Winter Solstice

Day 1 – Winter
Day 2 -Winter
Day 3 – Winter
Day 4 – Winter
Day 5 – Winter
Day 6 – Winter
Day 7- Winter
Day 8 -Winter
Day 9 – Winter
Day 10 – Winter
Day 11- Winter
Day 12 – Winter
Day 13 – Winter
Day 14 – Winter
Day 15 – Winter

 Seasons and Cycles – ©2019 Melody R. Green | All rights reserved.

Autumn Equinox

Day 1 – Autumn
Day 2 – Autumn
Day 3 Autumn
Day 4 Autumn
Day 5 – Autumn
Day 6 – Autumn
Day 7 – Autumn
Day 8- Autumn
Day 9 – Autumn
Day 10 –  Autumn
Day 11 – Autumn
Day 12 – Autumn
Day 13 – Autumn
Day 14 – Autumn
Day 15 – Autumn

Seasons and Cycles ©2019 Melody R. Green | All rights reserved.

The Face of the Imposter

The room was locked and the door heavily padded. The guard with the keys waited for me to ask…

“Why is the door padded?”

“You’ll see when you open the door. You might need these.” he passed me a pair of heavy duty ear muffs that I’d seen on construction sites. He unlocked the door and the noise was excruciating. I put my ear muffs on and entered the room.

The noise was still deafening  but at least I could be in the confined space. In the centre of the room was a very small woman, barely two foot tall. She stood on a dais and in front of her was the largest megaphone I’d even seen, it was at least twenty foot tall and took up most of the space in the room. The woman wore heavy duty ear muffs as well and was yelling into the megaphone bullying, abusive comments. Her continuous tirade included comments such as..

“Who do you think you are doing this!”

“You know other’s have tried this and failed so you won’t win!”

“Stop right now! You can’t do this!”

“Here you are again, making out you know better!”

“You know you’re an abject failure why do you insist on trying to succeed you stupid bitch!”

“You think you’re better than me but you aren’t!”

“You’re such a failure! No one loves you!”

“You don’t belong here, go away!!!!!”

“Just you wait till the others find out what a loser you are. Then you’ll have nowhere to hide!”

On and on and on her mouth vomited putrid words of disdain, anger, frustration and degradation. It was overwhelming.

I bent down and touched her hand. She looked at my larger hand on hers and stopped in shock, and then got off the podium and backed away in fear.

“What do you want?” I could barely hear her, so I removed the ear muffs.

“I only want to talk to you.” I said. Without the megaphone the place was eerily quiet and her voice was totally insignificant and raspy sounding.

“What do I want? No one’s ever asked me that before.”

“Well I’m asking you now.”

“I want to be listened to instead of ignored.”

“Why are you calling me those terrible names and suggesting I’m an imposter?”

“Because you are!” her voice rose

“Well, I can see you think  that of me, but why?”

“Because you took over. You took my place. You barged in and changed the relationship I had with Mother. I was Mother’s dream girl and you were the reality and she started focusing on you more. So I could get Mother’s attention I started repeating what she said to you. And as I got older you became deaf to my words, so I had to keep shouting louder and louder. You were always disobedient and I was a good girl. I always did what Mother asked, but she gave you all her attention as she tried to make you conform, fit in, not rock the boat and she ignored me!”

“So you’re saying I’m an imposter because I won’t accept what my Mother wants of me?”


“What if in the ‘real’ me, my authentic, true self I am different from what my Mother wanted?”

“Well that’s the trouble with you, you can’t be, it’s not allowed!”

“Why not?”

“Because we won’t be loved, and if we’re not loved, how can we survive?”

“Well I could and would love you, if you stopped shouting at me that I’m bad and an imposter all the time. Would you like to be loved by me?” I smiled.

She nodded slowly. And so I took her hand in mine as though she were my dearly loved sister. My heart filled with love and as I did she started to grow until she was the same size as me. 

With a quick in breath she dissolved into my heart and was part of me instead of apart from me.

My imposter self was no more.

There was only me, whole and true.

Mosaics | ©2018 – 2019 Melody R. Green | All rights reserved.

The Face of Poverty

The room was grimy with dirt and neglect. It looked like a fire had burned it out and yet people were still having to live in it. It was cold and I spied a rat scurrying into the corner as I walked in.

Children sat on the floor listless, tears dried in streaks down their faces, showing their misery in this place. 

At the old table sat a thin woman. Her hair grey and lank, her dress old and worn, clinging loosely to her body and showing where she’d been bigger than she was now.

Everywhere was grey, lifeless and overwhelmingly hopeless.

I went over to her and placed a bag of apples and a box of chocolates onto the table. Why I’d brought them in I didn’t know.

The worn woman took a apple and lifted it to her nose, breathing deeply of the honeyed freshness as though the aroma would be enough for her for the moment.

She opened the chocolates and judiciously divided them into three beckoning her children to come and get their share. 

As the children put them into their mouths the greyness seemed to dissipate. they certainly didn’t look vibrant or healthy but they did look alive at least.

“How long have you lived like this?” I asked.

“I can’t remember. We never had much and then my husband died and we cane here to live. Once you come here it’s almost impossible to ever get out. This is Poverty. You come here shiny and clean with a desire to leave as soon as possible, but it wears you down and wears you out… the constant hunger, the lack of opportunity to break the cycle and you age. age before your time and everything is drained from you, the will to change, the will to grow and finally the will to live.

Poverty is a living death sentence.

The children had finished eating the chocolates and as they did so the room began to transform. More warmth, light and colour began to seep into the grey. The woman too, was starting to change. Her clothes began to fit her and they coloured up, not bright, still muted but cleaner and brighter nevertheless.

As we talked of how to find help, makes plans and take action, the woman started to enliven.

“What’s happening? she asked.”I’m feeling more hopeful.”

“Exactly! Your poverty has made you lose hope and without hope we can’t change our circumstances. We need to hope to activate our creativity and problem solving skills, and this is what is happening to you. When you lose hope you can’t appreciate what you already have and so it’s hard to build more.

Now with hope as your fuel, you’ll be able to see possibilities and openings. Remember to acknowledge each step forward, each success as a win. Focus on what you’re achieving and not on what’s missing in your life and then you will be able to accumulate a little more until you can live in more comfort and joy.

Your children are healthy and happy. see how you can help them break free of poverty and in so doing you will release yourself as well.”

With that, she took her children and left the grey hovel for good.

Mosaics | ©2018 – 2019 Melody R. Green | All rights reserved.

How to Find One of Your Faces and Create Your Own Mosaics

Ok dear readers!

I heard you and now I want to give you a practical blog on how to make it happen!

Here’s the method I use:

  1. Go into a meditative space and ask the aspect of you to enter your space and be willing to communicate with you.
  2. Because you’re male or female does not mean you will have only corresponding selves that are the same as you. Be open to hear from all aspects of yourself.
  3. Take in all the information. The place, the personality, the story, message and action this part wants to take to heal. You may have to prompt this part of you to express its need. Be gentle. You may be talking to a part of you that is traumatised. Don’t rush. Take your time. Do what you feel drawn to do. Draw, write, collage the energy until you feel it’s right.
  4. Each aspect of you will have a complimentary opposite. Sometimes you have to draw that part of you forward as well. Listen to what this part of yourself feels about your broken bits. Is there any judgement happening? Is the positive aspect of you allowing and accepting the hurt part?  Who is doing the loving?  If you can’t see the compassion coming from your positive self, know it is your positive self that is holding on and keeping you stuck by their judgement.
  5. This recovery of self is supported by the universal law which states:       “A space must be filled with something. Therefore if your hurt face is ready to go back to Love, you will need to activate the positive part of you that has lain dormant.”
  6. Welcome this positive aspect of self, give it space to be alive and vibrant in your life. This part of you will tell you what it needs.
  7. Over the following weeks keep a journal to record all the ways this  positive self changes your reality.

You will be surprised and delighted by this process.

Mosaics | ©2019 Melody R. Green | All rights reserved.