The Howl

When I was a young girl aged nine I received a life changing gift. A beautiful wild Australian dog. A kelpie dingo cross that Mum got from the RSPCA. I still recall the moment I glimpsed her leaping from the back of Dad’s purple valiant. Her swift entrance into my life was unexpected. It was love at first sight. Her quick footedness, bright spirit, slim figure and gorgeous red coat put my Georgie girl in a class of her own. She became an excellent protector and companion.

In the throes of new love I also knew that one day my dog would die. I knew then, at nine, that I would not be able to hold onto these feelings of love that I felt. I knew at the beginning that an ending would come. This thought was too much for my child heart to bear. I quickly buried my realization like a bone in the backyard.

We had many years of adventures together. We were even photographed in the local paper with the headline “Everywhere that Angela goes,” with a picture of Georgie sitting on the back of my bicycle. Dogs had way more freedom in those days; none were chipped and few were ever seen on a leash. My Georgie girl howled at the moon, caught frisbees and swam in the sea. She followed me closely in the day and ran free and wild at night. She’d arrive home before dawn to rest and dream a little. I loved her free spirit and everything about her.

Slowly her back legs grew weak and sometimes she couldn’t walk. She died when I was 21, hit by a car and unable to run away fast enough with her legs so weak. When I heard the news I felt a bruise in my heart. I had distanced myself from Georgie well before her death. This pulling away was a self protective measure. I was uninitiated into the mysteries and blessings of death and had no tools for coping with the loss of my dog as a young woman. I didn’t contact my feelings in those days, in fact I avoided them like the plague.

Life brought me many opportunities to learn about the power and beauty of death, dying, change and letting go. However awful the loss may look and feel like on the surface, still, underneath I always found riches, much unexpected treasure. Uninvited deaths have brought me intense grief, but given me incredible gifts too. With loss I’ve gained empathy, insight, awareness and immense gratitude for all the ways love has danced through me … in and out of my life.

Life is not linear, it doesn’t move in a straight line like I was taught in school. Far from it. Life is circular and cyclic. I’ve had many new beginnings, achievements, experiences, adventures and then also many unwanted letting go’s, deaths and endings. Despite constant movement and change one truth remains. All our power is here now in this very precious moment.

Five years after my dog died a small baby bird fell from its nest during a windy rain storm. I’d been eagerly watching the parent birds feed the little ones for weeks from my loft where I had a good view of the daily activities of the nest. When I found the tiny featherless creature dead on the wet earth beneath the tree something inside me cracked opened. Firstly, I began to cry and soon I was sobbing. Waves of grief flowed through me. When my boyfriend came out from the cabin to see what my howls were about he was bewildered. He couldn’t make sense of the situation and assured me I was seriously over reacting. It was just a dead bird.

There’s a line in A Course in Miracles that says “you’re never upset for the reason you think.” All that parental bird work I had watched for weeks on end seemed pointless. This one dear small little bird life hadn’t made it. The sight of the lifeless creature on the ground had bypassed my thinking mind and reached further into something much more tender and deeper inside me.

Many years before a part of me had died too but I wasn’t in touch with that part. I’d been a dancer, performer and choreographer in my youth for very many years. When I was sent to boarding school at sixteen, I stopped dancing completely. For years I felt cut off at the root.

The well of grief inside me about this disconnection with a part of myself was invisible to me and immense. For years I worked hard to become someone I felt I should be (what others expected of me) rather than become myself.

I created a false self which covered over me. My real feelings underneath felt too big for me face. Throughout all this I discovered that the beauty of our spirit and inner truth cannot be destroyed by anything external. Bad choices, wrong turns, disconnections, failures, famines, breakdowns, heartbreak and even illness does not change who and what we are at our core.

Grief may seem to come ‘out of nowhere’. Yet grief doesn’t come from nowhere. It comes from inside us. In my case it came from not being able to express my artistic spirit. Like stagnant water, grief too, can become lodged within our lungs, stifling our spirit and swamping our joy. After rainfall, rivers are washed clean. So it is too with us.

Grief can open the soul in a way nothing else can.

Grief can expand us and open our capacity to let love in.

Grief can open us up to new ideas and creativity.

Grief can be meaningful, nourishing and life affirming.

Grief can be a beautiful stream that may even lead to peace, completion and reverence for Life itself.

Grief can birth gratitude.

Grief can birth grace.

Like a good wine, grief may still be waiting for us down in the cellar. That’s okay, there’s no rush to get to it. You can’t force it. One day grief may just turn up unexpectedly out of nowhere. If and when this happens, you’re not losing it. Open the bottle with gentleness.

First, we take the lid off and let it breathe. We each grieve in a way that is meaningful to us. For some it will be with nature, the earth and the sea. For others with a loved one. For some with children. For some with spirit, god or the universe directly.

When it comes to flowing feelings with ease, we can learn much from our youngest people. Babies and kids are awesome at it. I’m getting much better at it. I’m noticing that I’m slowly becoming more tender with myself when tears and other big feelings come. And as for wild dogs and other creatures they go with it and they don’t hold anything back. They know the soul soothing freedom that comes with a good howl.

Little Women

I just saw a delightful movie with my daughter, called Little Women. What a Beauty! So flipping awesome to see the epic bonds between women up on the big screen. Little Women was first published in 1868 and it brings timeless wisdom to me here in 2020. The original novel was penned in calligraphy ink by Louisa May Alcott over one hundred and fifty years ago. I can imagine the author sitting beside her oil lamp at night writing this novel as I write this now. Little Women is a triumph of a film for our burnt out world.

As I see it the light side of the love between women is…

The Nurturing.

The Joy.

The Hugs.

The Fun.

The Tenderness.

The Knowing.

The Wisdom.

The Tears.

The Laughter.

Oh the raucous laughter!

And it also shows the Dark side of our love. The jealousy, the manipulation, the competition, the gossip etc. I’m glad that old octopus wasn’t left out. The film is honest this way.

I think it was Laura Dern who played Marmee, the mother of four beautiful daughters. Each woman so unique, so wild and so free on the screen.

The fierce love of Jo.

The courage of Amy.

The wisdom of Beth.

The fortitude of Meg.

This film inspired me. It points to some interesting possibilities for us moving forward. Imagine a world where women looked more to one another for intimacy, joy and comfort. I’m not talking about sexual intimacy here, although that is totally on the menu for some women and I fully respect and honour that delicious choice too.

The most beautiful scene is where the Daughter holds the Mother and where the Mother holds the Daughter. What a treat to see it with my daughter. I want to see it again to expand my heart even more.

Imagine a world where we saw other women as nurturing protectors, power partners and highly treasured play mates instead of competition for scarce resources.

As we birth a new decade we also sew a new future for the earth. We weave this new world with new thoughts, new actions and new energy. Our songs, our words, our cooking, our gardens, our cakes, our books, our touch, our tenderness and our love is priceless. Valuable beyond measure.

As we feed ourselves, we feed life.

As we love ourselves, we love life.

As we nurture ourselves, we nurture life too.

The bonds between women are golden threads that hold with care. If the fabric has been torn, it’s okay, it can be mended by hand; one stitch, one touch, one meal, one smile, one kind word at a time.

Imagine a Healed Sisterhood.

I am planting that seed in my heart today. It begins with me.

Taonga

Taonga is a Maori word I love so much. It means treasure.

I once read that the greatest treasure of all are people.

I agree.

Traditionally Taonga were considered valuable objects, possessions such as swords, stones, knives and tools. I’m not referring to that kind of Taonga here.

No.

I’m writing here about love, and love can really only thrive in a space of freedom. People are not possessions to be clutched onto, no, they are sacred beings.

So for me, love is Taonga.

He is not Silver, he is Gold.

My time with him was heavenly.

Before meeting Silver I walked on eggshells in relationships.Before meeting Silver I was naive. I was prey.

I was harmed in relationships.

Harmed physically, emotionally and spiritually.

I had no voice. I couldn’t speak in other relationships.

During my time with Silver, wrapped in the gentle embrace of his wings I found the courage to speak. And he very kindly and very very patiently listened.

Day by day, over five years I found safety and a place inside myself to call Home.

We set up two beautiful homes together in New Zealand (three if I include the van).

I loved every single moment, every morning, every evening meal, every blessed day that we shared.

I loved walking barefoot on the grass alongside him. I delighted in a new found land with no snakes, no bugs, no spiders, just gentle soft steps with his hand in mine.

When I put my feet on the ground in New Zealand I feel that I have come home. Like the traveling migratory birds I enjoy flying across the space of the seas. This has been my path for the last few years, much like a shorebird I have traveled great distances to be close to the people and places I love the most.

Now I feel that wherever I go, I belong.

Wherever I am, I am home.

When I met Silver I felt as though I died and went to heaven.

I died.

We met at Mana.

Heaven.

I went to Heaven with you my darling.

Such a HUGE change from my life before that point.

For the first time no gun pointed at my head. There was finally and for the very first time no anger, no blame, no guilt trips and no shame.

No harmful words ever passed his lips.

Only Love came through this man. Only Love came through this man to me.

Silver held a clear mirror for me. He was a safe space for me to grow into myself. He was a safe space for me to expand into.

Something broken (trust in the Sacred Masculine) was healed in his Presence, in his embrace and living each day with him.

I was loved like I have never been loved before. I was cared for. I was cherished. I was fed soul food and nurtured on so many levels.

Finally after so much hell, I was safe.

Yes, I landed in Mana, in HEAVEN!

During my time with Silver he held the space for my Spiritual side to emerge. He helped me come into contact with my healing gifts and also he supported my writing. He edited my work. I consulted him when I couldn’t hear the message in my healing work too. He backed my work and he backed my evolution fully.

He held the space for me to Birth my Truth.

There are so many gains.

He protected me from harm and I blossomed.

He even spoke the words, he even named my Beauty out loud for me, so I could hear it.

He spoke his heart, he spoke clearly to me, as he saw things. It was profound for me. He saw that I am a Dancer. I am a Dancer. I reclaimed that one fully!

He saw that I am a Writer. I am a Writer. He saw that I am a Healer. I own my capacity to heal myself and hold space for others to do the same.

He was drawn in by my Woman, supported my Warrior and held the little girl, the child in me too.

He loved me completely with every cell of his being. I am deeply and eternally grateful to this man. The opportunity for growth I have now is to let him go even more fully than I ever imagined I would ever have to do.

It’s easy to talk about letting go, but to actually see the man you love walking away from you and towards another woman is a whole other level.

I’m open to multiple points of view, to open my mind to what is happening I choose to celebrate this juncture and say Thank you, thank you, thank you!

I am so grateful for all that I experienced in his Presence and all that I learned and all that we shared together. It was awesome.

As you dive into the unknown, delight fully in the magick of the Yoniverse. You have entered this life through the loving womb of your mother, then as a man you enter the beautiful womb space of your woman and then after that the void, the mysterious space of the great Mother, through the veil, to your Death.

Dive fully in dear Silver. Dive fully into Love.

I wish you great health, hope, happiness and humor. I love you across all time, dimension and space realities. I set you free again today.

Be well Dear dear man.

Remember this always …

You are a Great Man.

An Impeccable Warrior.

Walk in Beauty Beloved.

May the road rise up to meet you.

May the wind always be at your back.

May the sun shine warm upon your face, and rains fall soft upon your fields. And, until we meet again, May God hold you in the palm of his hand.

You are Taonga.

Natural, sacred and beautiful Treasure.

Love,

Angel 🙂

 

Period Power

My periods are changing. I no longer bleed every 28 days. A whole eight months went by last year. I am in the transitional space between my moon cycle and the power stage called menopause feeling tranquil as I write this.

Recently, the red tide came in. Her arrival was unannounced and unexpected. The ‘almost unfamiliar to me now’ bright redness on the white loo roll. I got excited. It was like seeing an old friend again.

She was a wonderfully big bleed, eight days in total, my longest period ever.

I’d nearly forgotten the deep dive the dance with the blood is. My soft and oh so delightfully nurturing cloth pads lay dorment in their red velvet bag in my undies drawer.

I’d almost forgotten the uncompromising nature of the moon cycle.

I’d forgotten the heightened awareness and sensitivity.

I’d forgotten the feeling of being taken to the underworld with no time to pack.

I’d forgotten the waves of emotion.

I’d forgotten the roller coaster.

The menstrual super powers are many and include the capacity for soul deep self reflection, off the charts awareness, purification and expanded relief in the bliss of letting go.

It’s also a time where I lean into the ‘i couldn’t give a flying shiz about things that were really important to me a week ago’ sort of feeling.

Prior obsessions dissolve as I sink into my flow.

Naturally I want nourishing soup, bone broth, stew or slow cooked casseroles and sitting by log fires or laying down with a hot water bottle.

Doing nothing.

Going nowhere.

Pleasing no one.

Last time around the moon, there was drama.

Upon reflection I can see that my periods have evoked strong feelings in me and the man in my life for years. During my last cycle I had a fight with my man.

We never fight.

We had a fight because of who I was being. I wasn’t in touch with the uncomfortable feelings underneath my stove top intensity.

He was.

When I slowed down enough to feel how I was feeling, there was a lot brewing in my soft underbelly.

Our period has the power to reset us and is a natural spring clean on many levels. She brings to our awareness our deeper feelings about how we are living our life. She lets us know clearly how she feels about how we are going through our life physically, emotionally, spiritually and sexually. 

Our period brings the power for profoundly deep purification. Buried truths and feelings rise up for acceptance and ultimately for release.

Wisdom. She. Is.

For years I either suppressed my deepest feelings or they flowed out of me as drama. This was a painful process because I didn’t want to feel some of those big feelings. I am writing about this here in the hope that it might assist you to bleed with power and with less drama than I did.

For years I was able to keep powerful parts of myself hidden and tucked away from myself for most of the time. I talked myself out of the wisdom revealed to me at this time.

I lived too much in my head. I lived too much for others. I had no idea how to love myself.

The Red Tide takes us deeper.

Looking back I can see how frightened I was of my own emotional energy.

Period Powers are hidden from view. For centuries they have been banished, silenced, ignored, suppressed, confined, cut back, medicated, and made to feel too much. I played too small, while she danced big.

The powers of the womb are formidable and in a masculine power system we have been trained to ignore and suppress them. In patriarchy we became overly educated smart women, we worked hard for years while our wombs tugged away calling out to us for stillness.

It’s a time to just be.

She yearns for us to move with her instead of being against her, yet as women, we are still far too disconnected from our body wisdom.

As a collective we women still live with ‘the fear of detection’ when we are bleeding. Much of our period energy goes into checking and rechecking that we are not bleeding all over the chair and clothing we are sitting on. We also over ride our energy limits, we push ourselves too far, we give too much to others when we really need to stop.

During the moon time my deepest truths become amplified and expand through me energetically in a big red wave. If I don’t catch the wave it can be messy, and by this I don’t just mean physically. The moon flow happens on all levels. The forces of Mother Nature within us are literally gushing and unleashing through us at this time.

Our moon flow is a journey to the underworld. Each month we merge with the Sacred Feminine on a profound healing retreat, willing or not, it is happening anyway … like a  mini death and a mini birth all rolled into one. Our Period has the power to deeply transform and heal us as women if we able to tune into and feel into what is actually going on inside us.

As the blood begins we are called inwards. This can happen anywhere at anytime … at work, on public transport or while making love.

No matter where we are the invitation is to turn towards the feelings and sensations that arise. It can be turbulent, energizing, draining or even a little or a lot dark sometimes as we discover we have the opportunity to meet and merge with the wisdom in our hips, to release unwanted stagnant energy and then gradually many days later return with a new approach and with new energy for the next journey around the moon.

Like the moon we cycle from dark to full and round again each month. Nature gives us 7 days to rest and release (a kind of death), 14 days to rebirth, with the peak of the fertile force at ovulation and another 7 days to let go and express ourselves even more fully (otherwise known as the pms week). Every month we are unfurling new fronds and dropping off dead fronds as we go.

It’s not a straight line, it’s a moon cycle after all.

Period Power = Slow down + Rest +Merge + Reflect + Review + 7 days later = Returning

All that no longer serves goes out on the red tide and Period Power means feeling it all.

Sometimes my period brought on arguments and fighting in my relationships because I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t stop being a martyr or a victim. My body and soul needed to go onto airplane mode for a week and I didn’t see how that could happen, so I over rode myself and soldiered on.

Looking back I can see that partners often reflected the hidden anger I felt but denied back to me.

Upon reflection I can see that I needed a Red Tent.

I needed to stop. I needed to relax. I needed to just be.

I needed to expand and take up more space for myself.

I needed to be away from men and children at this time.

Ancient cultures have always known this.

During my period the man in my life reflected back to me what I myself was feeling deep down. I often experienced it as a form of attack.

I’m pretty sure my man would say that he felt attacked by the way I was being, and often an argument was born at this time of the month.

Truth is, for many years I was unable to slow down enough to feel what I was feeling and allow myself to be with what I was feeling. I didn’t carve out the sacred space I needed.

My inability to face my deeper feelings and power manifested outwardly as Period Drama.

Fighting with men and feeling unable to deal with the demands of the outer life at this time I sometimes felt alien in my body, my home and in the world.

Notes from my moon journal …. “I must stop over doing it this time, lest I fall apart and someone’s head come off”.

The red tide won’t allow me to push my body or betray myself. My intuition and all my senses become heightened.

I must rest, or else.

Who really has the power when it comes to childbirth?

Michelle Obama recently gave a speech encouraging people to register to vote in the US. I was struck with how relevant and important her words are for women.

Michelle said…

“When you don’t vote you’re letting other people make some really key decisions about the life you’re going to live and how it’s going to work out for you. You’re just saying ‘you do it’… and you may not like what they decide. You might not like living with the consequences of other people’s choices.”

Many of us wanted a natural birth yet came away with something unexpected… such as a forceps delivery, vacuum extraction, episiotomy, stitches or a caesarean section.

These outcomes have felt disappointing and heart breaking to us.

The medical model of care sees childbirth as an accident waiting to happen, so to save us from this predicament the focus is on ‘doing things’ in an ordered and structured way to get the desired end results.

With all the advances of science and medicine why has it become so hard for women to give birth naturally?

The root of the problem with modern maternity care is that it functions within a masculine power system and the truth is that women and birth don’t work that way.

Within a medical model of care there is a predictable pattern and ordered process of events via which these results occur.

For example, I know that continuous monitoring in labour is linked to instrumental delivery of the baby, but many women may not know this. Labouring on a bed for hours with an epidural in situ the baby’s heart rate often drops and an emergency caesarean follows.

The masculine power system doesn’t see the deeper relationships between things such as the woman’s ability to receive support, the women’s position during labour, her need for privacy and freedom or the relationship between her inner state and the progress of labour and dilation.

Nor does it consider the quality of her relationships past or present and the impact on the birth.

There are many internal (in women’s bodies and minds) and external (in the environment and with others) factors contributing to the prevalence of medicalized birth across the world.

Most of us were born into and educated within a masculine power system. It’s based on achievement and in doing things in a linear way by taking a series of steps.

We have all been imprinted with ideas and experiences about women’s bodies and birth from years and years of conditioning.

Many of us now have the idea that women need to birth at the hospital and can’t do it for themselves, they need help because birth is dangerous.

This isn’t true.

Birth can be straightforward and simple. The truth is that without fear and in the right conditions with the right support most women birth naturally and well.

We are each also imprinted by the conceptions, pregnancies and births our mothers and grandmothers had. We are conditioned and held back by fears and inner beliefs which block our flow, our voice and our power.

How we birth is how we live.

The masculine power system is linear in its thinking and is focused on one thing: getting results.

It breaks things down into parts, so from the perspective of the medical model of care the vacuum extraction, forceps delivery and caesarean section are considered useful because they get the baby out and are therefore achieving the end result.

If a woman is hooked up to a monitor, her labour can be measured. This is seen as a useful way to chart her course to get the desired results. It’s not wrong or bad, it’s just one way of seeing things.

What’s missing here is the woman’s experience of becoming a mother, her process and the activation of her feminine power.

I’ve watched forceps deliveries, vacuum extractions and caesarean sections and I can tell you that they are right up there with the most disturbing and awful things that I have ever seen.

They are all very invasive measures and can be incredibly painful for women and babies.

Without the feminine powers of intuition, connection, support and the inner birthing tools we are left in a barren world with only the outer birthing tools, instruments, operations and machines.

There are many gentle and time tested inner tools that women can access to birth naturally that work without force.

A midwife you know, like and trust can be an incredibly protective and powerful ally for you to achieve natural birth, as can a doula.

With the loss of the ancient art of midwifery (including the highly protective powers of spiritual midwifery) women today are left with the cold outer tools that often leave incredibly deep scars and profound wounds, not just in the body but in the heart of woman, her psyche and sexuality.

Men too have birth trauma from having to watch all this, powerless to protect their woman and child from the harm of the outer tools.

There are certainly times when these options are necessary and can be helpful, and yes, they can sometimes be life savers, but if you want a natural birth they are only ever to be considered as absolute last resorts.

The thing is, if you birth within a medical model of care, your chances of experiencing the ‘outer tools’ are very high.

Let me be clear, the masculine power system is not wrong or bad, in fact it is great for achieving things that can be controlled such as scheduling flights at an international airport or building a boat.

There have been many gains to this system, such as flying from one country to another… and there have been costs too, such as the carbon emissions from aircraft.

A feminine power system works more like a garden; it is ever changing, emergent, unpredictable and cannot be controlled.

Who has the power 2 800x400

We cannot control when the tulips will open in spring time.

We cannot control when the strawberries will be ready to eat.

In a feminine power system there is an understanding of the inter-relatedness and importance of each and every part of the garden. Gardens look different in the morning compared to at the heat of the day. Gardens are also wildly different in spring compared to winter.

Just like nature, women and birth are not predictable. Women are fuelled by powerful natural cycles such as menstruation, pregnancy, birth and menopause.

These cycles have been consistent in women’s lives for centuries. They were not designed to be controlled but to bring all of life forward for the health of all in alignment with the deeper truth, the evolution of humanity within the cosmos.

Like gardens, women too are changing every day and every week of the month in relation to the cycle, season and stage of life the woman is in.

A garden is fecund and slow and like the weather it too can be chaotic and unpredictable.

There is no force here.

There is no due date for peaches or mangoes to ripen.

There are no inductions for roses.

Everything happens when it is ready to happen.

The masculine power system can be brutal when it is applied to feminine processes such as labour and birth.

And we women, we want things now too.

We want control and we don’t want to wait.

We want our baby on or around the due date.

We want our labour a certain way and a certain time.

The truth is that machines and medicalization can and will deliver such results.

There is another way and you have access to your feminine power right now.

If you want to be empowered to have your best chances to birth naturally message me now about Pregnancy Power, the 7 week course. I’ll give you practices to find your voice and power.

If you’re pregnant and you need support for your next birth or if you want to heal from the birth you had last time, reach out, message me and we can set up a time to talk. If you want to find out more you can go here www.birthyourtruth.com

Michelle Obama wants more people to vote, she wants change and so do I.

I want women to have great births.

And, I want to end birth trauma.

Why has it been hard for spiritual women to have natural births?

Despite all the prenatal yoga, organic food and deep healing work we’ve done, many smart, educated and vibrant spiritual women have had birth experiences we were not expecting. The underlying causes are often hidden and overlooked.

What follows here are some of the feelings and issues that conscious women have revealed to me and that I have observed in my work as a midwife, doula and birth healer over the last decade. The following list is not evidence based, complete or conclusive; rather it is my opinion and a reflection of some of my own experiences and also those of the women I work with. If any of the following resonates with you, or triggers something within you, please do your best to be compassionate and gentle with yourself and others, both during and after reading this. If what you hear here brings up old feelings you are welcome to contact me here for more support.

So, why has it been so hard for caring, educated, conscious, smart spiritual women to have natural births? Here’s what I’ve noticed that is linked to some of our most disappointing birth outcomes.

We were unprepared for the pain of childbirth and nobody mentioned pain or spoke honestly about pain in any of our childbirth education classes. When labour came, we didn’t know how to meet the power or intensity of contractions.

Looking back we had no real experience of labour and birth apart from what we’d heard or seen on movies and videos. We thought it would be much easier than it was.

We are results driven women and successful in the world and we had high expectations of ourselves to perform well and succeed at birth.

We had a plan for our birth. We aimed for the perfect birth and what we got didn’t fit that picture. Deep down we may feel we failed at birth.

We didn’t really want to birth in a hospital and got caught up in a cascade of intervention.

We were told we had to have an induction and ended up with a c-section.

We had an epidural that led to an instrumental birth.

We didn’t have the practical or spiritual support we needed to navigate labour and birth naturally when the time came. We got scared and looked to our care provider to sort it out and tell us what to do.

Deep down we didn’t really get along with or trust our care provider during birth.

We thought we could project manage our birth via an app or birth plan.

We didn’t know how to open up and be powerfully vulnerable during labour. We didn’t tell anyone how we were really feeling inside and we didn’t know how to let emotional support in at the difficult times when we most needed it.

We felt completely overwhelmed by the pain of labour and chose options we thought we never would.

We know ourselves to be strong women and for some reason during labour all our support people got sick and couldn’t be there for us.

We felt hurried and pressured during labour. We felt watched, observed and under surveillance during birth.

We got caught in power dynamics. We were unsure of our own role and power in the birthing process. We did what the care provider said whilst knowing deep down that the choice didn’t feel right for us.

When we got to the hospital we got swept up in a world not our own and felt captive and frightened. 

When the shit hit the fan we lost our voice and we were unable to ask for what we needed or even say what we were feeling and thinking.

When it came time we felt alone and realized that we didn’t feel supported.

We didn’t know how to ask for our needs and desires to be met in a way that inspired others to meet them.

We were in relationships where we weren’t seen, respected or properly heard and it impacted our birthing process.

We have prioritized the needs of others over our own needs and we haven’t been able to ask for what we want and need during pregnancy or birth.

We had children with partners who abused us. We carry shame about this.

We didn’t know how to stand up for ourselves or value or worth.

We’ve been afraid to let go of the fathers of our children even though we knew deep down they weren’t right for us. We’ve stayed in relationships too long, especially if they were safe and secure ones.

We’ve stayed in unhealthy relationships where there was good chemistry in the hope it would get better but during birth the truth was revealed to us and we had to face that truth with a baby in our arms.

We’ve had sexual abuse and other trauma in our past or childhood. During birth we were unable to trust or surrender into our own body and birthing process.

We grew up catholic and we have not felt fully at home in our female body or with our radiance or sexuality.

We were terrified of birth and overwhelmed by the pain of labour.

We had an awful birth previously and haven’t healed from it yet.

We did what the obstetrician or midwife or doula said because we felt we didn’t know enough about birth and babies and they knew more than us.

We were led to believe that the hospital was the safest place to have a baby, so we found an obstetrician and talked to them about our wishes for a normal birth. We were shocked when close to the arrival of our newborn the scissors came out and our vagina was cut to ‘deliver’ the baby from us.

We were labouring well until suddenly the baby’s heart rate dropped and we were rushed off to have an emergency caesarean.

We had an epidural and a vacuum or forceps delivery. We came home with a deep cut, a wound, lots of stitches or worse. Years later we still deal with incontinence, unresolved feelings, vaginal prolapse and trauma that impacts our sex life and intimate relationships.

We didn’t know how to say no. We said yes when we wanted to say no. Or, we said no, but were not heard. We felt pressured or even threatened to agree to something we didn’t really feel good about.

These are a few of the many reasons why spiritual women have unexpected birthing outcomes.

If any of these resonate with you, know that you are not alone.

These are the experiences of many women I work with, including my own.

Instead of blaming ourselves or others, let’s show a lot of empathy towards ourselves. All of these experiences can be gateways into power moving forward.

How we birth is linked to a much bigger story of women and power. No matter what happened we can heal.

Our birth story can teach us how to live powerfully in a female body on planet earth if we are courageous to look at what happened and how it made us feel.

Women and Birth have formidable Feminine Power, the power to create, relate, expand, radiate, regenerate, rebirth and heal worlds. 

You can have the support now that you did not have then.

You can have the voice now that you did not have then.

You can have the power now that you did not have then.

You can be now who you were not then. You can rise. You can heal. You can expand. Your voice matters. Your body matters. You can take up more space here on this earth. 

Here’s what I know… there is beautiful treasure for you within your birthing story, exactly as it happened. 


If any of the issues raised in this post are having an impact on your life, then you are most welcome to reach out to Angela for personal support.

My Love Story

Three years ago on top of a mountain in New Zealand I met eyes with my gorgeous man Silver. We met on the dance floor in the Coromandel Peninsula. This is my love story. 

In December 2014 I left Australia to pursue my Midwifery career in New Zealand. I knew I could not be a part of the medicalization of women and childbirth in my homeland.

I knew that New Zealand had one of the best maternity systems in the world and had often joked during my midwifery training, saying things like

When I finish studying midwifery, I am moving to New Zealand!”.

As a new graduate midwife I knew the time would come where I would have to leave my home to work away from home. There were very few jobs in Mullumbimby!

I had told my daughter and she was adamant she was not moving. I raised a tiger with voice, teeth and claws intact. No convincing her otherwise; I was heart achingly aware that this would mean leaving my teenage daughter behind with her father. (note – not my abusive ex)

I felt that a year away would do us both good. Her father had always said he would have her when she was a teenager. I didn’t fancy working out in the bush or in any other city in Australia.

A male friend suggested I go to New Zealand for a year.

At first I thought, “I can’t leave my daughter!” But after sitting with it for a while I knew I couldn’t leave myself where I was.

I had to go.

It was time.

Although this was difficult to do, I had to do it for me.

I had to walk on, I had to honour my soul, I had to say yes to me. As a mother it was hard to say yes to me yet the truth was that martyring myself to my child was not working.

I was worn out and I needed to heal and reclaim parts of myself.

I packed up my home and belongings and on the 1st of December 2014 I flew into Auckland airport. As soon as my feet hit New Zealand ground I felt a deep peace in my body and heart.

I felt safe.

I still feel this way.

My old friends Andy and Claire lent me their van so I could explore the Coromandel. A friend had told me about Mana Retreat and I knew there were dance classes there.

I headed alone into the soft green healing mountains. I felt vulnerable navigating this new land alone, yet exhilarated too. Bravely, one breathe at a time I ventured into the unknown. I knew I could not be the sort of midwife I wanted to be in Australia. I had to find another way to work and live.

I let go of everything to start over, little did I know that so much magic awaited me on top of that mountain.

Early one morning in the cold and mist I navigated the van through the windy mountains up to Mana Retreat in the Coromandel.

Hours later, through rain and summer fog I found myself on top of a mountain on the dance floor, my happy place, with around 20 other beautiful light filled souls.

Mana Retreat is a holy and sacred place on my soul pilgrimage.

While I danced freely around the floor a moment came that would change the course of my life, but I didn’t know it at the time. Out of nowhere he suddenly appeared, bright dark blue eyes, a man of courage, beauty and passion, wide awake. He looked straight into me. It was a moment of wonder.

In a single moment I had been penetrated by a man whose energy would soon go on to change my life. I wasn’t looking for another relationship. I wasn’t looking for a man.

I wanted to follow my calling, and it seemed the universe wanted to support me in that in mysterious ways too.

In matters of the heart I was most gravely wounded. For the two years prior I had grieved the loss of my whirlwind first marriage, which although passionate was cruel, destructive, painful and thoroughly unsustainable.

It wasn’t kind and it wasn’t safe.

I had to get out. I got a divorce.

Seeking a new path I threw myself whole heartedly into Midwifery studies. It was a rigorous journey for my spirit but I completed it.

Throughout the sad times I had a picture stuck on my desk that made me feel wonderful. It gave me hope. It was a small hand painted card by Annie Haywood, a brilliant New Zealand artist featuring a man and a woman together in a garden.

The image was one of peace and kindness.

As I studied and wrote essays I decided that I would never be abused again and that one day I would have a kind and loving relationship. As tears poured out of me like rivers I looked at that picture by Annie Haywood.

I affirmed to my heart and soul that I would never again settle for verbal, physical or psychological abuse of any kind.

I drew a line in the sand, and I dreamed of a better life.

Little did I know that I had invoked a King.

Looking back I can see that in the steaming compost of my marriage heartbreak, loss, pain and grief …. I surely planted a seed for myself.

I had no idea or concern for when it would happen. I was thick in a challenging career path with a teenage daughter to support.

I was not looking for love.

I forgot about that picture, packed up my house and got on a plane. Lo and behold my seed of hope sprung up unexpectedly in the Coromandel, a place of peace and extreme beauty. Heaven on Earth.

If we are courageous enough to face what isn’t working, what stinks, what is broken, what has failed, and what hurts like hell, from this place of dissolution and despair we can make wonderful compost and then go on to plant new seeds of hope. It’s fertile dross, grist for the mill.

Our seeds of hope will grow and sprout in divine timing. The process cannot be forced or controlled in any way.

Three years on I am softened, humbled and blessed by the presence of my divine man Silver by my side. It has in no way been easy, with my daughter in Australia and my relationship hurts… er… baggage.

Yet love has prevailed. Silver has sustained my heart, body and spirit through good times and bad.

I even left him for a year to return to my daughter and we did the dance of long distance love, flying back and forth across the Tasman.

Silver is by far the strongest, kindest, deepest and most wonderful man I have ever met.

The journey is still as mysterious and magical as it was when we first met three years ago today.

I am reborn in love.

I am softer, because he is so kind.

I am kinder, because he is so loving.

I am happier, because I am seen and truly accepted as I am.

I am more myself, because he is so patient with me.

He is my Man Angel.

This is my love story and I am truly blessed.

This is what I love

Illumined Angel in Crystal Stream

As the year comes to a close I pause to reflect on what I love. I love this river. She is a pristine sanctuary that delights me with her enchanted emerald green pools. 

I love dance. I love dancing in costumes. I love dancing in comfy clothes. I love dancing naked. I love dancing in community. I love dancing in my back yard. I love dancing with kids! I love wild anything goes dancing. I love dancing in gold threads.

I love Nature. I love soft grass. I love my rose tree. I love swimming in the sea. I love swimming in rivers. I love the change of seasons. I love flowers. I love bumble bees. I love sunsets. I love snow on the mountains. I love the sunsets near my home.

I love my daughter. The child who came through me, who is of me but does not belong to me. I honour the journey we’ve shared so far. Thank you for being my greatest teacher. It really has not been easy, yet I am in awe of you, how you change and grow. I miss you near. I hold you dear.

I love cooking. I love cooking curry and bliss balls and cake and apple pie.

I love celebration. I love parties and countdowns and fireworks and concerts.

I love travel. I’ve been to India several times, West Coast of USA, China, Hong Kong, Indonesia, Canada and New Zealand… and I’m only just warming up. I love the new smells and foods and sounds and faces. I love the different things to wear and see.

I love berries. Strawberries, cherries and raspberries. I love squishing the berries and seeing the colours all mix over my hand. Perfect water colours. Perfect ye olde lipsticks me thinks.

I love colourful spirited art. I love women’s circles. I love men’s choirs and monks singing. I love bird songs and dog songs. I love whale songs too.

I love water colours. I love how it flows and it cannot be controlled.

I love conversation. I love a good ole cup of tea and a chat with young and old.  The lady at the end of my street. Hester’s Mum. The seventy year old woman I met on the dance floor on Sunday, an earth Goddess!

I love singing.  Mantras and eighties songs, the themes of my youth. Your true colours are beautiful and ‘Wake me up before you go go’! are etched in my bark.

I love the experience of being alive. Each day a new creation. Each day a new expression of self flowing through this soft body.

I love my man. My magic Silver Moonlight.

I love my friends, rare gems, sparkling and golden.

I love myself, always here, always near.

Starlight, spiralling life, shining through me to all tonight.

What we say to ourselves matters

When I first met Silver I had to go through a lot of fear to even allow myself to start over. My heart felt broken after my divorce. I was crushed, yet after a year and a half of grieving life was moving me on to a wonderful new partnership.

Fear and pain tells our brain to put off or avoid anything associated with suffering… sometimes even to never go there again.

When I began my new chapter in New Zealand and met Silver a voice in my head said,

   “No, don’t go there again – you’ll get hurt.”

And at the same time another voice was saying,

   “Do this. You are different now. He is different. Trust yourself.”

I am so glad I did. Three years on and I am a more peaceful woman because of him. He has softened me.

In the throes of my divorce I made a decision that one day I would have a wonderful relationship.

Dreams do come true.

Three years on I now have a beautiful, peaceful and passionate partnership with a divine man.

I had to face my fear. I had to walk through a ring of fear. I made a decision to put myself first and follow my heart.

I had to let go of what wasn’t working for me too.

I’m so glad I faced my fears and manifested my dream man.

It can be the same with wanting to have another baby. It can be really, really scary. And no, that fear isn’t going to go away by itself.

Our body remembers how it felt last time and our soul remembers what we said to ourselves, even if our mind has forgotten.

The words came from deep inside me.

I remember the day clearly.

I was standing on the front lawn, holding my newborn in my arms, as mum was getting into her car after coming down from Queensland to help me for the first few weeks.

I was so lucky. I didn’t wash a cloth nappy for weeks because mum was there diligently soaking, washing and hanging them out.

But even the care and support of my own mum wasn’t enough to erase the feeling in my body.

I found childbirth a thousand times more painful than I thought it would be.

I wasn’t afraid giving birth, I was terrified.

I was in shock for months afterwards. I had stitches. I felt broken by birth.

I remember saying to her,

   “I am never doing that again.”

I told my soul that I am never having another baby again.

The years rolled on and I totally forgot my spoken vow to myself.

Looking back I can see that I spent the next ten years yearning to have another baby. To ‘get it right’. To make it good.

Yet all the hoping in the world could not overrule the words I laid down in my brain after my first birth.

   “I am never doing that again.”

I didn’t.

I became a doula and a midwife seeking to find answers to understand birth. I helped women ease their pain and not feel as alone as I did during childbirth. I spent ten years learning about what works for labouring women and what doesn’t.

All the trying, all the prenatal yoga, all the reading, all the classes… none of this can take away what your body and soul experienced the last time around.

Yet you can still transform what happened. You can heal from your birth.

If you’re willing to take a peek into what happened and how you felt, you can create a new vision for yourself and you can birth again in a new way.

Do you remember the words you said to yourself after your child was born?

Are your vows stopping you?

Now I live in New Zealand with the most wonderful man and the most wonderful relationship of my life.

I faced my fears and let go of the words I said to myself.

You can too.

You can re-write the birth story you are telling yourself and create a new birth experience.

You can.