Tag Archives: consciousness

Intuition – A Love Letter

Twenty-two years ago, almost to the day, I attended a workshop run by a charming lady called Judith, a relationship counsellor, somewhere in north London. I remember the event being tremendous fun as well as profoundly useful. At the time, my first husband and I were in the throes of separation, or ‘conscious uncoupling’, as it is now more affectionately known. Uncoupling, even with the noblest intention in the world, demands a great deal of courage and a humble and contrite heart. In my case, it also called for a lot of self-help workshops. Fans of Elizabeth Gilbert and Eat, Pray, Love will know exactly what I mean.

This morning, I stumbled across a handwritten self-addressed letter in a tattered brown paper envelope. Inside was a handwritten letter, a note to self, dated 23rd October 1992. The beauty and clarity of the message startled me. There’s something about heartfelt transparency that cuts straight to the chase. This is what it said:-

Dear Christina,

You have learnt this week that you must really listen to yourself and act on your intuition, without thinking too much about what could or could not be. You have learnt the importance of sharing with people, of accepting people as they truly are and of accepting all the irritations and niggles you feel.

The important thing is to use your voice even when you feel that what you have to say is not as good, not as important as anybody else’s. You have learnt that holding on to sadness only reinforces it and does not set you free. You have learnt that you are now ready to leave the nest, but in order to do so, you must try out your wings and spread them out.

You have learnt that nobody else will love you if you do not love yourself. You have learnt that honesty and love is the answer to everything – and acceptance. And you have learnt that you have many gifts inside you that you must now put into practice without expectation and holding on to other things.

With love,
From me to you xxx

Twenty-two years is a lengthy passage of time. Yet if you subscribe to the viewpoint that

“life is not measured by the number of breaths you take, but the moments that take your breath away”

time is highly over-rated. Time bears no significance in the wisdom school of living and loving. In these past twenty-two years, a very happy second marriage and second ‘conscious uncoupling’, divorce has taken place. Another opportunity to deepen the practice of acceptance, surrender to what was and allow new pathways to emerge. My commitment to keep my heart open to give and receive loves continues to be my guiding force. Great teachers really do appear when you most need them. Darren Eden from Devon, a master in the field of intuition, has picked up the mantle from Judith, the relationship counsellor from north London. Great teachers are the ones who walk unfalteringly alongside you when you are terrified of drowning, encouraging you to let go and dive deeper. Great teachers never tell you what to do, but they will hold up a mirror to your very own soul.

“Listen to yourself and act on your intuition” continues to serve me well. In this age of ‘click click information’, there is only one place to go, one voice to listen to.

“To thy own self be true”

but remember, always, there is no need to be a hermit. The world needs you and deep sea divers need companions too.

Self-love and self-compassion is a second by second, minute by minute, daily, forever practice. It requires self-discipline, self-acceptance, oodles of patience, always peppered with a huge dollop of humour. In return we receive a priceless gift, the heart of who we are. As we continue to disarm, lay down our inner defences, what pours through is pure intuition, a God-given gift, the inner voice of love and the sweet nectar of all relationships. Intuition is Me-shaped. The source of intuition, like the source of the stream which leads to the river which leads to the sea, starts with Me.

Teenage Idol – Love is all you need



Any discussion on love and idolatry sets me in a spin.  The swings and roundabouts of romance and love.  The agony and the ecstasy.   Maybe it’s because as a teenager I thought love made the world go round.  Maybe it’s because now I’m no longer a teenager, I know love makes the world go round.    I’ve arrived at a place where naivete and innocence are reconciled.  And I’m enjoying the view.   The 360 degree perspective.  This is the joy of the journey of love.   It never changes, just goes round and round in circles.   A song without end.    Love…fun…fairgrounds…err…where am I going with this?

I can’t remember hero worshipping the usual popular suspects, but then again I was not quite old enough to be fully swinging in the swinging 60’s.  I do remember that Scott Walker’s beauty, the richness of his voice and his “Sun Ain’t Gonna Shine Anymore”, got my heart fluttering far more than Lennon and McCartney’s “Yesterday” ever did.  Elvis the Pelvis never really quite did it for me, neither could I ever understand how Tom Jones acquired so many female knickers.   Stevie Winwood, Marvin Gaye, Cat Stevens…hmm now we’re talking.

The concept of ‘teenage idols’ or ‘crushes’ may need re-examining.  Perhaps the phrase is a bit too limited, too restrictive.   My teenage idols were not necessarily mainstream populist people.  I fell in love truly, madly, deeply (and always silently, more Bridget Jones style) with people who displayed passion through performance.  I particularly remember Frank Wibaut, a very talented pianist in a Chopin competition I took part in.  For years, he was my idol.

As we travel back in time, we realise we are forever teenagers in our hearts.    Maybe the real beauty is in that it’s less about the messenger and more about the message.   Maybe idols are simply people who stir our passion, awaken something in our souls, make us want to be more like them, less like us.    Maybe an idol magically brings home the message that love endures and transcends time and space.  That it never ever dies.  And the spirit of romance is always alive within us.  Rachmaninov’s second piano concerto, Frederic Chopin, the pulling of heart strings…these are my teenage and my forever idols.

Then again before I get too transcendental, purist or whiter than white,  appearance does play a big part in the passion test too.  Enrico Inglesias has always done it for me.   And in his case, it’s definitely as much about the messenger as the message.   He can be my hero anytime.  Yes, love and beauty never dies.  Long may we cherish our teenage sweethearts.

Love Divine

Easter Sunday…and the amalgamation of this Lenten journey.  Truth, Beauty, Goodness…interwoven, ever flowing, ever giving, ever growing.  Love Divine.  Henry Thoreau’s image of the two oaks, crowns reaching to the heavens, roots firmly on the ground, “inseparably”.  I cannot think of a more beautiful way to express human love and divine love becoming One.  Vulnerable in our humanity, powerful in our divinity, the suffering Christ, the risen Christ.  enJOY we celebrate and reach out to each other, to One and all.   ❤ 


I think awhile of Love, and while I think,

Love is to me a world,

Sole meat and sweetest drink,
And close connecting link
Tween heaven and earth.


I only know it is, not how or why,
My greatest happiness;
However hard I try,
Not if I were to die,
Can I explain.


I fain would ask my friend how it can be,
But when the time arrives,
Then Love is more lovely
Than anything to me,
And so I’m dumb.


For if the truth were known,

Love cannot speak,
But only thinks and does;
Though surely out ’twill leak
Without the help of Greek,
Or any tongue.


A man may love the truth and practise it,
Beauty he may admire,
And goodness not omit,
As much as may befit
To reverence.


But only when these three together meet,
As they always incline,
And make one soul the seat,
And favorite retreat,
Of loveliness;


When under kindred shape, like loves and hates
And a kindred nature,
Proclaim us to be mates,
Exposed to equal fates


And each may other help, and service do,
Drawing Love’s bands more tight,
Service he ne’er shall rue
While one and one make two,
And two are one;


In such case only doth man fully prove
Fully as man can do,
What power there is in Love
His inmost soul to move


Two sturdy oaks I mean, which side by side,
Withstand the winter’s storm,
And spite of wind and tide,
Grow up the meadow’s pride,
For both are strong


Above they barely touch, but undermined
Down to their deepest source,
Admiring you shall find
Their roots are intertwined


Henry David Thoreau

In Joyful Sorrow



Reflecting on my journey this Passion week, I am in utter awe of the sheer beauty and majesty of this world.  So many heart stopping moments.  The joy of friendship and family; the joy of community, participation, burgeoning new friendships, visions, nestling in and birthing from the bosom of the familiar; the vision of the red hot sun and the red hot moon on Tuesday ;  Allegri’s Miserere at St Sepulchres on Maundy Thursday, where amidst the hustle and bustle, comings and goings, fortunes made and fortunes lost in this great city of London, all stood absolutely still in the silent presence of continuum.   This is love.   This is Passion.  This is our Lenten journey.  This is our Cross and our Joy.  Creation and re-creation.  Heart stopping moments of bliss, of sorrow and everything in between.     Hearts are made to be broken; pierced; time and time, so we dive ever deeper through our individual and our collective wound.  So that we can love ever more fiercely and faithfully, ever more lovingly, willingly and joyfully through our sorrow.   When our hearts are pierced the waters of life and the rivers of blood meet and flow into the divine ocean of love.    This is our one and only purpose.    To surrender.  To ask for forgiveness and remain centred in the presence of our own embryonic love, trusting, knowing that we are safe and deeply loved, no matter what chaos, turmoil or stormy seas abide.  To know that no matter how far we run or hide, love finds us and is with us, always in all ways.   With deepest gratitude on this Good Friday for everything that was, everything that is and everything that is to come.   In peace, in joy, in sorrow and always in love   

Digging Deep


Passion Week, Tuesday.  A brisk evening walk; flowing conversation; sunset, moon rise; with friends in the silent backdrop of glorious Herefordshire countryside.  Life is magical.  Life is beautiful.  This is the stuff that dreams are made of.   For all these things I am grateful, so very, very grateful.  

We are so many things, yet we are none

A daisy chain of crowning moments

A buttercup sequence of ‘love you, love you nots’

We are strong like oaks, guardians of the forest

Reaching upwards towards that vast expanse

We are soft and gentle willows, bending, flexing,

Caressing the ground with veils of tears

We are red hot suns and red hot moons

Taking turns to make star appearances

We are Each and Every One

Blinking, blazing, dancing, gazing

Unmissable, unstoppable

Wasted Days Wasted Nights

In response to Krista’s daily prompt  of today, “looming deadlines and how to deal with them”, I binned the negative thought pattern associated with ‘looming’ and ‘deadline’ a long long time ago.   When the context is changed, the content follows.  Writing is a joy, not a burden.   The ‘To Do’ list has become a ‘To Love’ list and I feel inspired, most of the time.      If the flow is not happening, I walk away.  Take a break.  Go and smell the roses.  I wait for the idea whose time has come.  Writing and work are not life and death matters.  Wasted Days, Wasted Nights?  Never!   Losing yourself in your imagination can frequently be the best place to hang out.    Days and nights are never wasted.   

« Older Entries