Can you feel it as well? Beneath the chaos and destruction, a beautiful world is present that is harmonious and caring. Many more people than ever before are rediscovering their own light and goodness and are cultivating, despite all odds, forgiveness and love for self and their communities. They connect to an innate source that words can rarely translate.

Through music, the blossoming of a flower, or the birth of a child, this tender force that moves us to tears, is at the core of our humanity. Call it compassion, call it love or beauty. It is life inviting us to change our focus opening our hearts to redefine our future.

I invite you to check where your focus is. Is it on the past that you cannot change? The doings of others, where you have no influence or is it on what you personally most desire? 

You always have a choice to create that what you most aspire to live. Going against the general current might ask some courage. Take courage to create what you want rather than fight what you do not want and get some inspiration in The Garden of Rose.

We are deeply connected to the cycles of the natural world and the universe as many indigenous traditions know. This source of life is beautifully reflected in the wise face of the moon.


As Rose would say…

“This moon, that mother of all oceans big and small; that face that wisely holds our inner tide, reminding all women who want to feel how we are linked to all there is of water on this planet. Not like mother earth accepting seed sown by the wind. Not like father sun that by his shine made many cultures worship him as gold that grew in the womb of earth making all that counts material. From cross to food, from chicken to bread. It is the that very moon that in her trinity so conveniently forgotten, that led the way of many conquerors. Stout men with pipes and broken eyes like eggs on Sunday. The moon, the true guide down the discovery lane of history. The one that hand in hand with sunray gave us time to structure our history across the oceans. The moon, that grandmother, that dear round silver face on her better days, tells us when to mate and expect children from the firmament. She is the one who holds the waters before they brake. She is the one who transforms innocent men into monsters for whom stands open to her shadows. She is the one that guides our very own bloodstream for months on end, in rhymes only felt by the wisest of women. She is the guide we truly should be looking for. She does not blind us, changes shape apparently, yet reminding us, all the same, that we too are one big dance of singing organisms on the tide, reflecting rainbow colours.”