Skip to main content

Svadhisthana


Sacral and sacred. Warm, illuminating, energising. Aglow with the passion of fire, I give you freedom, freedom to feel. Trust me. Pleasure, not forbidden, essential. Embrace me. The sweetness of Intimacy. Sensual connection. Surrender.

Creation. The core of me. I invite you to embrace the artist within. Long languid afternoons with liquid inks and flower pressed paper. Charcoal smudged fingers and paint splattered feet. Prose and print making, creating your mark. Come, I call. Come play with me.


Change. I give you permission. Whilst I wrap you in robes of saffron security, I encourage transformation. Feel your way, following your emotional map. Intuition is key. Feel and follow through. Take action.

The scent of citrus and sandalwood soothes me. I am one with the energies of Citrine, Calcite and Carnelian. Cinnamon, honey and passionfruit feed me. Associated with water I give you access to flow, flexibility and fun.

Second in a sequence of energy centres, not one greater than the other. I inspire, encourage and attract.

I am Chakra.

I am Svadhisthana.

I am orange.


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Broken free

I made an angel. Created her out of clay. Painstakingly I sculpted and moulded her. I loved her. I loved her heavy wings, they way they sheltered her and protected her heart. I loved that tiny heart, the way she looked down on to it "I will always look after you" she whispered, "you are safe".  Until the day she broke.   My son rang me on my way home. His voice was shaky, apprehensive. "Something terrible has happened" he mumbled. Moving straight into mother mode, I panicked. "What is it?? Are you ok??" "I broke her...I didn't mean to... she fell...I tried to catch her...I wasn't quick enough"  Oh My god... who?, where? What the?????? "Your angel mum... she smashed!!" The poor boy. He knew I loved her, created her, protected her. But the sense of relief was instant. Just a sculpture, not a life, a girl or an animal. Just a sculpture. It wasn't long however that the realisation of what had just...

Dream-song - A Tribute to Shavarnia

Once upon a time there was a girl. A girl with aspirations and dreams. Dreams of colour, of movement, of dance. Of spirit and angels and love. As the girl grew she was taught a great many things. How to walk, how to hold herself, what to think, what to wear, how to act. The girl with the dreams kept dreaming but her dreams were now in the background and her REAL life was all around her. Every now and then the girl would focus on her forgotten dream and in return the dream would sing to her. The dream-song was so beautiful. It sang of a life of purpose and peace. The girl tried to follow the music of her dream-song however she often lost her way and the song would fade into the background again. After many years of this following and fading, the girl fell to her knees and wept. She wept for the dream lost. She wept for the futility of her REAL life. Her face awash with broken hearted tears, the girl gave up. Gave up trying to find balance between her dreams and her responsibi...

Neuralyze me

Remember the Neuralyzer from the MIB (Men In Black) movies? One zap and all memory of what just happened was erased! Zappo. Gone! No-one ran from the scene in hysterics, screaming Aliens, Aliens, we’re all going to die! No one went home and built alien proof homes or developed elaborate alien detection systems…preparing for the worst. One zap and they simply continued their day, completely unaware and at peace in the moment. So, I have been thinking about this (and learning some stuff too). What if we couldn’t remember our past experiences? I mean really, didn’t know what we had been doing or feeling back there. What if we didn’t have any memory of our job, our finances, our likes and dis-likes?  What if we couldn’t conjure up past agreements with ourselves, ‘I’ll never do that again, I’ll be better next time, I won’t break it, drop it, lose it!” I wonder what we would do if we woke up one day with just the daylight and nothing else? How then, would our day unfold? I t...