For those who lost their tongues

 

 

The Middle earth – this holding land,

the indigenous of our tribe,

the people of my heritage,

their medicine

and their myths, where dragons and elves

 

not only in dreams

 

as kings fought for their forests,

the land,

the sacred medicine

where beasts and other-worlds live

 

as one

 

but those who burnt

at the stake,

and those who

ancestors of middle earth

lost their tongues

 

were silenced,

 

bloody and burnt –

I sat there,

her at my back stirring my own cauldron,

knowing when the time was right,

they would come

to listen, to know, to receive

the wisdom of the old one,

 

the witch, the crone

 

And she – the seer,

through my eyes,

through my songs,

would touch those hearts

and that same medicine

that flows,

 

now at this time

the time that is right

for the empowerment of her voice

and the worlds of middle-earth

brought back to life

back to the hearts

 

of our own lineage

 

For I feel the wounds of my great, great, great grandmothers

and I dig my hands and my roots into their soil,

I sing the songs of those ancestors,

their voice will be freed through mine

 

and their screams ‘will’ be heard

and their wisdom will be -released

 

And those who have been forgotten

that flesh – and that bone

in my dreams will – be – remembered

for our ancestors need be sung

 

if we are meant to heal

 

And that soul of our humanity,

 as the old one prays,

 will return for sure

in that voice of mystery

mending the betrayal

 

of our broken ways

Caroline Carey,

may 2017

Posted in caroline carey, dance, english soil, healing, poetry, prose, spirit, Uncategorized, women | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

I love you, I’m sorry & I trust you!

Being a mother, I learn’t that the most important things to be able to say to my children apart from I love you, were ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘I trust you.’
Sorry for the part I played in any of your difficulties and I trust you to find your way and make your own decisions in life. And I didn’t find it always an easy thing to learn!

I still don’t find it easy at times. As a mother we want what is best for our children but as they grow that can manifest as control and manipulation, trying to keep them safe so that we do not feel the discomfort and pain that their stepping into the world can bring. There is of course much to fear. But it is their life, their choice and they must learn from their own challenges and their own mistakes and their own choices.  It is the way of their own souls purpose and who are we to deny them that?

mother trust and sorry

http://www.middleearthmedicine.com

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The Muse in the Dark

I knew my menopause would ‘happen’ as I turned 50. I knew it because that is when it happened to my mother. She told me this and informed me that we usually follow the timing of our mothers on such things. I began my menstrual cycle at the same time as her also, she told me this would happen too. I was 13, so was she. So in my 50th year I stopped having my monthly menstruation and marked its occasion with a very large collage, hanging it on the wall to ever remind me of where I was in my existence, now dusty and losing the odd image as glue became unstuck. It included my blood, my last bleeding. It also included images of the witches, my own female ancestors, healers, pictures of wolves, earth, rock, raging skin including orange peel and bark from the trees, crumpled red tissue paper among broken glass, the skull of a dead bird and its bones and then words amongst many words… “now is the time to leap,” poetry I had written that year from a darkened place, meeting the archetype of whom I was becoming.
                                                                                                       

My dark angel sits in the children’s grove,

My heartbeats and the waters of the river flow from my eyes,

My promise to her is to take her essence fully into the world,

My claws and my new found wings,

Jumping off their pedestal into the dark night,

Now is the time to leap!

Things started to change quite rapidly for me. My mother said she didn’t feel any change at all, nothing seemed to happen to her really. But I wondered if that was because she was a women slightly out of touch with her body, emotions and feelings. Well she never spoke of any of those things and had an uncanny way of shutting down, sulking or disowning anything that might have resembled ‘heat.’
For me I was pretty determined to experience my menopause whatever. I wanted to know what hot flushes, flashes and sweats were all about, what all the many emotions I had heard about actually did to us. Did we really become quite mad and hysterical? I don’t think its quite like that but I did notice a sense of crazy, unadulterated, mad woman desperately wanting to emerge and yet doing my best to hone her, direct her energy and channel into something beautifully creative, which became my task.

Six years after my last bleed I still experienced those flashes in all manner of guises, I still needed to get some of those skills under my belt and I still needed to fill as much of my time with creativity as I possibly could. Failing at times and noticing the uncomfortableness when I didnt resource myself with making something, anything that resembled art, poetry, writing or a dance, frantically sometimes piecing things together to make them look moderately like a sculpture, or an attractive (unattractive) looking display of nature.

In the first year I noticed that everything around me seemed to be falling apart, quite literally and was clearly a time when I had to say ‘enough is enough and I must just give up and let go and immerse myself into this darkened time.’ Many women will say ‘this is your time, a time to focus inwardly, be by yourself and be with the process.’ So try telling that to a mother of six children, a Grandmother, a wife, a lover of community and her work and see how well that sits!

 Well, for me it made the rage even greater and the madwomen for sure would become very frustrated, however I gave it a go on occasion and as I did I came up with some amazing pieces of work/creativity/maps to share with others, and was totally at times, engrossed in that creative energy, my dance and the power that seemed to give to me. But totally alone? I don’t think so.
I’m not a sit in ones cave and meditate kinda girl, but inward I did go, no matter what or who was around me, into that darkened place that only an aspiring crone can really go, because it gets ugly, darker and uglier the further she goes!

I missed my bleeding’s, feeding my plants with their regular fertiliser, having that monthly reminder of my femininity, observing its relationship with the moon and how well it seemed to connect to the seasons, well I was lucky those bleeding’s were never too bad, painful, hefty! I was very aware of how other women might suffer. But it was to be, I quite enjoyed my ‘periods.’ I experienced ‘the cramps’ still for awhile on occasion, just slightly and they reminded me to keep on moving and dance them away as a new dance set in.

Now they are forgotten after all of this time, is it seven years now?  And yes it can be a nice relief, no worries about pregnancy or being caught out when the timing is a bit amiss. But the changes to the rest of the body are some what a shock, as the skin wrinkles, (that was represented as orange peel and tree bark in my collage,) muscles are simply not the same, bones and joints ache and one is continually suggested to, to take this herb and that supplement that are all different depending on the woman and her experience, and so much advice and suggestions drive you a little bonkers and you simply want to just get on with it and stop fussing, because the mad woman is actually enjoying the challenge and even in her discomfort, even if the belly at times is so bloated she cant help but just feel fat, she knows this is such a valuable time and doesn’t actually want to make it easier, because this is part of the process, to feel it, to breath it, to be creative with it, and without the agony of body changing she would miss out on such an experience. Yes that belly knows it is a time for new birth, emerging is the new SHE, the agony of that emergence.

  Well, its not exactly agony, that might be a bit dramatic, its more a fierceness, a hot rage that surges through the body making it so uncomfortable and itchy, yes itchy, so that you want to rub yourself raw with the heat and then that inspires some crazy painting or a poem or words for the next book that seep through the raging skin and there you have something utterly beautifully creative, you need that heat again to bring on the next surge of passion and creative juice!

Who do we become at this time? Letting go of what has been before and some how accepting this new way, this new soul of womanhood. Only the one who experiences can know. It is different for us all. No couple of years can give us that knowledge, no ‘one’ experience, no other woman’s experience, but our own, our own souls calling into the creative spirit that we are. Because at this time our true medicine or power or artistry, will shine through at its fullest, the words we speak, the art we create, the poems, the carefully designed cloth and tapestries and no one, but no one can tell us it should be any other way, but the way we have created it, through all that past experience coming to fruition, the life of our feminine spirit, ready to take her place in the world, to meet with her own power source and let it nourish the very bones of our feminine lineage, that the daughters and sisters will find a way to follow.

 I lay there on that big rock, two days, two nights, cradled in its arms,

relaxed as the sun shone down on my face,

my body, contemplating the meaning of my existence.

I told the rock about my life and all that it involved as I saw it,  

I sang my song for it to hear.

Drifting into the trance of comfort and belonging

I nestle under the sky above me,

looking into the heart of the universe.

What is my name I heard myself ask..ShamanKa-Mama was its reply.

Caroline Carey           www.middleearthmedicine.com

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One step at a time (Voice)

cc-5-fence

Is it a voice?
A passage of words, a diary of keepsakes?
Is it designed to be a different kind of voice,
because it will be heard in a different way?
I guess that’s what I hope for as the stream of energy flows through me and onto every page.
Sometimes I imagine those faces looking at me,
observing the inner dance going on and finding ways to absorb the information.
A channel of light, I like to think.
And I know some of it will meet with resistance and even criticism;
do I care?
What business is it of mine anyway?
But do I care?
Of course I do, could I be anything else but
human on this journey.
I know it is all good teaching though,
I remind myself that it all helps me find ways to improve what I do.
My school teachers would be quite proud of me
– I kid myself;
but there may be some truth in that.
The school report regularly updated
“Caroline could do better”

More effort was needed,
I’ll give them that – well effort  was made in doing things
the only way I knew how to.
But effort for efforts sake, is maybe not the best reason for doing anything.

My mother would not be happy, I am sure.
I imagine her wondering why I didn’t just write a nice story, as I did as a child.
And I would remind her that ‘I am a story and life IS a story and we all live in that play called living.’
Some of us a little closer to the edge of course.
My edge is a precipice close to the sea, where sometimes different beings are buried or lie sleeping.
Yes, that was my dream last night – a recurring dream,
but sometimes the graves are deeper and I have to work a little harder to uncover the sleeping being who lies there.

The dream ties in with the feeling of needing to hold back – as I walk through my life, this story; I begin to feel that pressure of stepping forward as if there is a shroud of energy, making the atmosphere around me heavy and difficult to pass through.
Still, one step at a time, as the aching in my bones and joints yell out, one breath at a time as tiredness try’s to close my eyes to it all,
I know I can bring myself to the other side and move beyond its enforcing control.
One step at a time!

The emotion of course may wish to show itself and that is part of the dance,
the fear and resistance
can have their say,
but cannot be an excuse for stopping dead in those tracks.
Many times I would call to this fear
to lessen its hold on me.
It replies with its usual voice
” but I am one of your very best friends, with out me there would be no journey to explore, nothing to learn from, nothing to move beyond!”
I agree reluctantly and thank my friend called Fear, for reminding me of this and having the good grace to speak out, rather than simply be an observer from the back ground and corners of darkened rooms.
Those areas that I call my ‘shadow’ that will always be some where not so very far away.

Of course in the midst of this my strong and trusty ego flatters herself that she can take charge in those more vulnerable moments and do the work necessary in the world and of course she is right.
She loves that more soulful part of my psyche, the one that every now and again needs time to play in the shadows and drink from the deep pools of forgotten lakes.

But my ego knows that without the delivery of ‘her’ work, all would remain floating on the surface of some obscure little drama pretending that ‘nothing really mattered’, all was as it was meant to be, provided no risks were taken and certainly any kind of ambition would be put firmly to bed.
This she cannot allow to happen!

So as I stir up all these ingredients that are my own stage of heart, body and a rather contemporary mind of more or less than normal function (depending on ones social class or opinion on these matters) it becomes very clear to me that I might just as well get on with it and rather than worry or drop into the possibility of feeling any level of shame – which of course if one starts to  be concerned about what others think then the only emotion to explore IS shame –

I know it is better to make and leave my mark,
leaving something behind after my death than just pretend that I feel nothing at all, even though all the time my own little dance knows better.

And that dance, though moving through its own heaviness now and again
certainly gives this kind of voice a great topic to channel its information from
and without it, maybe not that much would really be brought to life and offered
as a different kind of poetry
for a similar kind of mind as my own.

For sure the rumblings that emerge in these writings
do often come from an un-still mind and the wanderings of a lonely heart,
for this is the way of many melancholic minds
who  awaken quite frequently out of some of the deepest sadnesses
and moments of grief,
into the astoundingly beautiful life we live and simply wonder
how the human race became so unbelievably ridiculous,
themselves included,
they retreat once more into the depths of the heart and soul to gather up the medicine ways of the mind,
the poetry and the dances that is an outlet for those same hidden depths,
seeking the truth of our own existence.

From ~ ‘The Circle, The Fire & The Phoenix’

written by Caroline Carey

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my cultures wounds

middle-earth-image-owlShamanism is about healing our own cultures wounds – and when I look at the dysfunctions around me I get a glimpse of why I follow this path. I’m not sure that shamanism is always the right description for me, I lean towards the Druids, the Celts, the Witches and their craft, the medicine people of this land and every land has its own descriptions alongside its traditional medicine ways, so `I feel that I ‘fit’ more readily with these paths.
When I see my cultures wounds – the addictions, the alcoholism, the sexual wounds, the dysfunctions and societys labels of shame and guilt – the mental instability and lack of self worth, I am drawn to listen, to learn and to play my part.
I am from these shores, this land and I cannot pretend to be from any other. This is my language and my birth place and I want to do what is right for the here and now.
I might learn much form other cultures, but it must adapt and fit into this language, this way of being and I cannot force any other creed or medicine onto it.
When we shine a light on our deepest wounds – we have the opportunity to heal our own hurts without needing to credit a world that we do not fully understand.
This soil, this ground, these rocks and crevices, the trees and flowers are our medicine and the holders of wisdom that is connected to the cellular structure of our wild and free nature.
Returning to that particular dance inside us, frees the blood and the bones of a made-up-structure that does not fit with the indigenous people we are. We can dance ourselves free of what has been forced upon us – we can release the pressure of ‘having to be.’ We can re-member the turning point where we somehow went wrong and turn once more to face the truth and focus on a path that is in service to Good.

Caroline Carey

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‘Mandorla’

Its an interesting word, it means almond in Italian. I sometimes think I’d like to find a different word for it.

The ancient symbol with its profound meaning, was always called the Vesicus Piscis. And that means fishes bladder…even stranger!  So in my work I just think of that place in the middle. The place where polarities meet, where we stand in the tension between opposites and life happens, vibration happens and we feel probably more deeply than at any other time in our lives!

Being a middle child I always knew a little of this place, being born on the solstice also, a place between dark and light. Born in the Midlands was another dimension to it and from those moments many other places from the middle territory, or landscape began to emerge I realized. I became fascinated with this world, which I began to call ‘Middle Earth Medicine Ways.’ I visited Tolkiens home once, a huge Unicorn stood in the garden and a black cat statuette sat on the roof and all manner of strange things lay around. Tolkiens middle earth wasnt my middle earth but we seemed to relate to much of the same magic!

But back to the dance of the Mandorla territory – we are stretched beyond our normal existence and yet, it is part of who we are, the magic of all we can become when we are brave enough to BE that opposing force within us. It exists and we cannot escape it. I have discovered it time and time again, struggled with it, resisted it and pushed it aside. But it always comes back, either biting my ass or seducing me into its lull of familiarity. For it is the essence of who I am and I cannot fight it.

Sound in any way familiar to you or completely alien? Well I feel absolutely sure that we have all felt the pain and profundity of the ‘power of polarities’ within us at some point in our lives. And when we do, how do we react to it?
I learnt  a particular dance, what I would now call medicine, but also a dance of acceptance, the true essence of our soul, the power and the humility that bares us to the bone….that tears our heart to shreds yet re-boots it to a greater strength.

Dancing with the Mandorla is a stance for freedom, for the warrior within us to awaken and be deeply, in no doubt, about our truth. It might shake us as we dance in its wave, it may frighten us when we shed these old skins that enforce a structure too old to be taken seriously any more. And it might shine the greatest light from our core, into the world where there is no escape, but to be seen.

Taking the Mandorla into our journey, into our heart, creating a totally new awareness of who we are, is a brave step to take. It’s a creative one too, for I believe we cannot grow without creativity, its our birth right, no matter who we are, for we are creative beings after all.

If you are called to dance with the Mandorla’s energy and discover your absolute potential from the deepest part of your inner being, come and dance with us.
This is the very first time I am offering the Magic Of Mandorla in the UK, so it is extra special for me. Maybe for you too?

“Sometimes within our individual self and within the self of our worn-out society, there is no answer to conflict. There is, however, a way to stand within the center of the opposing forces. Conflict creates tremendous energy. If we leave out judgement then that ‘energy’ can become a vibration of light. Not always just a single light but many lights, sending out a vibration that is LOVE!” 

Caroline Carey

Here are the details of the our gathering next month:

This work is open to all adults, regardless of gender, age, experience or ability. Whether you want to work with deep-rooted issues, or simply discover new insights, whether you are training in therapeutic studies, or a student of life’s experiences, this work has something to offer you.

17 – 19th February 2017      Friday 7pm – 9.30pm, Saturday 10am – 6pm, Sunday 10am – 5pm
Contact Mags Bradley  mags@movementmedicinesouthcoast.co.uk
Early bird price: £135 paid by 18th Jan. £150  thereafter. Deposit 50%.
Venue:  GuildCare, Methold House, North Street, Worthing,
West Sussex, BN11 1DU

West Sussex website    www.movementmedicinesouthcoast.co.uk

During this workshop, we will use the tools of dance, creativity, movement meditation and constellation-work to work with the magic of the mandorla. You will have the opportunity to explore some of the conflicts in your life, looking at how they play out in your life and how they affect you by embodying them in the dance. Then, with the support of the group and a constellation process held and guided by Caroline and the drum beat, you will enter the space of the mandorla, allowing it to work its magic upon you, bringing the riches of wisdom and new insights.

As human beings, we can exist on multiple planes of being; the one that we are usually most aware of, however, is the material world. By its nature, the material world is a place of duality – a place of opposites that we often experience as being in conflict with one another. Examples include heaven and earth, light and dark, masculine and feminine, loyalty and betrayal, to name but a few. The polarity between these opposites creates a fundamental tension at an evolutionary level that has the potential to be either profoundly destructive or powerfully generative and creative. The evidence of the destructive consequences of this tension lies all around us in the terrible scourges of war, inequality and conflict within and between individuals, groups and societies.

The key to transforming the destructive consequences of conflict into life-affirming outcomes lies in how we relate to the tension between opposites. When we can hold the tension within ourselves, bearing the pain, beauty and terror that this brings, we bring the two opposing elements together, creating a space in which the split between the two can be resolved. We call this space the ‘mandorla’ – a word derived from ‘almond’ in Italian, which refers to the almond shape created when two circles overlap. The mandorla also known as the ‘Vesica Piscis’ is the sacred space of our soul work; when we stand in this place, we have the ability to transform what once was a curse into powerful medicine for the soul. Its energy is that of the Father Mother Principle in the Divine Union, the Mother of all Forms and the Yin and Yang that has been known to us for decades.

༄༅༅༅

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A wretched landscape 

Concrete misshapen paving slab after slab

No where to go but down, no real growth

Just trodden down into shadow and gutter

No place for creature but tamed poisoned or maimed

What nature

Unveiled when hidden and timeless yet knowing she is here

In the cursed wretchedness of a landscape barren with body after body of lifeless despair

Filth beyond filth and not the sort that plays with puddles makes mud and lines footprints with where we have been

But underneath that trodden down cardboard cut out plastic rubbish bag collected one day but forgotten too soon

Homeless wreckage hunger for companion, still emerges sweetness and understanding of a ghost that left a home too many moons ago

Lost in a land of unknown multitudes of belly aches and doctors bills

No time to watch the arena of youth passing by and not notice that it’s changing beyond repair 

Beyond repair if we speak and dare, just dare to be the spoken voice of a game gone wrong

No hope to belong

Not to belong but master the obsession

If possible if one can

If that risk be undone and life prevails  

If life

And if 

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