Posts

Plane of Inspiration

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Just beyond this place To where these things begin Formation words are traced Flowing forth with grace Turning self within Formation words are traced Feelings interlaced Words becoming things Just beyond this place. Thoughts will only chase Linguistic offerings Formation words are traced They will never waste There for all to sing Just beyond this place Claim them clear with haste Give these words some wings Just beyond this place Formation words are traced. Leanne Margaret ©️2011

My Response to Setback

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iPhone pic also by Leanne Margaret If I am knocked off my feet I will walk on my hands. If I am knocked off my hands I will stand on my head. Whether I am walking on my feet or standing on  my head, I will keep on flipping forward. One granted the power of fire, Will be driven by its combustion. Leanne Margaret (C) 2016

The Esoteric Meaning of Coming 7 Circles Workshop

I am preparing for an afternoon of gentle, casual, lounge-worthy bellydance in a toasty warm and homey Healesville yoga studio.  The last six years of my dance journey has turned my attention toward the inner realms of the dance of life.    Your gift from the underworld of my experience is improved understanding of blocks that can distract energy away from otherwise well executed dance movements. Often these blocks exist on levels that are non-physical in origin; hence no amount of dance drills can loosen these energies until they are understood at their own level of reality.  I have found that it is not always possible or appropriate to remove physical blocks for various reasons. Dancers will work within the boundaries of their own body, gently coaxing energy into fluidty only as comfortable and safe. This means Majickal Bellydance is suitable for all levels of fitness. I have developed the Seven Circles Workshop to initiate awareness of the multidimensional experience of the da

Bellydancing Yogi on Obsessions and Passions in Empty Nests

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Majickal Bellydance is resting, not forgotten.  For now I have a new obsession: Yoga. Yoga isn't new to me. As dance teachers we borrow many yoga poses or asanas, performing the movements as stretches for warming up and cooling down, rarely emphasising the breath practices or pranayama.  My yoga mat had lay mostly rolled into dusty storage for long enough to raise a child. My daughter now focussed firmly on her own burgeoning life and my last bellydance class for now at the end of 2015, I needed a brand new obsession. Having finally finished writing my first book I showed up still in writer's rapture to my friend and colleagues yoga class. I had taught bellydance at her beautiful yoga studio in the past, www.yarravalleyyogaschool.com, but had only attended a few yoga workshops. I had been struggling for several years with PTSD (Post-traumatic stress disorder), keeping mobile through my years of illness by tailoring my dance classes toward health and by habituating myself tow

The Book

I'm resting in the quiet place created as the peak of creative accomplishment subsides. The long reached for celebration of submitting my first book manuscript to a publisher is a bittersweet thing. During the creation of a final draft I experienced some of the most peaceful moments of my life. Transitioning from those moments of pure hope and idealism, to the slow reality of the physical world of manifestation is a drag. It can be hard to keep my hope strong. Fortunately the principles contained within the book itself help to keep my mind focussed on the meaning and purpose of my chosen life path. I would love to discuss my new book but the time is not right. I hope to splash the principles of love, lovingly crafted by me, far and wide soon enough. Being a determined sort, no matter what dark mood threatens to bind my forward motion, I know from past history, that forward I will continue to move. For someone as easily bored as me, moving is the only way, forward the preferab

Whirling Dervish

Tight and slow with winter chill We were received into creation. Music strummed our lighted limbs. We were Venus and Mars. Earth centered our whirl and we warmed. Our hearts opened into ‘yes.’ Empty as space and full as eggs, Spinning chakras of a dance studio. Crying at the voice of the ‘call of the soul,’ Joyously answered. Creatures of earth en-souled. We remembered the big bang Back when we were stars, Sneezing planets into being. Orbits force spiraled energy, Like old dusters we spun away the junk, Opening our minds to catch the fractal light. He channeled stars and I could hear. Mercury spoke where language faltered. We became ourselves again, as light. Some were sick and wild with homecoming, Others danced their lifetimes of spinning. Spinning tops, laughing, falling, followed - A comets tail arced the room. White lights whirled above and below, Spinning colours of red, blue and violet, Scent of flowers, bread and even f

I Am a Horse

I must be a horse. Slim limbs twitch hyperactive, Spacious eyes on every gate. Irritation ripples them easily, They pound the ground, away. Dangerous when hostile; Willful beasts, prone to kicking and Snorting their temper all chunky veined. Mouthy and Hyper-responsive. Uncontrollable, unless broken. Easily damaged, they abhor force. Mild as doves, then bold they run To find remembered spacious fields Away from the herd. I am a horse. Leanne Margaret copyright  2015