~ namaste ~

In India, when you meet someone, you say Namaste. When you say goodbye, farewell, enjoy your journey, you say Namaste. When you want to honour someone, when you want to say: From the God in Me, I see the God in You, you say Namaste.

I have been on a great, wonderous and wild journey in India. I've seen, felt, heard and experienced so many things that I am saturated with them. It is bigger, more bodacious and more fantastical than words, images, stories could possibly contain. If you wish to know what India is like, go. India is too dear to me, too crazy, too boundless and too wild for me to write one post about. I would love to one day share my Book of India with you.

It has been a spirit trip for me, and I have been blessed to learn under India, Great Teacher. This past year has been for me a search for authenticity - how can I more live my life in connection with Spirit? India reinforced this for me, and gave me the space to be who I am by rivers, in cities, searching for tigers, resting in forts on mountaintops. India gave me so much - I gave myself so much.

The day after I left, leonielife.com decided to take its own retreat as well. When I dialled in from Agra to find a blank screen, all I felt was a great sense of freedom. Finally - I felt as if I could truly live India for me. I didn't need to try and document it for anyone else. I didn't need to make it look beautiful or make it make sense. I just needed to be there, for me. After three years of documenting by blog my life to some extent for others, I could live my own precious, wild, strong-medicine life in the present and wholly for myself.

That felt good, and that felt true.
That felt like what I needed to do.

Even when I arrived home, my webby website would not come out of its cave. It grew fur like a mama bear, and growled softly:
Not until you hear my lesson.
She took me into her cave that smelled of earth and moss and breath, and she gave me a gift - her gift: the medicine of introspection. Of being inward-facing. Of finding true centre, true home, true north, in my own heart.
I set up gypsy camp in her cave for a while, fossicking through my jumbled bag of belongings, actions, habits. I picked up each piece, turning it over and over, whispering to it: Do you serve me? and pressing my ear against it to hear the answer. I had to empty my bag to make room for more dreams.

And so, with breath, and heartfulness, ~ I say Namaste to blogging as a form of communication for right now. I have a bigger dream of how I can share and express in this world, and more importantly, I have a bigger dream of how I wish to be.

I give thanks for all blogging has given me these past few years - for all the ways it has helped me develop as an artist and soul, the connections and inspirations it has cultivated and the possibilities this blog has dreamed awake. Now it's time for me to live those awakened dreams.

There are books to be written and retreats to be created and art to be made and sacred space to be given in to. And most importantly, there is my own sacred, precious, beautiful life to be lived.

From time to time I will release a joy e-letter with dreams, art and happenings ~ if you would like to be on the mailing list, please email leonie (at) gmail (dot) com. I would love to see you at the retreats I will be holding, and share with you through art, books and stories of miracles come true.

Leonielife.com still points to my website, but I welcome a new domain name as my main focus - GoddessLeonie.com. For me, this feels like a small but significant shift. This isn't about everyday leonie life now. This is about being the Goddess Leonie who I know lives inside me.

I say Namaste to each and every one of you ~ and to your own sacred, precious, beautiful life. I wish to thank you deeply for sharing in this journey, for your encouragement and inspiration. If you'd like to connect, you can reach me at the above email address.

May your life always bloom in new rainbow-light, spirit-loving and authentic-true ways.

With love of spirit and life,
Leonie

Cow Shed Love Peek

This afternoon we went for a crazy little picnic in the pouring rain to our favourite cow shed on a friend's farm.

And really, what's cow shed picnic without some photoshoot fun...

More to come... but for now, here's the lovely Angel and Connor!





I couldn't decide between this beautiful portrait...



and this one...



*happy sigh*

Such beautiful days...

Wild Fairie Adventure Picnic

While I was in Brisbane a few weeks ago, I wanted to connect with some of the goddesses in my life that I have met from so many parts of my journey: high school dearhearts, internet un-met lovelies, womens circle sisters. Instead of meeting each of them for different cups of tea, I decided to Create an Event. Something a little bit wild, a little bit delicious, gentle but surprising. I considered having a Turkish banquet: too boring. A midnight rendezvous on a mountain: adventurous, but I'm more awake during the sunshine hours. A wild fairie adventure picnic: just perfect.



Now, I only needed to find a place for it!
I woke on the day of the picnic just as the sun was rising, my two sisters still slumbering. I slung on a long green skirt emblazoned with elephants, and a black singlet, and out into the morning I walked. I journeyed north, and found a park: it was bare, with small trees and traffic on all four sides. I journeyed on. I wanted to find the river, but didn't know where it was. I followed no map but the gentle pulling of my innards over sloping hills made of crumbling concrete and tropical jungle.



Down past a large white house, I found the river: wide and rumbling with skiers, hedged with mangroves. I clambered into the mangroves, and cried for a while. The distance of weeks since has blurred my memory of what pushed the tears forth. It could have been tears of joy at finding the river, and gratitude of being guided there. It could have been tears of gentle sadness at feeling all the emotions of a human with a fractured, precious heart. It could have been all of these. I only know is I cried with gratitude and honouring of the tears. And then I looked up, and the mangrove leaves were shaped like hearts. I smeared mangrove mud on my legs. I walked on.



I spoke to the fairies as I walked:

Dear Fairies,
I would like to find a pretty-ish bit of wildnerness* to co-create a magical event with. I would so love to create a space for goddesses to connect with mama earth and each other. If you could please help me find this place, I would be so grateful.
(P&P reference, for those of you playing at home)





As I gave my request, I decided that in return, I would do something for the fairies to thank them, and to make it a true energy exchange. After reading Doreen Virtue's "Healing with the Fairies", I know that fairies are custodians of the natural world, and need help in nourishing and protecting the earth.





A few minutes later, I looked down into the mangroves and saw an abandoned shopping trolley stuck halfway in the mud of the river. I looked back up the steep rocky incline to the road. Not an easy hike. I decided that a wild adventure fairie picnic is worth fighting for, so I hitched my skirt up and made my way down to the mangroves and mud. I hauled that shopping trolley inch by inch up the rocks, giggling away to myself, reminding myself all the way "I'm doing this for the fairies... doing it for the fairies..." Once up on the road again, I fixed the shopping trolley to a handrail, and high-fived myself.



I walked on. And on. And on.
Past pandanas trees and kayakers and large green leaves piled in gutters. Past huge sporting ovals and cute cottages. And then, just over a tiny creek, I found a little green space between the houses. I couldn't see where it ended, so I walked in. Past purple jacaranda trees and green jungles. Golden flowers sang and butterflies danced. I swore I saw fairies.



Past a well loved basketball hoop and a handmade pizza oven. Past voluptuous trees, into a clearing that was hemmed by a river and jungle. There were lizards and blue kingfisher birds and brown wild turkeys. It was a piece of wilderness in the suburbs, a well-loved but unowned slice of magic. Someone had mowed the clearing in a circle, forming a beautiful spiral in the grass. I had found it. The place. The one I trusted existed, even if I didn't know its name. Even though it wasn't on the maps. I had found it using my heart, and it was just what I wanted it to be.





So I sent out the call, giving wild and elaborate directions for a place that didn't exist. I wonder even if it would be there if I went to look again, or if it existed only for that short space of time, like the secret garden, or the place behind the grandfather clock.





That afternoon, we gathered there. Women and children and a tiny puppy named Bella. Goddesses of all different flavours, all stunningly beautiful in their own ways. Friends of friends meeting friends. Women finding each other and sharing. Eating and laughing and speaking. Soaking in the fairie magic. Painting wildly. Throwing the canvas as far as we could across the spiral oval. Getting hands and feet and noses and faces glistening with rainbow paint. Wearing paper tiaras. Being just as we are.





I don't know how to express just how much sacred and sublime gatherings fill me up now. Just how much I have learned that when you take the path less travelled, adventure and magic flow in as easily as breath. I see the glistening, shimmering beauty in every soul I meet. I feel blessed beyond belief. And onwards I walk, knowing there is more work to be done, more life to be lived, more joyous celebrating to be had.






Onwards I walk, to a new place, and to a new self.
I journey onwards now, to India, to dreams come true, to lotus flowers and Kali Ma.
I kiss the palm of all I meet, and hold my own.



I am off on a journey ~~~
I return in a month.





Until then, may your journey be blessed with light.
May you have magical, sublime, sweet times.



May your eyes fill up with goodness.
May you dare to be your own wild adventure fairie.

Namaste,
Leonie

P.S. Remember: Magic can happen anywhere at any time. Ya just gotta give it the space to enter.

Love From The Jungle

There are so many stories tumbling inside me. So many stories to be heard, known, understood. So many stories to make a home inside this soul of mine.

Stories of how the light looks at Brisbane dawn, seeping into you, waking you long before you are ready. Stories of sisterhood and fierce love and unexpected tenderness. Stories of sushi and curry and cupcakes. Stories of hospital beds and meds and a ferociously beautiful octogenarian named Phyllis sharing a hospital room with three mad sisters. Stories of walks in long green and black skirts, patterned with elephants, walks waist-high through the jungle of Brisbane's wildflowers and wilderness, magnificence and mangroves. Stories of taxi drivers who break your heart or set it free with love for humanity. Stories of wildness. And laughter that leaves you breathless and falling into trees, the kind of laughter only sisters know. Stories of hands clutching crystals. Stories of past lives and presentness and priestesses and puppies. Stories of seeing beautiful women and luscious men in my eyes, heart, camera lens.

Stories of walking through the city at daybreak with a thirsty soul, following your feet past ruptured concrete to a tiny breath of Mama Earth, a park carved into the bustle of a hill. Stories of butterflies and birds. Stories of old friends and new friends. Stories of seeing an old friend and telling him: you know who I once dreamed of being? I am that now. Stories of a picnic in an abandoned lot/park/fairy garden, a gathering of rainbow precious women. Stories of pyjama parties and making dreams come true. And the brave pleasure of being yourself, even when that self seems faintly otherworldly. Stories of pain and healing, vulnerability and loveliness. Stories of nestling with my sisters, legs and hands akimbo, revelling in our holy trinity.



So many stories. I do not know yet how to tell them, how to speak them, how to hear them for what they really are. They instead are streams of silk fluttering around inside me, and I clutch at them, threading long fingers through them, grasping them into a ball. And then I let them go, I breathe and I sit. I watch, knowing instead that on their own, with time, the silken threads will weave and warp into a quilt of understanding and wisdom. Maybe I could show you the quilt when it has discovered itself. Maybe I could share it in adorned squares: of photographs, of the little stories, of moments.

But for now, there are breaths to be breathed, and a deeply precious life to be loved.



All is well,
with love,
Leonie

Adventure Time

Off on a WSA (Wild Sister Adventure)!

In the meantime,

Breathe in the beauty
and give it a home inside you.

You have such a cute nose,
Leonie

What To Do In Parking Lots

Make Super Model photo shoot.


"Levels: work Levels babe!"


"We iz suburban grunge"


"We iz modern dance"

Taken approximately five hours before we danced in front of Bobby Flynn wearing angel wings and cowgirl hats.

We were just warming up.

What do you do in parking lots?

My challenge to you this weekend is to go out and make parking lot art. Make those concrete jungles a place for beauty and creativity to bloom. (post a link in the comments if you do it)

:)
blessings,
Leonie

Sacred Sounds

Saturday afternoon was birthed clear and blue, shining and new.
What to create on a day such as this?

Dream this:

Souls driving out of the city
and into the southern alpine fields that kiss the feet of tender purple mountains.

A Sacred Sounds Concert on a healing retreat ~
friends, lovers, families, dear ones to celebrate sacred sounds.

Imagine making music because that's what calls you,
that's what frees you, that's what makes community.
There are no mistakes, there is only sound, and there is only laughter,
as you make music together.



Imagine a circle of souls:
of healers, children, teachers, musicians, shamans, filipino tribal chiefs, artists, fairies and farmers
holding hands in one circle, in oneness,
in an old circlular cow shed
singing ohm together
until the sacred sound swirls around them
and dances up through the roof
making spirits creak and souls soar.



Imagine dancing like an eagle,
in a circle of dancing eagles,
with a goddess child in your arms.



Imagine a couple who love each other
tenderly, honestly and genuinely.
Who love this Earth and its people so much that they open their hearts and their land
to make a healing retreat and hold gatherings to come home to.



the entirely beautiful peter and gini



Imagine an incredible band who don't make just music:
they make spirit and magic and dreams play harmony in the air.


Gorgeous George and their sublime drummer

Imagine the Andi and George band that make music that is your soul home.
Imagine them and then buy every single album they own,
because they deserve it and you deserve them.
You deserve their tilting, dancing, miraculous ocean music beauty in your heart.


Goddess Andi

Imagine bare feet
aching to tell
their story
in movement.



Imagine your friends, your circle sisters
swirling together into light and song and dance
there in the cow shed with you.


Angel and Freya


Goddess Kaylia

Imagine a gathering of souls and music
where dogs are just as much a part of the gathering
as anybody else.



Imagine a beautiful man who loves you
so deeply, unconditionally and acceptingly,
always gently watching from the corner,
always watching you fly.

Imagine a man who is a lake of reflection,
soaking it all into his depths,
letting the singing bowl and the didjeridoo
make their music inside him.



Imagine walking by the lake,
coming home to yourself and to the Earth,
strung in a necklace of Goddesses
who have become your tribe.



Imagine finding a woman who is like a twin to you.
Imagine her. She is coming. She has arrived.



Imagine reclaiming the Dance:
the Dance of Freedom, the Dance that makes you Glad,
the Dance your body longs to dance.
Imagine the Dance that isn't about judgements or others,
it is the Dance of Being Alive and Barefoot and Grateful.

All I need to dance now
is hands beating drums
and the dirt floor of a cow shed.



All I need to dance now
is Mother Earth
kissing my bare feet



and Father Sun's light
kissing my bare face and arms



and the sacred sound of our own hearts beating.




All we need is the sacred sound of our own hearts beating.




Imagine it... so it may be...

In brilliance,
Leonie