more than a 40 minute nap and being able to pee alone!" Trust me I know how you feel! However, I have been miserable fighting what is my life. My life of early mornings, many times awoken at night, tantrums, mess and being knee deep in poo every.damn.day. I don't want to be miserable, so I have decided to live fully in the present and allow the sweetness of this act to break my heart open and release all that toxic resentment and just embrace this journey. Children are little tyrants at the best of times but they also know how to be authentically themselves, live in the moment and exude a joy that us oldies can only hope to experience again one day. 

I feel they have a lot to teach us. Our children are the perfect beings to begin practicing mindfulness, compassion, gratitude, kindness and grasping the moments when joy floods your veins and thanking God for this incredible gift of connection and for being brought back home to what is true for all of us and that is our ability to LOVE.

Astrid xx

MONDAY MOTHERLY WISDOM

In the blink of a tired eye our children have grown. Little heads coated in snowy white hair have turned into full blown cascading ruby red locks. Instead of being cocooned against your chest they seek the freedom of the fields and magical hiding places were they can be whoever they want. A fairy, an explorer, a mummy, a mystical creature dreamt up by their lucid minds.

As mothers we wish for for them to never grow up and to always be untouched by the whiplash of lifes hard hits. To not ever feel broken. At the same time we claw our hands into our frazzled hair and beg for long arduous days to be over. To not have to deal with another little person who will tear her own hair out if she doesn't get the purple cup. Who needs constant care and cleaning up after. Motherhood is quite tantric in a lot of ways. Full of dualities. We are essentially beings who are seeking answers and comfort, looking after beings who are also seeking answers and comfort. That in itself is something we must remind ourselves when we feel we are failing at this parenting gig. We are learning, always, about ourselves, the world and how to deal with all the experiences that flow into our life. We may be mothers, but we are also women, dreamers and souls wanting the fullest and most enriching lives possible. What a task this job is!

Lets try to savor the precious younger years of our children by taking an extra moment at night to nuzzle into their little heads as they fall asleep and inhale their sweet innocent aroma. Perhaps we could play one extra game of This Little Piggy and admire those teeney toes that once prodded you inside your tummy. We could spend one day a week where our phones are turned off and pack a bag with enough coffee and good food to keep us energized for a day of play outside. Include a rug and a good book for curling up under a tree when naps are needed. On the flipside, ensure you are getting that alone time with yourself. When I say alone time, I mean no one else around to talk to, not even your facebook friends. Settle into a little nook in a cafe and write out your anguish, read something that nourishes your soul and sip on a bottomless pot of deeply warming and nurturing tea.

Be good to you mama,
Astrid xx

REVENGE ON THE BOA

“Look at me. Look at my saggy tits full of stretch marks and scars. Ohhhh yea! Do you see them? LOOK!”  These were some of the first words I uttered in my introduction to Burlesque and Body Self-Confidence class. Staring into the eyes of a complete stranger I had to work my way up my body telling them to stare at all the parts I loved and all the parts I hated. My bony feet that have taken me everywhere I need to go in life, my mother’sknobby knees, my incredible thighs, my hips that had expanded to house children, my milk filled and overworked breasts, my slender neck and my face. A face I have admittedly stared into a mirror and spat how much I hated it. But here I was, commanding this stranger to look at me for all I am, flawed andimperfect and utterly ‘fabulous’.

Hold on, weren’t we supposed to be gyrating a chair in some slutty underwear whilst lip syncing some cliché Beyoncé song?Licking our lips and undoing all the hard work of our feminist sisters. Wasn’t I just here to spice up my sex life a little? As it had become about as interesting as a mommy and me group.According to our teacher, Cat, in her swirled British-American accent, “absolutely fucking not”. This workshop was not about pretending to be the epitome of what society thinks women should be, it was about creating a performance that brought out you or an aspect of you that had been locked away in societies little box of taboo.

And so the five week burlesque workshop journey began with my troupe. We were all there for different reasons but I think we all shared the same lust to embody our powerful and divinely beautiful feminine side. For me, I wanted to unlock my inner goddess who had been handcuffed by bad relationships, bosses who had berated me, women who had bullied me, people’s expectations which I’d failed to meet and a huge lack of self-worth. I also wanted to express a side of me that was lost when I became mother. My body is now shared, tugged and constantly sought after for comfort and protection. I wanted to feel like for a moment my body was my own again and I wanted to get back in touch with my sexuality.

It wasn’t easy coming up with poses and a whole routine. It turns out there is a lot more to commanding your presence on the stage than I had expected. And then I got my awkward little hands on a midnight black feather boa. It became an extension of myself and an integral part of my act as it was to be used to seek revenge on all those who had wronged me. I got to pour out all of my unforgiving thoughts and emotions into a sequence of sultry and powerful movements with that boa, that demanded therespect and presence of the space and energy in which I was creating. Sometimes it feels better than good to stop working at forgiving and to just do something that says fuck you, here I am and I’m taking my power back.

While I’m a long way off a dazzling polished performance or stripping down to nipple tassels, I catch myself now being able to look at people in the eye when they speak to me. My initial thoughts when I meet someone are no longer “they aren’t going to like me. I’m too weird, I’m too quiet, I’m too skinny and I’m not interesting enough. Save your dignity Astrid and walk away now!”. Unapologetic for who I am and what I have to offer to the world is the skin I now reside in. It has also been a gift to see the other woman in my class express and evolve a part of themselves that has been itching to get out. I went to this workshop as I was always intrigued by the Burlesque world but never did I think it would have such a profound impact on my self-confidence. So look at me. I am a fearless and beautiful goddess and I’M FABULOUS!

Astrid xx