Tag Archives: Transformation

Alchemy of Life

What I have to offer to the world is only worthy and valuable if I step in and offer it. Worrying about if it’s truly of value or if there will be anyone else to value it, doesn’t help the world if it becomes an obstacle.

Stones that Heal

I can make a place for myself in the world, or I can remain in the shadow of another. Happiness, for me, is in the making.

Green TreeLined Path

The only thing standing between me and what I want is me.

Most of the time, I love who I am, but I also realize that the bane of my existence – is just me.

Strength 2

It is often said that we cannot sacrifice the many for the one. When we sacrifice the one, we sacrifice the many. There is no such thing as the one.

Chakra Stones

Letting the Light In

Candle and Wrought Iron

Weekly Tips:

For: Adaptability. Strength. Flexibility. Stability. Mobility. Ease. Pleasure Longevity.

Tips that are short, sweet and to the point.

And free.

Tips to increase awareness.

Tips for exploring and reconnecting to Body, Mind, Spirit and Emotions.

Tips to re-define aging and enjoy more of life than we believed possible.

Mind. Body. Heart. Spirit.

Every Friday night, a new Tip will arrive in your inbox, just in time for the weekend!

Once a week, you’ll receive a PDF with your your tip for letting the light in.

To sign up, email me at MovementAlchemyHeals@gmail.com with your first name and you can start receiving them.

PigsOnlyUndressInTheDark and TheHorseSpeaks4Languages





Resisting the urge to peak around the corner. The door is open

But the lights are low and I’m not familiar with the room.

Breath sails in and out of my chest. My bones remind me that I am fluid stability.

Unexpectedly my view shimmers to vast and sharp.

I have resigned myself to













My opus.

Not Tonight

Wind Blown Woman in Black

I’m being called again.

Some are called to wander through miles and miles of rock, brush and tree.

Others to scale the many faces of Earth.

Still others climb aboard enigmatic vessels and are relieved only when there are liquid miles below them.

I am called by the wind.

Wind. Ruffling my hair and pinking my cheeks.

Shapeshifters. Changecallers. The bringers of transformation to soil, flesh and sky.

I need to be pushed; to be reminded not to stand in the same place for too long. Reminded that nothing is permanent. It is here. The wind blows. It is gone.

My soul speaks wind. Restless. Ever-shifting. Bending, rattling, cracking. Pressing to be let in and gone before an answer.

She blows. He blows. Both and neither. My response is pure sensation – gut startling me to attention. Chest inhaling to take him in and exhaling to join her ride – anticipation like a laugh in the distance I strain to hear.

They call and I am less flesh and bone then flight and fluid.

Excess falls away; where I’m going I won’t need it.

Clearing away.

Scouring the mess.

When they’re gone I will be less. And more.

I still haven’t gone out to meet them. What am I waiting for?

It is dark and I can’t see the trees dancing anymore but I know they are; I feel them seductively leaning in and coyly pulling away.

I peek out, into the ice and horror flicks at my chest. That’s not my wind.

I smell of it as I sit here writing to you, still feeling the remnants of illusion. I don’t fear the wind.

That’s not my wind. It calls, but today I will not reply.

That’s not my wind.