Archive | February, 2012
28 Feb

The wonderful Dalai Lina has posted loads of links to free guided meditations. I thought I’d share them with you. Be sure to jump over and check out the Dalai Lina blog!

Dalai Lina

I hope you all are liking the 21-day Meditation Challenge! I have been loving it (I especially love Deepak’s voice) and only have the criticism that I wish they were longer!

 

Many of you have told your thoughts to me personally, but put them down in the comments so others get an idea of what it is like!

 

In the mean time, I was thinking that when the 21 days are over, you may be wondering how to keep up your practice? If you enjoy guided meditation, here are three ways you can get your hands on FREE audio files!

 

1. Podcasts

 

Did you know that there are dozens and dozens of FREE guided meditations through the iTunes?

 

Search for meditation in iTunes. This will bring up all possible forms of meditation, so you will want to filter by media type by selecting “podcasts.”

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Wordless Wednesday – weekly inspirations

22 Feb

Source: tumblr.com via Monica on Pinterest

Source: twitter.com via Bella on Pinterest

I try…regressing into a past life

20 Feb

If you had told me six months ago that I would experience past life regression therapy, I would have thrown my head back in laughter and asked you to pass me another Mint Slice. But since I’ve become more spiritually open, I thought I would try a session with Sydney practitioner Sharon Cavill.

I entered the Newtown studio a little wary of what would unfold. Would I spin around in a circle, clucking like a chicken? What if negative, detrimental memories bubbled up and boiled over? Or, what if it simply didn’t work?

Sharon put me at ease by explaining that even the most uncertain people are able to tap into their subconscious state during a session. She explained that I’d be guided into a deeper, more soulful level through a use of hypnotherapy and healing techniques.

As she spoke in a soft, sweet voice and I settled into the soft sofa, I began to relax. Sharon’s soothing sound lulled me into a comforting space, where I knew I couldn’t be harmed. The trucks that thundered down King Street blended into the background and became a distant soundtrack to the session. All was quiet. My mind was still.

Hurrah! For once, I wasn’t thinking!

Guided by Sharon, I imagined myself drifting away from the room and floating on a fluffy cloud into the atmosphere. Earth was soon a tiny speck below and I was surrounded by the endless universe. My cloud floated towards a current that carried my life up to this moment. I moved onto the current. Everything slowed down and I felt like I was wading through marshmallows.

We dipped into three happy moments in my childhood. There I was, riding my beloved horse Grasshopper along the sand dunes in Western Australia. Warm tears slid down my cheeks as I relived that feeling of freedom, of pride, as we meandered in the beach-side bush. When I had fully felt the moment, Sharon had me glide away and return to the current and my cloud. I ventured into two earlier memories and smiled as I relayed to Sharon what I was seeing, feeling and doing.

And then I drifted further down. Gradually, I was pulled to a deeper state of awareness. Or non-awareness. It was like a deep, vivid dream in which you know you’re dreaming, but are still absorbed in that realm.

A distant voice asked me to picture a bundle of past lives floating in front of me. I was to gravitate towards one. On the count of three and with a gentle press on my shoulder, I was suddenly in that past life. I was experiencing a significant moment within it.

Believe it or not…I saw myself as an old man who was presiding over an ancient village somewhere in Asia. I can’t tell you how I knew that’s who I was, but I felt consumed by that persona. As this man, I shifted in my polished wooden armchair and considered my responsibilities. People rushed around me, worried, willing me to make important decisions. I took my time. I considered everything. I pondered. I looked out of the window onto the simple, rural setting and knew I would make the right decision. In time. In my own time.

We then regressed into the man’s life and visited his childhood. I was sitting at an old wooden desk in a makeshift classroom, bursting to answer a question. My fellow students liked me and I liked to please the teacher. Life was tough, but school was fun and I took pride in being a good student.

Sharon then guided me out of the visualisation and back onto my cloud in the expanse of nothingness. She asked me what qualities the person in my past life had that I could teach Kat – my present life. I had admired his certainty and self-confidence. I craved his patience. I decided to take these strengths back with me into my life…

My life…

It awaited me back in that King Street studio.

10…9…8…7…6…5…4…3…2…

One.

I was back in the room. My arms felt like enormous weights. My eyes were closed over with dried tears. It was a strange, surreal sensation. I took a few moments to look around and take in my surroundings.

Two and a half hours had passed. It had felt like fifteen minutes.

Sharon and I chatted for a while. Slowly I was brought back to reality. And as I walked home – slowly, so slowly – I knew something quite special had taken place. While I wasn’t sure if I fully believed I had been a powerful Chinese man in a past life, I knew I had experienced that persona for a reason.

My soul had chosen it for a reason.

I am to walk my path with greater purpose.

Have you tried past life regression therapy? Have you considered doing it?

* This is an unpaid, unsponsored post.

When Valentine’s Day was cancelled

16 Feb

It’s timely that the day I emerge from three days in hell is also Thankful Thursday. I’ll spare you the icky details, though it did involve a lot of yacking and dragging my weary self to the shower and back. I didn’t even have the energy to hold a hairdryer. So as soon as my hair started to frizz up and feel feral, all I could do was chuck it under the cold tap. And then crawl back to bed, moaning and groaning and searching for The Bucket.

Valentine’s Day was cancelled. I didn’t think the fine folk at the tres posh Winery in Surry Hills would appreciate my half-dried curly mop and crinkled nightie, which hadn’t been taken off in two days. They probably wouldn’t like the gagging noises either…

So The Lad and I awoke on Valentine’s Day incredibly tired (the poor guy had been kept up all night as I took the ‘how loud can you spew’ challenge). He then put off a meeting at his new job to take me to the doctor’s and wait while I received a needle in my bum. And he didn’t even blink when I said dinner was cancelled. Instead, he brought me a single red rose and a peck on the cheek. What a man.

Now that I’m looking semi-decent (apologies to my colleagues who have been graced with my post-pukey, unpolished presence today), I am able to turn on my computer and be thankful.

I’m thankful for full health. Gastro is hardly the worst illness to have, yet it felt fairly close to death. I admire those courageous people who live with critical illness and disease every day of their lives.

I’m also incredibly thankful for having someone in my life who, after they’ve had zero sleep (thanks to me), will put off anything to make sure I’m OK.

Blessings x

The morning my soul sang

11 Feb

A little over an hour ago, I parked outside a quaint Greenwich Hill house. While I waited for the car clock to flash 10:00, my mind whirred with worry after the working week. I’ve been going over and over a lot of things lately, urging my mind to figure it all out. To get me on my path. To logically find my destiny.

I’m now sitting in front of an open window, lighter, floatier (not a word, but perfect for describing this sensation). My neck is like a spring, as my head bobbles on it, unusually weightless. My cheeks are still damp and dewy from tears. I’m tired, but not exhausted. It’s like drifting in and out of a dream; wading through a field of soft, velvety marshmallows.

How did I go from fearful fretting to this soft, soulful sensation, in the space of an hour?

The answer is divine.

A colleague recently connected me with spiritual teacher Alana Fairchild. I had watched her Natural Therapy Pages video about divine healing and felt drawn to meet with her and see if she could help soothe my soul.

I’ll admit that I was a little nervous when the car clock announced it was time to go in for my session. I’m a ‘head’ person – forever thinking. I try to meditate, but my mind always gets in the way with a merry-go-round of meandering thoughts. Pointless ones, usually! So the thought (see – still thinking!) of silencing my mind and giving my spirit some breathing space was a daunting one.

I needn’t be nervous. As I entered Alana’s home, a quiet calm came over me. Her space was warm and welcoming. She herself was kind – all smiles and lovely long curls. She led me into a small, square room. It was lit with ornate candles and intricate fabrics. A dark screen shut the world out. The world of worry.

I sat in a cushioned chair and Alana explained how the session would go. She encouraged me to relax and to speak up or keep silent, whichever I wished. She may sing, she may chant, she may ask me to repeat something. I was told this would be my soul singing, chanting or speaking through her. I nodded and told my mind to be quiet when it said, ‘I’m not sure about this. Wonder what I’ll have for lunch?’

But my soul felt safe. With my eyes closed, I gave in to the moment. Alana moved around me slowly and from time to time, lightly placed a finger over my heart, my head, my back. I visualised a golden light moving through my body. I pictured the past being released. And then I tingled. It was delicate, like little tiny lights bouncing off my skin. Something shifted inside. Alana sang and spoke about my struggles. Sweetly in a gentle melody, her comforting voice gave me a golden nugget of wisdom. It was so spot on – of course it was, as according to Alana it was my soul. Yes, my soul sang to me!  I was drifting. Not in the room, but inside myself. Just drifting a little.

And then I wept.

Warm tears slid down my face and dripped onto my chest. I was releasing something. I don’t know what (I was trying not to think!), but it was such a comfort to finally, finally let go. Out my back and out my throat my fears and insecurities surged.

And then I was still.

It was calm. I could feel my feet again. Alana brought  me back into the room and it looked different. I knew something special had taken place. It was like awakening from a dream that stays with you a while. We spoke quietly for a few moments and Alana, with her kind, soulful eyes, told me something I needed to hear. She brought up a blockage that I’d been struggling with lately. Something I haven’t blogged or written about. Something only those nearest to me know. She said it would all come clear around my 27th birthday (in about six months’ time). The camera lens would be less blurry and my destiny, my path, would come into sharp focus.

And she finished by saying with a smile, ‘Sometimes it’s good to not think so much!’

Amen. 🙂

* This is an unpaid, unsponsored post.

The night I couldn’t stop giggling

8 Feb

 

I giggled in the shower last night. I couldn’t stop; I was laughing and sniggering and giggling my head off. I could hear my housemate knocking on the door and mocking me. Which made me laugh even harder. It was one of those rare moments of absolute euphoria. It was a release.

We had been out to see my friend perform in a dimly-lit Oxford Street singers’ bar. That’s singers, not swingers (just in case you were getting excited). I had only heard him sing in snippets – a few lines at most. To see him step onto the stage, smartly dressed in a tucked-in crisp white shirt and skinny black tie, and belt out the most beautiful, haunting notes, took my breath away. He had been nervous, awaiting his turn on the small stage.  He had no reason to be. Daniel Merriweather’s Red and the Kings of Leon hit Use Somebody poured out in a slinky, soulful sound. My pocket-rocket pal is set for stardom. His name is Paul Graham. Keep an eye out for him. 😉

After Paul’s performance, a group of us headed back out onto Oxford Street for drinks and dancing. Yes, on a school night. Eep. But it was fabulous – we were all on a high from seeing our uber-talented friend rock the Supper Club. We danced and giggled and showed off and sang. Which is how I wound up still giggling and sniggering in the shower at midnight!

Friends are a blessing. They get us out of our head and open our eyes. They lift our spirits. And best of all, they leave us laughing.

Note to self: make time to be creative

5 Feb

It’s been several days since my last confession blog post. I’m a little ashamed about having neglected my lovely little blog. My creative juices have been bottled up and shoved to the back of the shelf, while life has got in the way. I’ve been busily editing at work, seeing friends (including an incredible 30th birthday overlooking Bondi Beach. Bliss!), planning my year and eating a little too much ice cream.

It’s funny, because when I’m creative and I nurture my writing, the other areas in my life seem to blossom. I’m excited at work, I’m making time to help out my friends and things just click. So why is it that I’m so easily pulled away from my passion; my creative pursuits? Since it’s something which brings me so much joy and enlivens my spirit, why do I turn my back and stay logged off WordPress for a week?

I think it’s because I view my blog and art and poetry as hobbies (I loathe that word. It reminds me of old men who spend their retired days building toy train sets. Shudder.) When I view my creativity as that thing I’ll get to when everything else has been done, sorted, organised, tidied, ticked, it’ll never be a top priority. It just stays at the bottom of the long list of things to do. Do I really prefer folding my sheets to writing a juicy blog post or listening to a meditation CD? Nup. So why am I letting sheet-folding take up my time, when my poor little blog is jumping up and down squeaking, ‘Pick me! Pick me!’

Because I’m not making time to be creative. In fact, I’m waiting until I have time. I’m hoping that I can just squeeze my creativity into a spare slot. Though it just takes a back seat, often to things that don’t really bring me a lot of pleasure.

For the important things in our life – whether it is our creative pursuits, or family, or taking a holiday – we do need to make time. Invest time. Step away from routine and indulge our desires. No one is going to give us that time. We have to choose it, seize it and use it. And when we do, look what happens! We create. We scroll to the top of the screen and realise we’ve written our first blog post in a week (well, at least that’s what I’ve just done!). We get that rush; the thrill of cracking open the bottle and letting the creative contents spill out.

Making time to create. Pursuing the things that ignite our mind and spirit. That’s what makes us truly sparkle.

So this week’s note to self is: Add ‘write blog post’ or ‘meditate’ at the top of my to do list. Only once I’ve ticked it off will I get onto less important things, like folding sheets.

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