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

I have played with Paul Simon (and other miracles)

It's true - in a round-a-bout-six-degrees-of-separation kind of way. I am possibly even closer to Paul Simon than I am to my (almost) bestie MacGyver.

Let me explain this miracle, and other miracles.

Yesterday me, my love and my love's mum went out to the Spirit of the Forest Festival on my beautiful friend Gini's property. I wore my turquoise cowgirl hat, a sure sign an adventure will come about. The afternoon was filled with drinking chai, planting trees to honour our Tree grandmothers, watching a horse~whisperer, hanging out by the tipi, listening to talks.



Once the sun dropped behind the mountains, everyone gathered into the round building that once was a cattle feeding shed. The shadows were dreamy against the brick-hewn wall.



And the dance began. Led by Prince Mama Kiama, an Unahi tribe chief from the Phillipines, a group of men dressed in loincloths began to dance. They leapt through the air, beating on drums, running like warriors. Women dressed in long skirts sashayed around the edges with arms like gentle eagles.



I want to tell you how that felt, how my heart beat quickened and breath shortened as they danced. That somehow, seeing that Prince and those mostly white boys in loincloths dancing, made a primal owl in me screech into the night. I want to tell you how I had tears in my eyes and a snake uncoiling in my belly, wanting that initiation for every man, for these ceremonies to be a part of every one's life, for dance and movement and spirit to be the way we celebrate each and every sunset. And mostly, for some inexplicable reason, I want to bring loincloths and long skirts back. They call in me some ancient memory that is deep and instinctual, as though they are how things should be.


my love at night.

The drums kept drumming into that night. The musical instruments came out, and songs were sung. A melting pot of traditions, wisdoms, songs and open hearts. I just kept feeling incredibly blessed to witness it all.



The entirely beautiful Prince Mama.





His Earthmamadrummingloving wife Lisa.



The quietly compelling Craig Six Bears playing a Native American flute.



And then, a man by the name of Trevor Knight joined the stage. And he and Prince Mama sang John Denver songs together, as brothers. Trevor told us that in the 1960's he played the folk circuit in England, and often played shows with an upstart short dude named Paul Simon, who later went back to America to play with his mate Art Garfunkel. Yep, THE Paul Simon, one of my biggest music idols and on my Top 5 to see live list (along with James Taylor and the five member version of Fleetwood Mac).

So last night, in an old cattle feeding shed, I tucked my djembe under my arm, and I drummed along with a Philipino tribal chief and a dude who had played with Paul Simon. I drummed like there was nothing else to do but echo the heartbeat, nothing to do but herald a miracle.

I danced with that drum like a woman possessed by the earth, the music and the moon~drenched air.

All my life I have been waiting to be this woman.



Country roads, take me home
To the place I belong
West of Proserpine, mountain momma
Take me home, country roads

(Lyrics by John Denver, as sung by Leonie Allan)


"There are two laws we have. To translate them, it means Love and also Peace."
~ Prince Mama Kiama


I will meet you in the dancing circle,
Leonie