Sacred Sacral

Sacred Sacral LightCode Activation

Sacred Sacral

Healing Magician Wand

Golden Caduceus Air Wings Movement

Pulsating LightCodes pulling through the Center 

Hidden in the Presence beneath the Surfaces of the Known

You are Your Own Answer to the Puzzle you Ponder

Capturing Essences in the Stream of the 

Frequency that is the Alignment that 

Powerfully runs through the Center

Captain Capture Captivate Conjugate

DNA Activation in Zero Point Presence (Being in this Moment)

Zero Point Presents (Gifts of Spirit)

Zero Point Presents (Presentations)

HWMaclean.com

Lavender skies morning rise pungent light 

whispers inside burgeoning eloquent

 mystic longing benevolent divine

 being present love eternal timeless

Rewrites Required

Into the Swirl ~ HWMaclean.com

your heat your life your power your warmth your depth your touch your heart your mind your soul so open never closed poured out in wistful longing in bliss just one more kiss in every memory of  longing combined into this one moment goodbye waiting always waiting for one more time oh Heart! hold me to this Truth hold me to this path to completion and all I can do is Love you from within the depth of this place of heart overflowing my heart your heart always yours always mine forevermore

Let's

Let's not make Small Talk. 

Let's Talk about Us.

Let's Talk about Love.

Let's Speak of Soul.

Let's talk from within the 

Depths of the Quiet Rooms 

where we've lived all these years 

that we've been apart.

Let's talk from Here

where we have ever resided together, 

side by side One with the Other. 

Let's not waste our precious Time

in the Layers of the Mundane but rather, 

Let's Risk Below and Delve

into the Spaces where the 

Faint of Heart dare not go. 

Let us speak of Dark Longing 

and the kind of Missing that 

Slays us Time and Time 

again across years of Dying. 

Let's strip away all the shit put upon us 

by Lifetimes of Letting Go.

Let's start with Feeling 

your Heart here in Mine, 

our Souls so entwined, 

ever inseparable, Divine. 

Let's go from there. 

Let's not make Small Talk. 

Let's Talk about Us. 

Let's have Courage and Speak without Words.

Let's Love from Soul and Generate Miracles.

Let's Lead from Soul 

and Embrace this Magic, 

Mystical Love Eternal.

Let's...

A Raccoon, The Dolphin Balloon & Dragon Talons

Any manner of configuration manifests indelicately here within the confines of words understood, likely, by nobody but me. It's just as it should be. Reconnoiter, reconstruction...raccoon. I didn't mean to hit the little bastard. Neither one of us saw it coming. That's what makes it an accident. Still. I lift mine spirit to thine spirit, oh Raccoon and I am aggrieved that your life ended, not by my hand, but by my tires or by my car's body slamming into your body. There was nothing either one of us could have done. Such a metaphor for all that's wrong.

One thing leads to the other. That's life....


And then, inexplicably, I managed to lock Ashlin in my car. She was all snuggled in her winter coat, in her car seat, ready to go. All she really cared about was getting her hands on the big, huge dolphin balloon that I had just gotten her to replace the little pink one that had floated up and away to meet the stars the night before. Hilary, thankfully, was still there. All's well, as the saying goes....but my tenuous sensibilites were already compromised. Roiling emotions colliding into one another...hot friction building, as it is meant to...designed to draw me inward, ever inward, to that place where the dialogue is muted, urgent...pay attention, pay attention, it whispers. All this is happening for a reason. Be wise. Be here now and understand it all as it unfolds. Hindsight isn't an option I am willing to embrace this time. Tapped in, tuned in....adjusting the frequency for a better reception of the Universal messages that prevail. I'm listening with more senses than the five most known. Perhaps more accutely. And I am still in recognition of being just slightly out of phase. I know it looks like I'm in a fog. I know it looks like I'm not doing well...but, as with so many such occurances...things are not as they appear.


Then....

I find Mom sitting at a table in the dining area of the nursing home where she is being kept safe and cared for. She looks up and her face is suffused with the pleasure of recognition and an array of emotions flit there as if across a screen in montage. I stand still, my face on a level with hers, eye to eye, allowing all the other senses to connect for though her mind may not be fully at her disposal, I know her Soul is. The moment passes and we move on into her room. There is a bustle of changing her, testing her blood sugar, administering her insulin and settling her onto her bed. We are then alone. I focus my attention on taking care of some of her personal needs, things for a daughter to do for a mother. She acquiesces in silence, compliant in docility so unlike the woman that I have called Mother for 47 years. While I carefully clip what have become dragon talon fingernails, we are mostly silent. I decide to gently ply her. "Do you know who I am?" She answers, "Yes, of course I do. You are Diane," her younger sister who has passed on. In the quieter nuances of expression, I sense that she knows that this is not right. "No," I whisper. "I am your youngest daughter, Heather." Her energy has shifted into an unknowing place where she seems to float, disconnected and vague. It's strange how such vibrant, strong willed, independent people can disappear into a black cavern in the mind. I switch sides so that I can clip the dragon talons on her left hand. Clip, clip, snip, snip, being so very careful to not hurt her in any way, I am very focused. We are very quiet. I wield an emory board across her nicely shortened nails as if I know what the fuck I'm doing; like I've done this before. I look up into her fading eyes. She looks back into mine. We just stare at each other but we do not speak. Then, "How's that?" I ask. "Oh, that's...that's just...." Her words fall off into an abyss I believe she's become all too familiar with. Then she smiles a small little smile and reaches up to kiss me. Then, she ever so gently touches my hair and says, "Your hair...it's so lovely...so beautiful." I feel this heinous lump rising from some unknown depths into my throat. I can hardly swallow. She has NEVER touched me with such tenderness. NEVER looked at me with tender affection such as this. I say, "Thank you. It was a gift from you and Daddy." Not missing a beat she queries, "Oh, he doesn't miss it, having given it to you?" I could laugh and cry at the same time but she clumsily wraps her arms around me again, kisses me.


The ALL that she conveys to me is done in the language of the Soul, in energy, synergy and the belief that we are so much more than these physical bodies. And though most of my childhood, most of my adult relationship with my mother has been unadulterated SHITE...though we have battled for boundaries and fought for what we believed in, there has never been a doubt that some form of love is vollied between us. It's been a working relationship....one we've been working on for years. The things I've learned from my mother are not things consciously taught, but rather, learned through this life struggle, both of us earnestly interested in personal growth and independence. We, none of us, is perfect. We, none of us, have it all figured out. I find that we figure it out as we go along. I love my mother richly, deeply, intensely. I respect her for the hard struggle of her life. I adore her outrageous sense of humor and her ability to find the oddest circumstances hysterically funny. I love the humility that has not always been easily admitted to or arrived at. I am ever grateful for her love of words and books and all things British. And I know I would not be this complicated, complex individual without having had her as my Mother. And I know, for all the ways she really fucked me up, during some phases of my malleable years more than others, she loves me with a love uniquely generated from someplace in her center...someplace in that Soul that is so much more, so much larger than this physical body she presently inhabits.


As I guided her back to the dining area for her supper, reconnecting with the nurses aid, I heard her say to Taylor, "I don't know where she goes...." and Taylor, the CNA, gently responded, "Probably home." Thus Mom segues from one realm into the other. And so it goes....dementia today, dementia tomorrow......