Dear Western Woman


Dear Western Woman




Welcome beautiful one. As I have transitioned from mother of two to mother of three, I have been re-immersed into the depths of motherhood. Another shift in the life phase I am in. As I learn to surrender and honour this phase, I am called to write. With my soul yearning for simplicity, and with a family that is almost all set to travel Australia, my words become my craft. As I have sat with the exploration of the writer archetype, my heart sings. The writer within is ready to be revealed.  Recently in my journal I wrote:

Knowing full well that words couldn’t say it all, she knew that they were enough.

Enough to tug at the strings of the hearts of those able to read between the lines.

She knew that the words were simply a way of weaving the fabric of truth that held the women of the seventh fire together.

The women who were here to help create a new world.

Her words were her gift.

The way she could capture her living legacy.

Her words became her path to her remembrance. And her way of helping others to remember too.

She learned exactly how to share.

Potently. Powerfully. Peacefully.


Her words were enough.

A hymn to the heart and a song to the soul.

No convincing was required.

Reading her words felt like clearing the fog from a mirror to reveal a reflection that you were somehow already intimately familiar with, yet had never seen clearly.

Recently, I have become more aware of the power of words. I’ve discovered that it’s not necessarily new information that makes writing potent. It’s the resonance. When we read words that activate something within us – a deep knowing, a sense of resonance, a feeling of being seen, or a spark of curiosity – words become more than letters on a page. I like knowing this.

Today, on my daily walk with my son, I wrote some words. Words that I humbly share knowing that they might activate something within you.

western woman healing

Western Woman


They say the world will be saved by the western woman.

For she is the one who lives in the modern world, and she has the one who can remember.

As humanity stands at the precipice, a crossroads, we hold the power in our wombs to pave the journey ahead.

We are being called to summons up our sacred rage and press forward our tender breasts full of golden mothers’ milk. We are being called to gather the wisdom that will connect the ancient ways of our ancestors to the earthly binds beneath our feet.

The invitation is here, and the route lies in the roots of our souls.

As we bring forth the codes that heal and reveal, there are many challenges we will face as we stand between a world that has forgotten and the world that is calling us forth. We become the bridge to the sacred path that lies ahead.

We must remember how to pave the safe path.

We will not lie down for our scars to be covered in soil and dust as the heavy feet of consumerism walk all over us. NO!

We will stand strong and untied as the bridge becomes us.

This bridge is not a bolted steel linear crossing between the mountains that hold the wisdom of her waters in the valley beneath. The bridge is a spiral.

A spiral of reclamation where the blood of our womb seeps into the waters of the earth igniting a sacred passage. Woman and earth becoming one.

Sacred wombs united, our hearth paves the new way.

As we walk our spiralling path we may wonder if we are spiralling out of control. Navigating the obstacles of oppression, depletion, sister wounds, and self-sabotage.

With each wobble, we grow.

The gravitational pull of truth so strong that we don’t waiver.

We inhale.



And step.

Streaming in the light codes from above.

Drawing up the earth wisdom from below.

Welcoming in the eternal moment that is now.

Our womb works its mystical magic.

With each harmonious pulsation, heart and womb birth the breath of our future. The breath that will one day be the wind that kisses the trees, the air that bubbles up from the depths of the ocean and the fuel that stokes our fires.

The progression may feel snail’s pace, but the snail knows to go slow for a reason.

Born from the seed of original wisdom, she has never forgotten…


It is time to trust.

It is time to rise.

It is time to spiral.

It is time to anchor.

It is time to flow.

It is time to activate.

It is time to remember.


The heart song of the new world is calling.

The voices of our ancestors are echoing.

The truth of our womb is whispering.

It is time to answer her call.


I wonder where your life phase is guiding you?

I wonder what is living inside of you wanting to be expressed?

As we prepare to travel, it is my intention to continue to write and share musings from my soul as I learn from my experiences of motherhood and from the land.

Thank you for reading. I appreciate you.

Townsville, NQ Osteo Clinic, 182 Fulham Road