May Sunday 2020

Photo by Bcny on Pexels.com

Puddle of Sunday calm
Gem of weekend charm
Dollop of soul felt balm
Light keep the lonely warm
Magic prayer within my palm
True essence life transform

© REDCAT

Gave myself a long weekend of publishing, let the writing come on it’s own. Made some extra time and space to meditate. Grateful for a “normal” Sunday in unnormal times. And heading into the tenth week of social distancing, I really needed that. A hint of life going forward, not standing still, huddling. A hint of summer to come. A hint of normalcy.


Photo by Immortal Shots – Real Life on Pexels.com

Witches Walpurgis Night Preparation


In preparation for tonight
When we bask in warm firelight
Celebrating the return of spring
Releasing old patterns within
We scrub and clean fresh
House and yard, mind and flesh
So when we light the fire tonight
We offer our old self to the light
Rejuvenating in the energies of spring
Manifesting what we keep deep within
Restarting life afresh
United heart, soul, mind and flesh.

© REDCAT

Tonight is Beltane, for my three Nordic Witches it’s Walpurgis Night, when finally spring has arrived. Another Christian celebration hiding a much older history. It’s usually also the last cold period before balmier temperatures reach this far north.

I wrote this before reading today’s GloPoWriMo prompt, but no surprised the return of the three lead me directly on prompt with something that returns yearly.

Here you can read more about The Three Witches.

Public domain

GloPoWriMo 2020

DAY 1 – Build a New Start
DAY 2 – Beloved Bookstore
DAY 3 – Sunshine and Hail
DAY 4 – Isolation Dating
DAY 5 –Staring out a Windowpane
DAY 6 – Casanova Comes Closer
DAY 7 – Swirling Colors of my Mind
DAY 8 – White – Red – Black
DAY 9 – Different World After
DAY 10 – Spring Hay(na)ku
DAY 11 – Love – Hay(na)ku
DAY 12 – Make Art – Triolet inspired
by Neil Gaiman and Chris Riddell
DAY 13 – What did you think would happen
to a child left on my doorstep?
DAY 14 – Ballad of the Lost Poet
DAY 15 – Writer’s class – Hay(na)ku
DAY 16 – What is a Nomad without a Tribe?
DAY 17 – Pale Spring, Here Again, Nature Awake
DAY 18 – Spring Day in the Garden
DAY 19 – Close Couplets
DAY 20 – Lost in Love’s First Flush
DAY 21 – She Tasted Like Memory
DAY 22 – Struggling Mind
DAY 23 – Written in the book of dust
DAY 24 – At the end of every week, Friday-Cozy!
DAY 25 – Slip, Crack, Shatter
DAY 26 – Humans Really Don’t Know
DAY 27 – April Rain
DAY 28 – Greeting the Watch Horse
DAY 29 – Letter of Hope
DAY 30 – Witches Walpurgis Night Preparation

Change Time


Every time today I sit to write.

Change your story. Change your life.

Everyday rudely break my line.

Change your life. Change your story.

Supply adding distract to inner strife.

Change your story. Change your world.

There’s just one more little thing.

Change your world. Change your story.

Needed as both mother and spouse.

Change your story. Change your life.

Finally steal a moment to write.

Change your life. Change the world

My mind filled with incessant chant.

Change the world. Change your chant.

Let your inner voice be heard.

Change your life. Change the world.

© RedCat

Intense Meditation, Week 3

© RedCat

In group this week we got introduced to finding and/or meeting our inner Compassionate Self, who are signified by acceptance and kindness, non-judgment, stability and strength, warmth and wisdom. Or in other words, to find that inner archetype, open communication with that higher inner Self.

We we’re given home work to read every day for a week. I managed two times. This exercise is as hard for me as the Safe Space meditations.

Today I went back to it, putting on my bedroom wall, where seeing will become reading. So I can approach it slowly over time, instead of not doing it, because it gives a PTSD inducing, trauma connected reaction.

I also stole myself a few minutes alone, so I could talk about an insight around the reason for getting panicky when meditating, or drop down tiered after yoga. (More about that in a coming post.) It goes against open honesty within the therapy group, but since several of the participants have shown the reaction I know so well, I thought it better not to upset the pot.

© RedCat

I’ve mentioned journaling combined with meditation before, and as of last week I have a Meditation Journal. So far it contains some Compassion Focused Therapy theory, notes from a meditation podcast, some meditation tools, meditation inspired poetry, and most importantly I note how my practice is going, how it affects me, thoughts and insights.

I’ve kept meditating 2-3 times a day, so most mornings, a walk during the day, and going to bed at night. The last one especially have helped me. I no longer toss and turn for hours, or need to resort to sleep medication, which leaves you muddled the next day.

Read
Intense Meditation, Week 1
Intense Meditation, Week 2

The road might be long and windy,
but with will and intention
we can make the journey the point,
not an unforeseeable future goal.
©RedCat

Open, Accept, Surrender

© RedCat

Breath deep – breathe slow
Open inner celestial gate
Immerse in moon glow

Reveal wretched, abysmal mental-state
Hunted, wounded, all trust broken
Never again pristine whole slate

Accept heartbreak, sorrow, disconnect
Bars of deepest depression
Acknowledge all hurts unspoken

Left no safe sacred bastion
Warlock razed every wall
Drenched soul-well in poison

Surrender at rock-bottom, reveal all
Breathe, be, trust
Hear inner wisdom call

She will guide you dearest
To that space where you begin
Renew energy, life, lust

Return to searching mystic discipline
From breath to heart to soul
Replenish all needs within

© REDCAT

Another piece inspired by my meditation. It haven’t escaped my attention that several of my last pieces revolve around the same theme. (That’s why I’ve given them the same image.) I have no intentions in getting caught in a loop, but there is something that wants to be told, and apparently I’m not all the way there yet.

Posted as response to Weekend Writing Prompt #145 – Abysmal hosted by Sammi Cox. 93 words with a Terza rima scheme.

Sunshine seal my vow

John Bauer

Wandering through colonnades of majestic pine
Hidden shadowy underworld
Stabbed through with shafts of silvery shine
Ground-mist seething, furl and unfurl

Crescent moon upon my brow
To east where light return
Sunshine seal my solemn vow
Trust your guidance and wisdom to receive hearts yearn

Faint I feel the Goddess response
Live life guided by true hearts desire
Prepare for an upheaval, life renaissance
Follow the path that your muse inspire
Love, laugh, follow foolish ideas now and then
Rest assured you have the lionheart strength
Find those moments of zen
Have faith you know your souls wavelength

© REDCAT

Wrote the first draft of this a few days ago. Since then I’ve wrestled with editing the piece. By know I don’t know if I doubt this piece because something is missing, or because there is some internal upheaval in my life right now. Usually I don’t have trouble – letting a piece go – and hitting the publish button, but this time I do.

So some feedback would be gladly accepted, be it good or bad.

I never knew, or dreamed, I would write poetry, so this is a learning experience to discover and hone my craft.

Inspiered by Kerry’s Skylover Wordlist for February
Also posted to Celebrating OLN from San Diego! at dVerse.

Once I couldn’t breathe

Panic-attack by George Grie

Once I couldn’t breathe. Lungs felt constricted, small. Deep breaths weren’t possible. With shallow breath, came fear, panic. It could strike anytime, anywhere. Panic-attacks really can feel like dying. You can’t breathe, heart beats painfully, reality narrows down to a gauntlet of worst nightmares.

I became obsessed with avoiding. Perpetually on my watch, fearful of anything that awoke the panic. Eventually I became a nervous wreck, who couldn’t face public commuting, certain neighborhoods or going to my childhood small-town.
Life dwindled.

One day, a wise woman, asked how my breath was. First the question made little sense, but eventually I realized I didn’t breathe deep, with my stomach. The way I learned as a singer. Retraining, I discovered a connection with true-self, a path to less stress.
Possibility of self-love.
My voice.

There are moments between heart-beats.
Between breaths.
Wherein lies lifes true meaning.

© RedCat


I’m back to turning my life into prose or poetry. Here in just 144 words, I try to tell how full fledged anxiety and/or PTSD induced panic-attacks feel, what they do to you, and what I found to help me.

This is also much on my mind since I’m back to doing breath-exercises. It seems I have more to learn in this area too. Especially relating to breathing, meditating and self-compassion.

Posted in response to Prosery: Between Heartbeats.

Breathe deep, Breathe slow


Close your eyes
Breathe deep
Breathe slow
Go to that wholly safe inner place

Relax there
Breathe deep
Breathe slow
Remain safe and secure in your sanctum
Notice
There are moments between breaths
There are moments between heart-beats

Steady yourself
Breathe deep
Breathe slow
Size the moments betwixt and between
Attune yourself to that innermost voice
That force of true self

Be present
Breathe deep
Breathe slow
Discover your inner light
The divine spirit.
Guiding inborn radiance

Bask in sunlight
Breathe deep
Breathe slow
Release all your pain, suffering, struggle
Find solace in compassionate safety

Be safe
Breathe deep
Breathe slow
Fortify yourself for the journey ahead
Ground yourself in wisdom and faith
Know your inner worth, strength, love, kindness

Be you
Breathe deep
Breathe slow
Make your peace with the ego-materialistic modern society
Realize, living your true self will be seen
as the most dangerous thoughts of all

© REDCAT

I’ve written before about my current depression, and my fight to get real help. The machine of Swedish mental healthcare are, let’s say glacial, in it’s pace, and tend to favour pills over therapy.

Even so, while pondering which approach to therapy they might grant me. They asked if I’d participate in group Compassion-focused therapy (CFT). And I said yes, so now I’ll do eight weeks of CFT. So far, beyond trying to explain our emotion regulation systems, it’s mostly been light meditation and breath work. Which stand as inspiration for this piece.

I’ll be back to the subject of compassion and CFT later.

This weeks earthweal prompt has to do with finding hope. And even though my mind keeps spinning around the subject in all its forms, nothing coalesce and really takes shape. More work required obviously.
So instead I wrote about what helps me feel hope right now, which is meditation and breath-work.

Also posted to Tuesday Writing Prompt Challenge–February 18, 2020.

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