A good death story.

Tis been a while between posts. I had a thing to be with. My life was surrendered to the loving of my father for his last few months of life, as well as assisting my daughter to head off for a 5 year adventure. Please, forgive my absence, but it was well worth it.

My father had abandoned me, my 3 siblings and Mum, when I was an 11 year old. During the last 35 years I have known little of his life, his world. Only snippets that would show me he was deeply controlled by his wife, a woman the rest of his family could not fathom either. He spent one year studying up the road from Mum’s house, so he created a fake class to put on his schedule so that for three hours each week, for two semesters, he came to our home, hung out and taught me to drive a car. I was 27.

For the next 20 odd years we saw barely anything of him, till about a year ago when his wife recognized, finally, that her children (same age/older than as him) where not interested in caring for Dad. As his Alzheimer’s progressed it became time for some intervention, directing traffic on the Eastlink was a thing, so after the 8th time he was brought home by a police car or ambulance they agreed to go into aged care. It was in Melbourne, 4 hours away from me, but they were safe.

Then came the call that Dad had struck one of the staff. He was becoming increasingly combative, he was struggling, this was 6-7 months into the care, this was a change that was not going to get better. From what I gleaned from the nurse, Dad’s wife had finally shown her colours/been seen, and was often observed being very cruel and verbally abusive towards Dad, even though he was obviously quite ill now. The nurse asked me to take him away from this, from her. In so many ways, this is what the little girl in me had always wanted to do, to rescue him, to love him openly again.

So, I did all the things. I became the legal guardian, discharged him from Melbourne and set him up in Lakes 12 minutes from my home. When he first arrived he was scared. He was contracted and many felt that he had but days left. I was with him 8+ hours a day, for each bed change, for each meal. I held his hand, gave him loads of Reiki and LOVED HIM for all that I am, for all the permission I gave us both. I enrolled every nurse and aid in that incredible facility to love him too. Gently he uncurled, he softened, he smiled and winked and touched the hearts of many there.

We had six and a half weeks together. I got him a special chair so that he could go out in a taxi. I then took him to the farm, three times, so that he could share just a little of my world, Mum’s world too. We went out on a boat to see the magnificence that is the Gippsland Lakes. Shared a Skype call with his brother who he hadn’t seen in many years. In the middle of the third week, Jasmine left for the UK for the next 5 years. That was a ripping open in the middle, but met and lovingly knowing it is for the most delicious time for her!

We did all the things till it was obvious there was no more to be done. We had lost the life we could have lived together long ago, we were but collecting together the ashes of what was left. Precious ashes that I will treasure till I return them to our home, in Powell River British Colombia, Canada.

As I sent away the chair, as I held my Mum and my Sister through our last evening together, sharing stories of how Mum and Dad met, the things Mum loved the most about him, what we each remembered. Everything slowed down to a state that trusted there was no where else to be, nothing else in my life could be this important to me, to my understanding of living, than to be with my Dad in the dying.

I had been bringing in my laptop every day to watch Sci-Fi together. We had watched all of the 7 Star Wars films, we were working through the second season of Star Trek Next Gen. That morning, I forgot my laptop. It was to be a different morning. I got there around 10am. I sat with him. I sang softly. I read him some of my book. I held his hand. I didn’t stop holding his hand. I assured him he was held, he was safe. Around 12 everything deepened, the energy changed. I cast a little circle around us, just to hold us both gently in this moment. I asked for his Mother, my Granny Good Witch, to come and meet us half way. Her delicious sassy self arrived palpably. I sat with my Father, gently holding his hand as the space between the breaths became longer and longer… till there was no breath, just space. A soft and held death, beautiful in so many ways.

I howled. I howled and howled and howled. I kept holding the hand of a Man I never really knew but never stopped loving. My greatest fear for him, that he would die alone, never realized, because I chose to hold him no matter what. I called my Mum, my Sister, and they were there before I told any staff. Time of death was 12.52pm 19th of October 2016. There was to be no funeral. This was all the space we had to say goodbye in. We stayed till we walked the empty shell down the corridor, out into the hearse. His cremated ashes now rest for a while where I can glance at them to inspire my return home, May 2017. There, then, Mum and Jasmine and I will scatter his ashes with his Mum’s ashes on the property where he and I grew up.

We have so much space for our birth stories, and as I have attended about 8 different births I understand how unique each of them are. As I have lived through this last month, I have come to feel that a death story, a good death story is as important to share. Indeed, many beautiful caring and loving friends have shared their stories and it has helped to rest in the knowing of a very human threshold I have crossed, to witness the death of a parent, a next stage of growing up.

This death was a beautiful moment in time, with ALL the love in it I could hold and much more as it cracked me open, not unlike the way I was cracked open giving birth to my daughter Jasmine. So much Love. So much to Love.

I hope this good death story holds you gently.

I am grateful to have somewhere to share it.

Why do I love my bloodmind?

The path. from the moon, through the womb to the earth.

There is a whole bunch of thinking we are only just sniffing the edges of. The kind of thinking that changes everything. The being with, sinking in and listening to, of the deeper currents of being human. That maybe, just maybe we are willing to accept may be there, let alone exploring the content therein.

I understand the resistance to the place that would have value for the menstrual mind that is free. That sovereign state of being ungoverned by any outside force. Just a long slow descent into the abyss, the no form, the void… where we could live from if only we had the courage to live without form… to surrender our habits, our outer shapes and shades of knowing who we are and why we are here.

The bloodmind lets me let all of that. To listen and flow with.

You don’t tie up a puppy with steel cable. This fable, that is the worth of the blood, this story I am telling you may well be lies, but you wont know if you don’t feel it with your own eye’s, telling yourself your own lies… those stories we tell ourselves to make it all better, to be better, to better ourselves… but what if we are already enough? What if the core of this shit is that we are told from the very proclamation “It’s a GIRL” that we are the broken one, the wrong one, the one that is different from the normal.. our fail, for being a girl, and now… a bleeding woman. What if that bounty within has never been valued before, because what is the value of something you can’t sell…? Something that is only valuable to you, the owner, the one that perceived this particular part of your own freedom, that space within.

This is why I love, honour and cherish… my bloodmind. It takes me to places I don’t seem to be able to get to via cultured response. There is a real terror that when I ‘pause, I will not be able to find my way back. But, I do trust that the wisdom of taking the path there, over and over again, makes for a body memory, a muscle that has been kept in form, all I need do, is to keep using it.

Why go here? What’s the point? if you can’t sell it, If you can’t share it… oh, but yes I can share it… I can write love letters from here, to you, beautiful woman and courageous man… If you come here, seeking to understand the ways of the blood witch, to explore those realms within, to sing the sweet freedom of the tyranny of mind that would tell you what you see, rather than see for yourself what it is that you feel… That is what I am creating here, pathway to the sacredness of sensation, within. That succulent knowing of life force flowing all the ways it can, into and out of the nooks and crannies of mind, of heart, of being human.

We have a super power, each and every one of us, has an incredible super power… our attention. Where ever we put it, we are there, we are in it, we give that spot, that theory, that colour, that celebrity, that meme, that TV show, that child, that plant, that sunrise… we give it our blessed attention. And in that we have effect. We truly do have effect, what ever we bring our attention to, will be changed by the pressure of our presence, our gaze. If we give that attention an action, like a stroke of our hand, the brush of our lips, we become engaged outside of our being and create a space there, between, where all manner of magicks can arise, right before our eyes… we could paint, sculpt, forge, plant and make love… our attention taken further into an action.

Where do we place our attention? What is it worth to us? are we willing to allow it to flow within, feel for our truth of self, what we know and trust about being us, what we are still willing to learn about our self.. Tis with this empty chalice I turn and meet where ever it is that my blood mind will take my attention.

As always, with this act I serve the blood.

 

To Trust the Truth.

This is me, Sharing my Truth.

Tis a power-filled moment in time I wish to share today. It happened whilst I was teaching my Introduction to the Tarot class and it was delicious. We had made it, through all the 78 cards. We had been introduced. Each of the 4 students now had their completed decks in front of them. We had explored some basic spreads, and their purpose. We determined what would work for us to set some space, to create that “rare” area that is conducive to the Tarot read. We were there, in that moment, where the only thing left was to read. To give ourselves permission to read. I found the moment to be palpable. And then process arrived, and I am sorry that I don’t know if it was sourced from Caroline Myss or Seth Godin, but I am not sorry that the core of it has set up a home within me so clearly that I felt that I could walk us all through the center of this profound understanding of why we don’t trust our truth.

I asked everyone to remember when they were a child. When they had no reason to lie to themselves. When they knew the truth, and often spoke it, (out of the mouths of babes eh?) for as a child the notion of duplicity had not arrived. There just is when we are young enough to just be. There is a moment, an incident when you first lied to yourself, when the Truth of self became unsafe for you. When you didn’t trust it any longer, and you fabricated something to fill in the gap. We learned to make it ok. To ourselves, to each other. We placated something, someone, did what we felt they wanted us to do, told them what they wanted to hear. It was such an incredible place to hold our child within our inner gaze and witness this beginning.

Maybe we agreed that there weren’t any faeries…

We stopped knowing how to be moved by the play, and began to be governed by the external forces of our world… it was easier, to do as we were told. For almost ALL of us, were denied that opportunity to listen to our Truth. What we really want, where we really want to go, what is real for us. Wait, please before you feel yourself race off into the justification of keeping your child safe as you parented, or that place of knowing our parents did the best they could with what they had, for it is all true, all those justifications… all those things we tell ourselves to make it ok… I am there with you, but I want to give that young girl in me a chance to be heard, to feel what it is to have Her truth honoured. WOW… this is big juicy place I have stumbled into and I am deeply grateful for ALL that I have lived to create this opportunity.

As I step into the land of where this Truth lives, where I learn to trust it, with my life… I am guided, not governed and there is where the love lives… when we all moved into that spot, when we as a small group of heart warriors chose to feel our Truth’s we needed to hug, for there were lots of tears… I can only surmise that it is about coming home… unto our self… our whole self where nothing but the Truth lives.

Thanks for reading… I really needed to write that… please Share if you feel to.

 

To Hold the Account of a Vision…

To be account-able for the result of what it is you make of what it is you see.

I have finally brought forward a large overall visual of our vision for our beautiful chunk of paradise here! I am excited to feel into what is next, what do I do to serve this vision? Each morning feeling the pull towards what it is that I can add, to start where I am, use what I have and do what I can!

Then, I went and made myself accountable to my women’s circle for two big, beginning, juicy parts of this vision and its reality selection! In exploring the notions of account-ability I am feeling into what kind of support/pressure I am looking for. For this art form of witnessing what can be, and then digesting it enough to create what is, for me, this is turning on the tap! The means being the ends, the how that I get there so fundamental in what quality I live with when I arrive!

For the making real has always been the hardest part! For many years I went to the edges, to places between where we meet the essence of Her, our sacred self, and the possibility of deep peace, with… Then I went to Uni, to study this “thing” called business, this frame and form that is so very much like a knife… can be used to kill or cook with! We can bring the vision to the edge of the reality, making real, supported by the process of business, or we can sacrifice the vision to the tenets of power in business, leaving but a shell of what it is we were trying to do in the first place!

How do I serve this vision today? Well, to make account of it, to build the narrative! So, let me walk you through the core of the vision. I present here. From the center out to the right at the bottom is a 20 year planting schedule for Ginseng. I am my mothers carer for the rest of her life, I hope she will live for at least another 20 years, and this is a measure of that. The Ginseng becomes her support in so many ways as she ages. Tending this divine root crop, as it grows, I know this whole vision grows! Bio-dynamics  another core part to the maintaining of the life we choose to live. Incorporating the Homa Farming  will then have all the Elements engaged on a daily basis in that applied human capacity… showing up, to do the work.

Then there are the milking goats, bringing home my mum’s last two horses, chooks, vege patches. That overall state of growing as much as we can here, with love. Enough for us, and enough for all that arrive here to participate, in what ever way that is.

There are many buildings to be built, current buildings to be added to. From the finishing of the Crafting Studio to the making of the Great Hall, probably 3 years from now. Each step supporting the next, each addition creating a stronger equation to function from.

Right now, I build my very first crowd funding Indiegogo campaign! It is for phase one, the Crafting Studio, an Embodied Education Studio, and our bunkhouse/kitchen/bathrooms/living space for 8 beds. We are building much from the land itself, milling our own dead trees, using earth where we can, so mostly we are campaigning for the tools and a power-filled part of it is the defining of offerings we can make as the facilities are available. I will be making a lot more noise when this goes live, but consider this the warming of the drum and soft beginnings of the beat.

Can you hear Her? Is she calling you too? There will be many places and spaces to assist, this is our Helpx Host listing  if you feel like you want to come and get your hands dirty!

May your Vision move you too!!

The Gift SHE brings…

 

From the film Doomsday.

So… When my Banshee arrives, she usually has some serious shit to address. She is invoked by it. She wouldn’t be here if there wasn’t a need for her. This I know, why doesn’t he?

Sir, all Sir’s, please understand, when a woman does her hard core banshee ALL over you, when her core Fury has been expressed, this is not the time to run away and hide, this is the time to put your head on the block and let her chop it off. Seriously, this is where you get to get REAL, outside of your head, into the core physical reality of where your “relating” actually is.

For Banshee is all about what is actually happening, here and now! Not the story’s running around either of our heads. She’s almost gospel in her Truth that will be said out loud, that will no longer be held down, back or inside like a rot laying under the surface. There is a tangible honesty to it that can not be denied, and that mystical nature to the content that is so very ephemeral, yet hard as stone. To reject her on the delivery, on the loudness of her Being… is unwise. You could let her force of tornado like winds blow away any dross you had clinging to you. Or, you could run and hide from the horrible monster that you helped create.

I’m just saying… It’s about as real as it gets, and if you have no desire to dance with this then, you don’t get to dance with this! She isn’t the noise a woman makes to get what she wants… She isn’t the control drama of choice… She’s costs me to go there, for what she begins often leads where I have not seen yet.

That’s kinda the point. To create a disruptive chaos to change shit, when the shit gets so thick you’re breathing it without knowing to what level you are accepting the pain that you are living in.

Once that genie is out of the bottle, once those truths are out loud, there’s no “unknowing” it… we could try the game of lets make it all OK again, have a quick cuddle and go back to our normal programming….

Ahhh, NO. That’s why I opened my mouth in the first place… To CHANGE something about this reality.

When Shit Gets Real… May Love Prevail….The Real Honest Stuff… Living a non Hashtag life!

Grateful for what we can afford ourselves.

Deeply grateful for each hug, tear and cackle!! So many moments of real delicious sisterhood! Witnessing women affording the time, the space, the energy to tend the inner realms, the fingertips, the deep dark belly of wound and power! So many shades of goodness for all the women and girls.

I was taken to some awesome places that I am sure will unfold in my world for these next few weeks, months and years as I continue the work, here. The Swan Blessings, the Newton Method, meeting Robin from Transition Farm!! So excited to see how each of these moments touch my world.

To be witness to the amazing work of Lara and Adrienne from the Waratah Project… WOW! So very very awesome to see how far you can take something in just one year! For any woman that still wishes her voice to be heard, please fill in the survey online here!

To Lauren, Marisa, Mary and the incredible team that made the entire event possible… Thank you, so very much! What you have created is more than event, it’s an idea that’s time has come… That an entire female focus for just a weekend, to explore, celebrate, hear, hold Her… This is valid, real, worthy… For we, women, are valid, real and worthy! To immerse ourselves in the female only energy, to feel it, swirl around in it… Rare, precious and beautiful.

As always, I am grateful for every woman that joins me in a blood circle! For each woman that gives herself permission, gives it also to me to share the love and passion I have for the work I do. My offerings were so warmly received in that soft glow of women opening unto themselves. Thank you.

Many an obstacle was thrown in front of me, places to opt out, make excuse, but the firm, clear trust that I would be there, along with the loving support of choice delicious sisters, made it a given…. That Katherine Cunningham, would be sharing her blood work… AND her new voice, as a witch poet… Conjuring with word the world where being all woman is a juicy good reality for us all!

To be allowed.

Permission is it a deeply sourced or sought thing?… to find the offerings within, one truly needs to be allowed, by the self, to take the journey in.. to pay attention to the long slow gentle slide off the outer worlds importance and all the noise it makes, to sink in, turn towards that which is juicy and rich, soft and gooey… This is a necessary state to cultivate if one is to be truly whole, if one is to give oneself the key to those inner landscapes of profound meaning and value, the legends to the maps we make as we explore terrain that only we can perceive and as we do we can bring it back to you… any you, all of you, just let us go… inside.

Let me take your attention to the lands that I traverse… the ones where the blood is no longer a curse, but a sweet and juicy state of being made more real each time you give yourself permission to feel that serpentine movement of the spine that will have you decline any external invitation to be any where but HERE and NOW in the body as it rides the waves of ecstasy, knowing that this is truly the gift of living, riding the cycle as it goes ALL the way in…  deep within… like a chaos truly owned thus empowering a silence full of intense knowings.

I flow… I follow… being led… being held… attention… any tension… slipping away as there is nothing to say…time energy all lucid states… better felt without boundaries where there lives infinite eternity… This is an altered state that costs the body nothing to enjoy, there is no come down Tuesday from the after effects of a good blood high… or shall we say ride… a great blood ride may save your life, you may find out the course of the strife that your world lives in, by tending the garden within… taking time to sink inside, slow and juicy, running down the chin mango goodness that has total surrender in it, of it… this is the voice now… So grateful for the opportunity to share this, the permission I give myself is to share this, that this space here and now in my belly, heart, hands as I furiously write words to share with you, any you that can hear… there is such bounty here, wont you share?

Every woman has a belly of bounty within her… but sometimes we need to give ourselves the permission to listen, to pay our self the attention we are so generally willing to pay everyone else… please, consider yourself aloud, with full permission to explore all that is good like milk and honey are good, all that is bad like death and decay are bad, all that is solve like melting away of that last bit of resistance that is denial of who you are as a woman…. not reflection of man… but whole unto thyself blessed woman, with an offering to make to this desperately needy world, She NEEDS this, what we can feel from the Belly out… the perspective we hold from here, the understanding we garnish from being altered thus.

Each trip a shaman takes can have effect, thus we know that real magick’s have taken place… When I am given the permission to share what I know, the places I go with other women, on a big scale, like somewhere as delicious as Seven Sisters Festival, where the loving is so very very real for ALL things woman…. there, the art form that is being allowed is the the art form of being so very LOUD!

Join me this year, make it your year.  http://bit.do/sevensisters2014

#7sistersFest2014

Menstrual Wisdom, Sexual Unfolding.

Katherine Medicine… words on offer!

Every woman I have met deep in the blood work has a powerfully strong sexual presence. It’s almost like there is no holding that juju back once the door has been opened and the love of being a woman has been unleashed.  ( I got to dance with some of them on the weekend!!)

My own sexual states have been spiraling deeper and deeper within, to an ecstatic state that has me circling on my coccyx bone for hours if I create the time and space. The words that bubble up from the core of this place are good, like milk and honey are good… particularly upon the skin!

So, from this gentle permissive state… I make an offering of some work… some words that have arrived, truly, deeply, madly… in Love with the self.

(all available on mp3 here at my E-Junkie store)

The Sound of Rain by Katherine Cunningham.

An Erotic Fable is a story, a juicy story that has all the room you need to be there, yourself… as you hear the rain on the skin of the tipi…

The sound of Rain is an Erotic Fable that explores the difference between surrender and submit, power and rage, soft and hard… Let me take you to a time outside of ours, perhaps before, certainly a time to come… at least in my reality! Where we are the initiators, in the deepest sense.  When we take him all the way there, to the edge of his skin, where the mind blown away, and there is nothing left but the breath, the skin, the sweat and the fire.

The Sacred Yoni by Katherine Cunningham

A Self Pleasuring Adventure.

This guided visualization is for women, or lovers of women, to find and share with self, or another, the deep sacredness that is within The Sacred Yoni. The art form of defining one’s own reality is the deep authority to which we author our lives… WE decide what is sacred! Creating Sacred Yoni was a profound pleasure that I wish to share with you. Wont you give yourself permission to listen to the deep loving voice that will guide you all the way to the Sacred Yoni.

Opening to Awegasm.

This Self Pleasuring mp3 is designed to open a woman to her whole body gently. A great beginning place to find that soft edge to fall over.

A Self Pleasuring Adventure.

When the orgasm is elusive… when the pleasure of self has never really been explored… there sometimes needs to be a little support in the process. With this guided visualization I offer an opportunity to sink deeply into yourself, by creating a powerful state of permission.  Allow the state of being open to take to all manner of deliciousness.

If you do find yourself here… and allow yourself to purchase… maybe even place them within iTunes gallery and have a quite listen…. I would dearly love to hear how you felt…

When it is time…

My scratching of a lodge structure, the one we made with Kerryanne Ansuri.

I have been waiting for a long time for this… to wake and know today is the day. Our dark moon circle women and our children it seems too, are gathering today to build the earth lodge.  Tis an earth lodge, not a sweat lodge in that we will be enclosing it in earth over time. Wattle and daub the walls once we are truly happy with the placing, the movement of the rite. My feeling is that we are only ready now, after all these eclipses and movement in our heavens. As we ready ourselves to build such a vessel, the contents arrive. I have been holding open the space, the idea of the ritual, the notion of a Black Earth Lodge, in that I understand what its purpose is, where it would take me and any one else that would journey with me into these the dark inner sanctum of the earth. For as I was recognizing we had the means to move forward, the very first draft of a ritual that is sitting in such a lodge arrived too.

Holding open the space, to trust that there is something here, like the fable of the south american shamans sitting on the waters edge, with no idea what is making that shape in the water, for there was no reality that was a tall ship in their world, but staying with what is, even if we don’t know what it is, to be with what is in front of us… trusting that if we don’t have the language, we will will make it up… like these new deformities in Iraq that children are being born with, we will find the names to call these new and real places. My intent is to stay with what is, in earth, in the decay and death and fecundity that is black earth. To be with so deeply, so gently, so honestly so as to hear Her.

The first draft of the process looks like this: Unlike the Sweat Lodge, there is only one long deep round. We are ready, comfortable, with our feet in the center hole flat as we are able, spine straight… bum on something that is soft? maybe… I would like us to be able to descend profoundly, so we do need to be comfortable, at ease.  Once we are ready the fire keeper will bring in the warm earth and fill the hole that our feet are in. Then we close the door to the light outside and let go.

This is the beginning, we surrender ourselves. Firstly the self, the noise that is in the head, the words that are keeping us out here an not in… maybe rather than give any of it our full attention we can all just keep making the noise, what ever noise is there, in the head, in the body, keep expelling it till it’s all gone. A silence will instill itself. We will be able to reach beyond our self to the collective…

From the collective and the voice we give that, we can descend even deeper to the animal, the part of us that is a part of the earth fully, instinctively, aware of its death. All life knows it will die, thus the strong and powerful quest for life. The sapling that breaks through the concrete shows us just how determined life is to live. BUT we have been moved away from this power-filled state of truly choosing to live our lives, with that fierce determination, and I consider the fear of death to be at the core of it. (Terror Management Theory perhaps the writing on the wall of the core..)  Here in the Earth Lodge, deep within the belly of earth, I trust that there is a place to be found that will help us shed the fear of death… therein find the power to truly live, as ecstatically as we can!

The beauty of this process is the trust… that to hold open the space… we will find true purpose to live in balance with Her. If ever there was a time to find the balance to live with, tis now beloveds. Are you holding open the space? Can you hear the call to Earth? Please… Share…

Value of the Banshee.

Banshee/Cannibal From “Doomsday” the film…

There’s this joke… about men and women and relationships…. it goes like this.   Ask Ten women why their last relationship finished and they will give you a detailed map on what went wrong, where, when and what they will never do again… Ask the Ten men why their last relationship finished… they will say.., “Bitch went crazy!”

Being tarred with the Banshee brush does my head in, does yours in too… I’ve seen way too many women reduced to “crazy” when what they really are is furious, so full of fury they explode! That stuff is uber real, needing the respect we offer nitroglycerin. Normally though, what a woman will do as she feels the temperature rising is one of a few options left to her… Suck it up, shove it down, drown it out, cool it off… some of those involve eating, sleeping, swallowing, or any other form of self punishment we have conjured this week. Or sometimes we have a range of tools we use to access that rage and USE it to create the change it was sent to create.

I LOVE my Banshee… I LOVE my Banshee in my Mother and my Daughter… I LOVE it in my Sisters!  I LOVE it when the force of personal truth that will not be silenced today, will speak her total mind right now. Tis far greater than the other options. I would love to see our world where the Banshee is a valued part of every woman, where we respected her presence in a moment as necessary, as she would not be there if she was not needed. She is truly only there when she’s needed.

There is the learned emotional vomiting that many women do, the shrieking that fills your ears with dread when you hear it, but that is not what I am speaking to here. That is bad behavior, when someone has maintained the habit of making their problems everybody else’s problem… No, that is truly different to the Real Banshee. Learning the difference between the two can make a life lived in terror of our anger, or a life that has learned to harness the fire, not burn every one, mostly the self, alive… The difference between the two is the place they arrive from. The shrieking noise a woman makes to force people to do her bidding if only it will shut her up.. that is easy to spot as generally it’s in her pitch… the higher the noise, the greater the fear, the stronger the shrieking… The fury you can see burning in a woman’s eyes, that would be her Banshee, also know as her Kali… about to chop off your head, that pitch is totally different. There is a force moving through her that really ought to be heard, and if her world is her own, she will truly bring it… ALL THE WAY through… not the truncated depths that most women share with the world as that is all they seem allowed to share.

Time is changing beautiful woman. Our earth needs our Banshee! Learn the difference, and employ the fury in such a way as to burn through the dross that has encased your life… that is what she if for! To Burn away ALL that would contain you and Not have your world as your own.

Bosom Buddies with your Banshee… My latest work… a tool box for profound change…. Wont you join me?