The Miracle of Love World Tour 2011 coming to Glasgow on September 3rd

“The Return to Love is not the end of life’s adventure, but the beginning.  It’s the return to who you really are.”  Marianne Williamson, A Return to Love, p 26

Join us in Glasgow on September 3rd for this unique event at The Grand Central Hotel.  Be inspired, remember what the true meaning of life is, learn about what it means to be a leader, lead a purpose driven life, be authentic, express spontaneously and creatively from the heart and BE in love with life!

Follow this link for bookings and further information: www.TheMiracleOfLove.com

 

New Writing – Einstein’s Creative Genius, Word Choice & Communication, New Generations & Career Choice

I’ve written three new articles this week.  It was great to sit in my local pub in Edinburgh with fairy light and lanterns inside, snow falling outside, a hot cup of tea and my laptop propped up on lots of comfy cushions! Lovely.

Two of my articles are related this week, ‘Einstein’s Creative Genius – Staying Flexible in a Changing World’ and ‘New Generations & Career Choice – Embracing Change’.

The themes of these two article are about creative young people and the modern working environment; the need to stay flexible and be multi-disciplinary and the balance between science and creativity as epitomised by Albert Einstein.

The third article is titled ‘Word Choice and Communication- Choosing Language Wisely’.  This article explores the words we choose to communicate our ideas, thoughts, dreams and desires.   Do the words we choose can  lead to definitions about who we are.? If we had chosen different words to express the same sentiment, then would we be perceived as a different kind of person?

Feel free to share appropriate comments and thoughts!

Merry Christmas 2009!

Jane

xx

 

Rumi, Hafiz & the Truth of the Mystic Poets- New Writing Article

 

Rumi, Sufi Master Poet

This is my first article written for Suite101 titled ‘Rumi, Hafiz & the Truth of the Mystic Poets.’ 

The article explores the transendance of words through the poetry of well known Persian poets Rumi and Hafiz and Indian Poet Kabir.

Please feel free to leave respectable comments.

http://world-poetry.suite101.com/article.cfm/rumi_hafiz_the_truth_of_the_mystic_poets

If you’d like to subscribe to my RSS article feed to read new articles on a wide variety of topics as I write them, then follow this link to subscribe:  http://www.suite101.com/rss/indianajane_writer

 

A Small Story- Storm Runner.

This Scottish weather is a ittle insane-  Yesterday I went for a walk in the countryside to a local National Trust property.  The air was heavy and hot and I felt a thunder storm looming.  It wasn’t long before I could see the darkness, creeping like an indigo wave over the hills.  I stood on a hill in the scorching sunshine feeling the weight of the forthcoming storm in the temples of my head.  The sky above me was pale blue dotted with fluffs of white.  From my view, the belly of the clouds was bursting over the land far from me with shimmering sheets of lightning flickering underneath.  The indigo wave crept slowly over fields filled with cows and farmhouses dotted between dry stone dykes. 

I walked back to the car park and took out my flask of tea, enough time before the navel of the sky burst over me.  Great gusts flew through the trees leaving silver birch leaves fluttering and hanging on by a fibre.  But I sat there, at the recycled plastic picnic table that’s supposed to resemble wood and drank my tea and read my book, my eyes still squinting in the uncovered sun for over half an hour.

The first fat droplet splashed on my windscreen, as I raced just in front of the approaching bank of cloud, chasing me in my little car down narrow country roads, bellowing behind me, until, with the winds assistance, it sped in front spattering it’s juicy droplets, drowning out light.  I drove within the belly of the sky until we reached the crossroads, where I went my direction, the storm went it’s way, bored of chasing me, ready to nip the tail of another racer challenging it’s force.

Jane A. Cormack copyright 2009

 

Lilac Sea Glass Jewellery, rare glass necklace & another relocation

After a short hiatus from upkeeping my online Etsy store due to crazy time writing at the computer for my masters degree; I’ve began to update and add new, vibrant, fresh and funky designs to my store once more!!

http://www.etsy.com/shop.php?user_id=6011594

Today I listed in my shop one of my favourite pieces that I have hand made from lilac sea glass.  This rare colour of glass was collected from a Scottish beach.  I’ve combined it with amazingly vibrant colours of cherry quartz, turquoise, amethyst, rose quartz & crystals for sparkle. 

here is Lilac Rose: 

RARE LILAC SEA GLASS NECKLACE

So now I’m back, having moved countries again, it’s strange to be here at first.  I may start my ‘Gratitude Diary’ again to remind myself of all the small wonders and joyful experiences that happen day to day.  When I look too far ahead without any solid directions or plans, I find it calming to stay focused on the here and now, otherwise it becomes moments that I cannot remember.

I’ve relocated across the globe, from Scotland to Australia, from Australia to New Zealand with a few relocations within New Zealand, then from New Zealand to Scotland, from Aberdeen to London, and now London to Aberdeen with another relocation imminent in a couple of months time!  Sometimes it makes my head spin!

 

Poetry – Within Earth

Within Earth

Gulls surfing

wind currents

over fir trees,

waving in bushels,

pushing each other,

bossy, in their full winter greens.

 

Stark, spindly, bare branched tree,

naked,

but for stray berries

that cling,

denying seasons,

destined to perish.

 

If only they could see

to their nests within earth;

but they are immunue to time,

and time only can show

the glorious cherry blossom

that perish would grow.

 

Jane A. Cormack © 2009

 

The Human Race is a Funny Thing

The human race is a funny thing

Sometimes we forget

Who we really are,

 

Sometimes we regret

That we haven’t travelled far.

 

Sometimes we remain

In the same scenarios,

 

Sometimes we restrain

When our feelings start to show.

 

Sometimes we feel sorrow

When we never receive love,

 

Sometimes we forget

We are guided from above.

 

Sometimes we get too involved

In our own existence,

 

Sometimes people give us love

But still, we show resistance.

 

Sometimes we run away

Because we are too scared to stay.

 

Sometimes we depend

On a fellow soul,

 

Sometimes we may search

But never reach our goal.

 

Sometimes we do wrong

And never make amends,

 

Sometimes we cry inside

But never tell our friends.

 

Sometimes we are scared

To put ourselves on show,

 

Sometimes we hide away

So no one will ever know.

 

Sometimes we don’t listen

To what people have to say,

 

Sometimes we don’t care

They never listened anyway.

 

Sometimes we feel guilty

For being well and good,

 

Sometimes we use manners

Where we always should.

 

Sometimes we try to act

Like we don’t give a damn;

 

The human race is funny

How we treat our fellow man.

 

 

 

Creation Myth (or is it?)

The Diamond people were sparks of the divine, they were facets and each a unique facet of the multi-faceted God gem. The Diamond people were the divine consciousness that shone individually a powerful light energy, but in unity, an energy power that created new existence.

 

They shone their facets so that when the light rods overlapped with each other they began to grow the world. Each spark of the divine source was a creator in their own way, a God in their own sense and brought to the overlapping facets something uniquely theirs and so the earth was built layer upon layer from the core outwards.

 

The molten core was the inner structure, the hot beating heart of the giant organism, a heart like the Diamond ones that would pulse and radiate outwards towards the peripheries of that universe. The creatures they would place on the outer layers of earth and water would have a matching heart that pulsed in unison to that of the greater organism; this way the creatures would have an inherent understanding of the place from which they were created and that they inhabited. They would be able to communicate with the pulse of the world which would show them through their feelings and vibrations in their bodies that they were the creators on earth now.

 

The Diamond people wanted to make three dimensional puppets of them selves that could manifest in a solid dense energy. They couldn’t do the things they wanted in their dimensions of existence because it was made of fluid consciousness and whatever they wished was created instantly. The problem was the objects they created were instant projections of their conscious imaginings which they could breathe in and experience the essence of in one way but never feel the texture, or depth of because they could walk right through whatever they made.

 

One day one of the Diamond sparks said “lets create a theatre where we can be our God selves and act out our creations in a place where they manifest slowly enough so that we can see what is happening, so that our creations are dense enough that we can feel and touch and taste and experience sensations in a new way”

 

And so the earth was made, this grand theatre where the Diamond people could act and play and watch the process of their manifestations.

 

What the divine Diamond sparks didn’t realise was that when a part of their fluid energy came to inhabit the puppets they made on earth, they would forget everything about their own dimension. They would forget where they had come from and how they created their own puppets to play with and how they came to be these creatures on earth.

 

The Diamond people wondered the earth in these bodies they called the humans for centuries and when the bodies became worn and old their Diamond sparks would leave and suddenly be back in their dimension. They could see from there, looking down on the organism of earth what they had been doing and promised themselves they would remember who they were the next time they went down to play. They did this again and again, each time on the earth they would remember a little bit more about who they were and begin to manifest greater things on earth, more detailed and complex things until their power on earth became almost as great as the power in their own dimensions, but not quite.

 

 

 

The Gratitude Diary

Post 4  (see posts 1 or 2 for intro)

Friday 11th-Monday 14th July

The long weekend at the log cabin was a sumptuous nature immersed experience that brought me back into myself and out of myself at the same time.

I sat silently observing, in the moment, the sun creating shimmers with the breeze across the water, skimming and dancing over the surface.  A family of ducks explored every corner of the loch, their heads disappearing and bums emerging bobbing along, just bobbing bums popping up and down.  The little fluffy ducklings would jump out the water to snatch a beastie from the tops of the water reeds making little squeaks of exertion which made me laugh.

A robin, the same one that I recognised came and sat at the trunk of the tree, looking at me time and time again.

I saw a deer in the forest roaming silently through and a frog hidden under the grasses from the falcons circling above.

A red squirrel came searching for food and a woodpecker tapped away at a tree.

I cycled down to the river Birse and stood watching the amber coloured waters flowing past, listening to it’s tranquil music and looked closely at a purple thistle, our national flower, how soft the purple petals are.

A friend text-ed me ‘how ya doing?’ it’s nice to be thought of.

Some days were warm and I slept in the sun in front of the loch listening to the trees talking their talk with the wind fluttering through them and on the cold days I made a fire in the wood burner, nestled into the sofa and read my book that told me some truths.

 

Tuesday 15th July

I finished work and went to pick up a present for a friend.  Standing at the bus stop waiting for the half hourly bus home, it drove right past! didn’t even stop, how strange, so I walked up the street, walking and walking until the next bus stop and the nest bus would come.  I stood there, waiting in the warm wind eating corn chips for a while and then my bus came, I got on to pay but there was no paying box, so I got a free ride home.

 

The Gratitude Diary

Post 4 (see posts 1&2 for intro)

Friday 11th July 2008

It’s a half day today and a holiday weekend!! I’m going to a log cabin in the woods for the weekend situated on a beautiful Loch! I’m off right now.