Waking The Wild Sovereign is full . That’s all eight places in our crucible focused on Soul-led, Heart-Centred Sovereignty filled with the right people who are ready to rise and deepen into being the powerfully magical Kings and Queens they came here to be.

Breaking up with “normal” is the best thing I ever did. It’s allowed me to do life my way… to give up the never-ending quest to stop being weird and to fit in, and to walk the path of becoming who I came here to be.

“We kissed at the barrier; and passing through

She left me, and moment by moment got

Smaller and smaller, until to my view

She was but a spot;”

Thomas Hardy

I notice my life and therefore my writing follows themes… at the moment, the theme has been a lot of our students asking “How” questions.

She whispers from the sheets,

her voice an inner smile –

Stay in sweet surrender

and I’ll make it worth your while.

She whispers from the sheets,

her voice an inner smile –

Stay in sweet surrender

and I’ll make it worth your while.

It’s a myth that one day we’ll feel powerful enough, courageous enough, resourced enough, healed enough, supported enough, protected enough, enough enough to feel ready to be the fullness of who we came here to be without any pain, fear or risk.

The topic of fairness is showing up a lot in the Wild Medicine circle and with 1:1 clients… these are powerful men and women who came here with big soul missions, constricting, judging and repressing themselves in the name of fairness.

I recorded a podcast episode yesterday with a lovely chap, a psychotherapist, called Paul Leslie. Part of our conversation was about the idea of a “context” for our lives, meaning the frame or perspective we live our life from.

For anyone caught up in trying to live life based on our culture’s conditions, it will feel meaningless and hard much of the time… for neurodivergents and magically-gifted people (often one and the same), this goes double.

Our people are the wild ones, the misfits, the magical ones, the neurodivergents, the medicinal ones, the powerful leaders who model loving and truthful ways of living… they’re unique, of course, but the commonality they share is that they didn’t come here to fit neatly and politely into this culture, they came to shake things up… to either herald in new ways or to reclaim the ancient ways, sometimes both, and always aligned with their Soul’s True Will.

I sometimes find myself in conversations about “success” and when I ask someone to share their definition of it, they realise the trusty societal landmarks and milestones with which they used confidently to measure success have been left behind on a worn and dusty game board upon which it no longer makes sense for them to place their piece.

This face experienced fifteen years of chronic pain. It began with an attack in which my nose was broken and my brow slashed so deeply I thought I’d lost my sight because my eyes were filled with blood.

Despite my many years of experience of nature-based soul and spirit work, my current devotion to shamanic work, and clients calling me a shamaness for years before it was even something in my own awareness, I don’t call myself a shaman and I don’t know if I ever will.

I’m taking longer than expected to integrate and land after the last shamanic initiation.

A seer I know said she felt I’m shedding a skin… she’s right; I feel raw, unmade, wide open. The doors have been well and truly blown off. I haven’t really been writing, I haven’t been replying to messages and emails, I haven’t been putting big ideas into motion… In short, I haven’t been creating.

I see your selfies.

Your smiles concealed by

duck faces.

Your duck face concealed by

filters.

And despite it all,

your swan.

I see your breast milk,

secretly spattered everywhere,

like a crime scene under UV light.

I see your liquid gold

and raise you

up.

Men,

we want to tame you,

contain you,

restrain you.

Take away your roar.

There’s no safe place for your strength.

Your directness is a damned affront.

Your hardness isn’t welcome here.

“I learned about the sacred art of self decoration with the monarch butterflies perched atop my head, lightning bugs as my night jewellery, and emerald-green frogs as bracelets.” Clarissa Pinkola Estés …or when a dress isn’t just a dress

By Lian Brook-Tyler

Your arrival was

heralded in words like

sanitary, applicators, cramps.

You seemed functional,

I felt nothing much at all.

When you came,

the battle was a lonely one,

with a tampon stubbornly stuck.

You seemed like the enemy,

I felt scared and small.

I’m writing this sitting in my fave Thai restaurant, glowing with joy. 🥰There’s something about my Wednesday afternoons off that absolutely THRILLS me… way beyond the amazing Thai feast, massages, choosing lovely treats for the family, wandering in the wild, and sitting in the garden reading (though admittedly, they are all glorious!)