Archive for the ‘My Writings’ Category

My “Tip Sheet” for the day …

Friday, June 15th, 2012

Home Free

What if …
i was created from a place of …
unconditional love
i was born into a world of
unconditional love
nature and animals
spirits, fairies and more
creator, divinity, source, the universe
all supporting me freely, eagerly, playfully
lovingly
I looked into the mirror and saw
I am perfect as I am
always
i was never broken in need of fixing
I never made a single mistake
I never made a wrong choice
there is no need to be forgiven
there is nothing to forgive
there is
only love endlessly pouring itself out
embracing me
caressing me
inspiring me
to just be
me
when i die
i re emerge into
the pure energy of unconditional love
from whence i was born and came from
it has always been
and will always be
there were no problems
challenges
blocks
keeping me from me
only
the human constructs
i created
the glasses i have been wearing
tearing myself and my world apart
into little pieces
categorizing separating
Oneness
in my mind
i was blind to
true Oneness
I only needed
a Change in Perspective
to set myself free
there is only beauty now
whatever i see
is me
all the Mind Chatter
suddenly ceases to be
Silence emerges
embracing me
guilt judgment fear resentment
all fall away
i am perfect as i am
everyone is
and will forever be
in the Silence of Now
i hear me
i hear love calling my name
i hear
The Voice
inside of me
always there
never ending
guiding me home
into myself
free at last
free
at last
i am home
free
being me
the silence
embracing us all
in love

© Morgine Jurdan
June 15, 2012

Journey in writing WC Julie 6-2012

Thursday, June 14th, 2012

my primal life on earth is
the journey itself   the experiences and how I was in them  not the outstanding memorable moments  i believe it is probably the moments in between which seemed so ordinary before I began becoming more aware of them   watching the fish in our tank or in the river  watching my children breathe or run and play with the dogs  the fog settling in at the oceans edge   like I heard say one day… a famous painter did not paint the sunlight on the leaves rather he painted the spaces in between and the leaves appeared   when focused in between the highlights become less important and the colors in between are richer

the life i created on earth have been  miraculous spectaculous amazing i have come to  embrace them and trace them with fingers soaked in unconditional love and grace   tracing my face upon the canvas of life and how my desire to live as love  this precious journey has taken me places other journeys would not have gone  has presented me with circumstances to challenge my ways of thinking  so I could step outside the boxes in which I was living and see more clearly things as they might be free of normal definitions   right wrong good bad beneficial dangerous  what if I remove all those values and judgments and let them all  go  how many layers and layers of thought  of painted words wash away, fall into compost on the ground leaving only the naked pristine truth for me to view once and for all   seeing what was hidden before inside the hands attempting to control how they live  i am surrendering more into the flow of life  to the divine spark I am trusting the flow of the river more than ever before adoring me for a change and the life I have lived

my journey is to travel through life as the adventure it was meant to be   skinny dipping in rippling water falls playing as the child I am inside    going to new places and meeting new people   having fun exploring new places, mysterious and inviting.  i want to live in the moment, my life as a work of art ever changing and making a great conversation about the new paths i have traveled   visiting junk stores and exploring antiques  wearing old clothes with new ones, and sitting inside quiet churches contemplating those who built them centuries ago and all who might have sat in their pews   playing music in my car   camping out under the stars next to a bright warm fire    i never tire spending time in nature,  walking the ocean’s shores, visiting cultures I have not seen before  making those bridges which connect all our hearts into one song   making monuments of our lives in which we all swim in the same ocean and eat similar foods and sing songs which unite us all whether we live in the prairie and desert or high in the mountains covered with snow  discovery awaits us every day as the sun climbs up over the mountain tops and another juicy adventure awaits

Wednesday writing WC Julie 6-2012

Thursday, June 14th, 2012

Julie read some writing ….

my writing today is for…..

my writing is from my heart   open and free  deep and longing for the truth  clean  clear looking from within and without   attempting to just breathe in and breathe out in the now moment  free of struggles   really in that space where I am free of attempting  flowing like a river noticing the nuances of color reflecting on the dew drops on the spider’s web of the reflection in a puddle on the sidewalk or weeds flowering and growing in between each crack in order along the center of the freeway hanging out as if to greet the cars and passerby’s   with some unexpected hello and greeting    meeting life on its own terms instead of forcing the moment or attempting to capture something with the intention of making something happen  flowing and allowing the glow to arise on its own if it does or does not

when i let my writing light come through

i am in the zone   just me alone honing my skills up and down the hills of my spine the vines of my writing lining up with some hidden sparks in the dark sitting waiting patiently for me to see them shimmer glimmering for me neatly or chaotically as if stars shooting across the night sky surprising me with their beauty and yet gone in a flash if I don’t dash to catch them in the moment of their arrival  they will not survive a trip to the bathroom or fridge  the ridge they sink behind is not for me to climb again  they send my boquets and i must catch them in a flash dash to the keyboard sword in hand  sometimes sticking the tip in the air hoping to catch a few here and there  and some days i dare not rest for the feast just keeps being delivered whether I am full or not I must eat until the words have run their course and given me to overflowing in the bounty upon the page  the rage of words pure and pristine from the unseen places they grace my life when I choose to give them life

then read some memoir lady whose mother’s journals were  blank   women who were birds …

my writing for today is for

the place i adore in me  which freed me from pain today as i lay backwards in the dentists chair to bear the long humming and screaming of the chisels and lasers tearing off chunks of tarter beneath my gums and i humming with classical music relaxing   a little nitric oxide now and then    amazing myself at how peaceful I could be  me afraid of dentists my entire life  yet the regular dentist here causes no pain   this assistant offered me novocaine and I tried without it    me the woman in fear and yet no tears came  i remained calm through the entire hour and a half amazing us all   today I write for all those angels and friends who helped me remain sane and relaxed in this amazing moment of my life

when I let the light of my writing come through

i wonder at the miracles of life and how underneath it all the magic lies waiting to be uncovered and discovered by a child at play  w hat makes rainbows arch across the sky and birds and bees to fly    the caterpillar surrender into the soup of unknown design and out climbs a butterfly and why or why I wonder   i ponder with child like amazement at tiny bugs who can carry more than me if they were the size of a tree and a flea who can make one miserable even though it can barely be seen   i looked at photos of creatures quite bizarre  these tiny microscopic beetles or mites which live in my hair  they crawl around up there making it beautiful and clean and give it that shiny sheen    I wonder if they survive the shampoo and rinse of if they die each time and new ones are born to adorn my head and just appear amidst the rivers of waterfalls i spray all over the place to erase the soap    there are so many things I might never understand and yet their magic lives on and on every day playing around me  inspiring me to wonder even more and perhaps adore my journey with greater zest so i don’t forget the rest of my life and how important play is today and every day  amazed I am today

Narrative Pages WC Julie 6-2012

Wednesday, June 13th, 2012

Narrative page banks for Julie’s class

0-10  nature  writing  animals  playing outside dad drinking .. pain severe psoriasis  inspired me to read  i could be president he said  mom taught me cooking sewing loving all peoples of different colors and religions   fighting sister  cat skunk myna bird  chameleons mouse rat

11-20  best friend died on operating table creativity inspired writing jerry love poems   graduate highschool  special relationship between old cat Blacky and Jerry’s doberman Melody  dog killed by eating raw meat thrown in yard with strychnine  having my own children   moving away from san fernando valley CA to Colorado

21-30  living in colorado for the first time ever “in town” very difficult  moved into house with two levels had to always go up and down stairs coming in front door and moved to another home later … our choice …because we found out house’s owner had to move back to town as job ended and they were renting another home… had a nice back yard and little garden space   moved to Iowa  living on 2 acres  huge huge garden space  lots of animals milking goats ponies, dogs cat gerbils rats birds, fish  4H dogs classes  Denver won many awards with her dog who had distemper when she adopted him

31-40  changed to organic gardening and eating … moved to Washington… that was a journey in itself with trailer breaking off in Yellowstone by a cliff and Jeep blowing oil line and other things and keeping 2 birds warm every day during the several days it took to get here…  were teddy bear artists  making bears designing and making from scratch including clothes,  furniture and so on for collectors for almost 10 years supporting our teenage children  very creative and loving experience except financial challenges and almost losing home … stopped because of health concerns inhaling teddy bear fabrics and stuffing  introduced to Seth by Jane Roberts and reality creation entire perspectives of life changed

41-50   children began working away from home at YWCA camp  Andy went to Peru as foreign exchange student for a year  learned animal communication to help our two dogs from fighting… Denver’s old dog coming home and meeting Jerry’s new young dog  led to animal communication to resolve issue  people began calling and I had not told anyone and later led to me taking more classes and becoming animal communicator and communicating with nature  grew garden in front yard no fence and deer never ate anything  animals teaching me how to live as love

51-63  Jerry stepped away from our relationship  we became room mates after making love almost daily for over 30 years  Even thought I knew it was somehow a gift i went through my deep night of the soul by journaling which saved my life.. .. very painful and finally saw the gift  was not being authentically ourselves either of us confused about my purpose and passion and gathering clarity learning to be happier and more focused on feeling better

……………………..
Narrative in fourths   Theme…  MOVING
1-23  Living in same home until my parents separated and moved to house a couple minutes walk from my original house  I got married … moved to Reseda house when married and then moved to house my Mom moved out of by my original house and just above Jerry’s house…could walk down hill to his Mom’s house my second Mom

24-27  about  moved to Colorado to first house and had to go up and down from front door…   lived there for a few months until we learned the owner had to move back to town as job ended and was renting another home so we, on our own moved to another house with a nice back yard and basement again to a home “in town” instead of living rurally  that was difficult  had a tiny garden  kids took trip to CA to visit my Mom and Jerry’s Mom and we drove to Salt Lake city for Jerry’s work

30-35 about Moving  to Iowa  living in motel until we found a house..  found a house in  a small town of 900 people with 300 children in one school room   growing about half of our food learned to dry freeze can and more  and more then job offer came to move to WA  sat down with Denver and Andy and discussed everyone’s feelings concerns wishes and such until it was a unanimous decision to move to WA

36 – 63 about moving from Iowa driving Jeep pulling horse trailer with horse and cat and some possessions and Jerry driving moving van pulling trailer  an entire book in itself with trailer broke off and park rangers had to cut off tarp and unload our stuff and put into their big truck and took care of our children and animals until we drove hundreds of miles for another uHaul trailer ..keeping the birds warm in the cab of the truck  the jeep blowing an oil line in a town with only 9 people and finding the part we needed…

one page autobiography exercise WC Julie 6-2012

Tuesday, June 12th, 2012

I was born into nature, a water fall sang itself into a little cement pond my father had built by the patio, animals were around, sunshine, a path winding on the hill which ran behind my house over to my father’s studio and my grandmother’s room in the back. I spent much of my time outside in the California sun, the ocean breezes not too far away over the San Diego mountains.  Small windy roads barren of side walks woven between small cabin homes planted upon desert hills filled with sage brush, cactus and tumbleweeds. I played games, dug forts, built tree houses with the neighborhood boys in among the scorpions, tarantula spiders, and rattle snakes! We were well schooled in such things, including picking up any shiny pieces of glass we might see before it became the source of a fire burning down our homes. The flaming fingers of the sun magnified upon some dry parched piece of gray greasewood. If anyone saw a flame or smoke they came running with a shovel!

My father authentic, flamboyant, a well known industrial designer and teacher at Art Center College of Design.  He inspired me to read and write and told me I could be anything I wanted, even President of the United States because I could learn to do anything in the library.  He suffered from severe psoriasis and bursitis and would drink to ease the pain and I have a few painful memories interspersed with the more fond ones. My mother, much more shy and reserved was a great cook and taught me how to bake homemade bread, how to sew clothes and love people of all colors and religions.

My best friend, my childhood sweetheart, closer to me than my own sister, who did not like me very much, died on the operating table when we about about 12, leaving me to be consoled by my rat, a myna bird, my chameleons, a cat and skunk.  I hated God for a while not understanding the sudden death of my life long friend who was not even ill.  My future husband, slightly older,  heard those tears and years later, when I was wheeled out of the delivery room with our second child, a boy, he said, “and his name is Andy” after our childhood friend.

Two years before came Denver our daughter, and me a mother only a year out of high school. We all moved to Colorado when Jerry got a job there and then onto Iowa. We had a huge garden growing a lot of our own foods and were still surrounded by a menagerie of animals including 2 milking goats, 2 ponies, 2 horses, 2 rabbits, dogs, a cat, gerbils, rats, birds and fish. I managed the house and garden and the children all their own animals. We worked hard and created a lot of our own fun in those days.

Eventually we came to rest where we wanted in the Pacific Northwest, bringing only a horse, 2 dogs, a cat and 2 birds along with us in an amazing journey in which a trailer broke behind the moving van in the middle of Yellowstone at the edge of a cliff. We became self employed artists  for a while, creating hand made teddy bears from scratch for collectors for almost 10 years. Later some problems with our two dogs, dropped a book about animal communication into my hand which eventually inspired a new profession which also included my passion for writing arising once again. Morgine

write the sun first hits the hills in the morning – WC Julie 6-2012

Tuesday, June 12th, 2012

i love watching the fingers of the sun ever so gently fingering the world awake every day as the world spins around, arching and turning, whirling in space.  Fingers of light gently caressing and expressing itself onto the canvas of earth, its golden glow like a river of etherial light flowing across the landscape waking up the world for yet another day of play.

the birds begin to rise and lift their songs upon the air and then the bears come sleepily out of the dens the hens begin clicking and human fingers pull away the covers from their eyes as they take some long deep breaths and stretching fully before getting up and out of bed.

morgine

my life as a work of art – Writing Camp 6-2012

Tuesday, June 12th, 2012

my life as a kind of artwork   I am an original unique one of a kind work of art  there is only one me here to see and experience  no other  of course i can wear different personas   different people can have different perspectives   i can even have and have had different perspectives of myself depending on where I am viewing myself from   no one knows me as i do, naked bare skin the truth glowing in the light of day  no one sees life through my filters and yet I have often been confused and looking at myself through other people’s lenses   before now I often did not recognize and own my own beauty and brilliance   i covered my eyes will filters put in place by a society and culture which would have me conform to their acceptable ways of being and fitting in… i would judge myself as distorted, misshapen, not having an acceptable figure until now the truth is revealed pure pristine and perfect more beautiful than words could embrace and trace onto the page

morgine

Being the Body -Adela 8-1-2011

Monday, August 1st, 2011

finishing my writing on Truth and freedom

 

Truth frees me like nothing else. I breathe into and out of who I am Being.  Being in the now, letting everything go, discarding all my points of view like old dirty clothes or perhaps ones no longer in style here and now.  I stand in neutral, feeling the air kissing my skin. I hear myself breathing, and feeling my tongue in my mouth as I swallow. I sink in deeper and deeper, as birds sing outside my window, and I feel a hair brush across my face, dust particles lighting up the air, their tiny bodies sparkling. Ah yes, as I inhale the feeling of YES as it arises on its own, without my awareness. That feeling which so slightly and yet strongly reverberates through every cell of my being. My hairs stand taller as if at attention. My breath a little more steady and clear. I hear it, that voice of truth which arises from deep within the deep within.  From the void of me, the place where all brilliance lies dormant and waiting for its moment of birth.  Truth frees me into the authenticity of here and now and the preciousness I am here to be.

Truth can be clear and joyful and can also make me cry dry and parched tears, fears rising to the surface, red heat rising as I am guided into my next bigger step.  I like to pretend I am not my own best answer, yet the truth is always present between the doubts, the pain, the endless angry voices screaming inside and outside of me.  “I feel stuck and don’t know what to do!!! “ How many times have I said this phrase to my friends, a coach, a psychic reader?  I keep seeking answers only I can give myself!! As Krishnamurti said, “One is never afraid of the unknown; one is afraid of the known coming to an end.”  No room to hide in a room filled with mirrors!

I am a loving person I told myself, “without conditions,” as my partner of 35 years stepped away. Yet I found envy hiding within my cells, fears of abandonment, jealousy, anger raising their little big heads into my life! Truth is personal, authentic and pierces those glass walls I try and hide behind.  Yet when I can live in my own Truth, then my authenticity truly glows and who I am radiates out for anyone to see. I become open and vulnerable, willing to release role playing and conforming in exchange for my unique creative spirit, splashing its colors across the sky and into a bight new world. I can laugh, cry, or scream in any moment my own precious Truth, resisting nothing, as I open myself more fully into a world eager for my fuller authentic participation.

I remember how much I used to not like …

Tuesday, November 2nd, 2010

I remember how much I used to not  like …
raw fish  smoked salmon

I remember how much I used to not like raw fish. My father returned from Japan eating raw fish and raw eggs. Sometimes I would gag just at the thought of it. I loved the delicate crispy fried tempura, eating vegetables I would hate in other ways, just keep that uncooked, cold, raw dead fishy out of my mouth!  How can you eat cold slimy stuff like that I pondered, feeling that gaging reflex in my throat. Uggh! I watched my father swallow his raw egg from a little glass and I wanted to run to the bathroom and barf as if I was doing it myself.  I was only about 8 or 9 years old! The thought alone made me sick and watching was even worse.

I remember the night at the restaurant when he forced me to take a taste.  Just a little bite, he coaxed me.  He told me I would never know what I might be missing if I did not taste it first, like he did over in Japan. He thought he would hate it too, and he loved it. So I put that cold, raw, slimy, shiny piece of red tuna on my tongue. Wow it almost melted. It was different than I had imagined, especially with a little soy sauce on it.  I liked it! In fact I loved it.  Later my father would decide he might not have made such a wise choice in forcing me to taste it. Whenever we went to a Japanese restaurant, I wanted Sashimi, as it is called, the most expensive thing on the menu. I would order just what I liked best and even do so today. My favorite is called a rainbow roll which is five or six different kinds of raw fish, all rolled side by side interspersed with some avocado and shrimp.  It is almost too beautiful to eat and yet I do so anyway!!

when I think of this moment of bliss

Thursday, October 28th, 2010

when I think of this moment of bliss I remember how Julie is one of the most magical inspiring teachers i know   it does not matter the mood I am in  what just happened in my morning or my day   Julie’s heart transforms me   she keeps prodding me to write  she inspires me to write  she encourages me, pulls me along screaming and complaining with my endless line of but I have to do this first ….   she is in my heart some days  she lives there reminding me personally of what my life is about like hers   yet she lives her and I allow mine to wallow in the moments become fallow  stuck  unused abused with putting my work first and my love last  what does that say for someone who might be a partner  me desiring a new love in my life  perhaps when I put this love first of all then my other loves will stand a chance of making their presence more well known   i continue to be drawn back to where I need to be with the patience of this incredible woman   I wish I could shower her  with millions of dollars for the richness she continues to sprinkle back into my life when I take time to write  For writing alone has brought more wealth into my life than anything I have ever ever done and I wish I could give something back in kind   more tangible perhaps than my gratitude