Greenwitchaustralia's Blog

A little bit dress up, a little bit of green magic…

Spirit Warrior for Red Catherine

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I love to dress up.
I’ve always liked to dress up.
Sometimes I’ve never understood what the point of it is?
It has mostly seemed a bit self-indulgent.
However I remain compelled and committed to doing just this very thing.
And until now I’ve never seen how this dress up thing could actually benefit others.
So Thank You Red Catherine for inspiring me to not only seek my own authenticity in dress ups, but to use it for the healing, amusement, enjoyment, vicarious pleasure and greater good of others too.
This post is for Red Catherine Johns (Romany, Story Teller,Animal Rights Activist, Feminist, Teacher and my friend) This Warrior is dedicated to you and all the great people around you supporting your current healing journey.

Warrior Spirit

For Red Catherine

If you are interested in Artemis and the amazing animal (and people ) rescue work Red Catherine does please go to her Facebook page Artemis Animal Rescue Sanctuary. Donations will be much appreciated.
Engaging the Warrior Spirit in us all…..Green Blessings.

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The Hump Year

I’m Feelin’ kind of reflective today. It’s Wednesday, fondly known as Hump day by some, as the middle point of the week. I wonder whether at 45 in a few days time whether I am approaching Hump Year. A mid way point in a life that so far is getting better as I age like a great gorgonzola.

Hanging out in the hump

I don’t feel a great need to look back and wish I did it differently. Everything that went before has informed my now so that’s okay.

I don’t feel a great need to look ahead. I seem pretty happy just hanging about in the Right This Very Minute and stirring my soup, sprinkling my glitter, or whatever else takes my fancy.

This is unfamiliar terrain for me as a previously desperate and sometimes disparate seeker of stuff about stuff. So I stopped going to one thousand and one sessions to heal my being. I stopped reading about it to. I got rid of a whole book-case of self help tomes that when I weighed them up, just ate cash and made me feel a perennial sense of hopelessness. I did recently indulge in a recommended guide to saving whales, emo’s and other things that would make me feel better. But its gathering dust by the bed. I was too busy making Pie!

So here I am hanging about in the middle. Not everything has gone to plan. Not everything is shiny. But the Middle does seem absolutely, positively okay. And that’s okay.

Green Blessings

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Being Caroline

Today I am Caroline. Just as it is, no embellishments, no fuss and that is okay with me.

I enjoyed a grand, long train ride the other day and was reflective (As I often am while traveling) and thought about how okay I was with myself at that particular moment. Being Caroline felt just fine.

I had quite a lot of nicknames when I was younger… most of them unpleasant, and they seem like a chronicle of the life and times of me.

Fuzzy/Curly-Wurly: Primary school taunt on account of …. well curly- wurly hair. (Taken to heart in a devastating way and made me feel very sad)

Static: Early high school mocking jibe (Similar to above) with more advanced language content. Made me feel horribly rejected and friendless. (I was)

Koos: Mid high school extra nasty poke and prod meaning Sook spelt backwards. I was a sook on account of early taunting and multiple hair references. This didn’t help. Lots of time crying at school.

Jelly: Early teen years developing breast reference. At least I felt noticed! Awkward when your father calls you this nick-name.

Strange lack of names for later high school years. We grew up and started studying.

Caro: Post university. Trying out a new sense of self. Caro at the time seemed fresh and unencumbered. Later it felt try-hard and inauthentic. It remains persistent and is unappreciated.

CAROLINE: It is my name and I like it. I must have grown into myself somewhere along the line.

No trimmings, no makeup, bare essential me.

Welcome to me.

Green Blessings.

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The Day I got Saved By An Earthworm

I went on a sabbatical recently. It was called work.

I was quite shocked with the veracity of how I got sucked into the whirl of it all. So for three months I have run my family and been to work, and there wasn’t much time for anything else. And that was okay. Now I am a bit more practiced at juggling all those balls, have found my work groove thang and am back in the game again.
Probably spurred on by a couple of inspired gardening sessions in the rain in the last few weeks. I don’t know what happens, but when those drops pour down in the night, I feel compelled to get out and tinker in the soil. I love that gurgle and giggle as the weeds coming glopping out, with worms hanging on for dear life. We say hello and part good friends.

I have been practicing new spaces over the past three months. Trying to hang on to the beautiful bits of my time off with Alice. I can’t make bread everyday anymore, and stock is infrequent. My house sure isn’t as tidy, but my brain sure is working a bit better.

And I decided that exercise needed to be something I did make time for. So I’ve been dabbling and enjoying Healthy at 44. I’m finding muscles I thought had composted. I rediscovered a waist line I thought had spread like some Exxon disaster. There is also this new passenger called self respect. I’m learning to like it.

Sometimes I still feel like it’s all too much, but my time spent playing with herbs and ritual and the goddess; and cooking and connecting with my community have all served me well. I feel grounded. I feel kind of optimistic. I feel blessed.

And I just can’t wait for my next wet, wet, wet gardening sojourn.

Green Blessings.


The Meandering Path

One day I was plodding along, wiping pumpkin of Alice’s cheeks (or mine) and talking in mysterious baby-ease, and next minute I was staring down the barrel of returning to work. I am planning a three-day return only, but it seems that one minute you are following a path, and you think that’s the way to go, and next minute… darn tootin’…you’ve headed another way.

Did I get lost? Is this the right way? Or is it merely a detour?

Paulo Coehlo recently said on his Face Book page that ‘Choosing one path means abandoning others – if you try to follow every possible path you will end up following none’. When I read it I had only just found out about returning to work, and the 157 things required to make that work within family life. It made me ponder. Was this return to work part of the bigger picture? Or was it just a distraction from my real purpose? At this stage I do not have clarity on this.

So over the weeks that come I will observe what is going on for me. Does the return to work serve to work for our family unit? Do I still find time to nurture the things I love like my community garden plot, my creative endeavors, soulful cooking and my work with herbs and plants? If it does not I will rethink what appears to be the path right now.

It is important not to get lost in the dark forest again.

Green Blessings.

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The Red Shoes

Whimsy today! And when I think Whimsy I think RED shoes.

Carrie Bradshaw had great shoes. Dorothy of course had great shoes. What is it about shoes that resonates with us so much? Did you know that the most women over 50 said their favourite shoe color was red. Shoes aren’t just shopping fodder. They are archetypal images.

Years ago I was asking a lot of questions about my own life. I met an amazing Canadian Elder who talked me through my funk and suggested I needed to consult the Ancestors. Hey that has to be better than therapy right?

She suggested a guided meditation. I was to stand in my shoes metaphorically and visually step back into the shoes of my maternal grandmother, then her mother, then her mother, as many generations as I liked. Listen to the wisdom each women offered and bring it forth into my life. This was a powerful exercise for me and I ended up writing a series of short stories based on them. Fourth generation back I hit a beautiful pair of vermillions. Dancing shoes they were with a sweet gold buckle.

In this personal story, I was definitely dancing to the beat of my own drum. There was a cost though. People didn’t understand. I was odd, eccentric and to some degree ostracized. It does take power to be yourself and risk being different. And there is the danger you will dance yourself to a tragic end like in Hans Christian Anderson’s, The Red Shoe story.

I try to carry this knowledge with me daily. I Can be different. I Can wear the quintessential red shoe. I Can dance wildly and wickedly at the bus stop. I just need to remember that not everyone is as happy with glee as I might be, and that I might get few strange looks in the supermarket, while tip-tapping next to the frozen peas.

I am currently without red shoes in my life. I wore a pair out while pregnant last year. The pair below is on my wish list.

So at the moment I’m dancing on the inside.

Green (or Red Blessings)

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Mattock your inner martyr today!

I AM a rapidly reforming Martyr. I’m not talking about the Mother T, Nelson M type of powerful, useful change the world type. I’m talking about the whiny, needy, victim laden type. Yes I know, poor role models, abusive uncle, caring for my family of 17 on a shoe string budget type. Yada, Yada. Everyone has a great story to justify their own inner M. I fully own my past and sometimes present behavior as a burnt chop kitchen hero. (Except when I was vegetarian, when I would have taken a smaller share of the marinated tofu that everyone else loved).

If there was a twelve step program for Martyrs I should have enrolled years ago. Except I was too busy slaving over the dishes on a Sunday night, when everyone else was eating the last of the super, nuper, lovely, lumps and chunks chocolate ice-cream that I had been coveting.

The bad rub was that Ms Polly in the kitchen was nurturing her very own pot of festering resentment ratatouille. I would be coasting along, mightier and holier than thou when I would find the ratatouille oozing out of my pores. What started off as a mild sense of discontent, would bubble and erupt like a carbuncle. Not at all pleasant to anything in the flight path.

These incorrigible behaviors have challenged my relationships and at times my family harmony. Why the heck would anyone keep doing it? It obviously isn’t for the steak knives or the attractive giveaway t-shirt. Our Inner M is just dying to be loved and nurtured right back. Instead of going out and doing what is useful to us, we maintain the Big M hoping that it brings us what we need. It just doesn’t work though.

It’s so much easier to delegate the dishes to someone else, get my pajamas on, and grab that super nubbly ice-cream, while the team are wiping down the benches. Then we can all enjoy a great evening together, trying to diagnose the patient before Dr House does.

I don’t know if it’s a femme 40’s thing, but I have a few fabulous friends around me, and we are all swearing off the burnt chop at the moment. One friend has just finishing studying, and had to do a creative presentation of her learnings about Collaborative Management Practice. She bought proud tears to my eyes describing her strip tease (down to a skin- colored body suit) where she systematically packed her unhelpful aspects of self in an old suitcase. Of course this included her Martyr self, that gets in the way of her being an even more effective manager than she already is. When she shared her story, I don’t know if my tears were for her courage in exposing her own vulnerabilities or the parallel process going on, in eliminating my own Inner M.

So in giving an eviction notice to my Inner M I…

Give my family more tasks to do
Stop doing things when I feel resentful
Spend money on myself when I need to
Each the last biscuit on occasions
Tell people what I want instead of expecting them to divine it
Have a fend for yourself food night
Let people care for my 8 month year old baby when they offer
Give myself permission to NOT bake bread, make stock or whatever task I feel is essential to life on earth
and get in quick for the super nuper Ice cream.

I am much happier, and so is everyone else.

Take a mattock to your Inner M today.

Green Blessings.