Dear Reader,                        

Welcome to my inner worlds. It's high time to let the selves out of the bag...why not? You see, I have a brain-mind stuck on permanent meta-process, I like to think of it as a gift rather than an affliction. I'm also a woman who has been listening intimately to inner voices for years-- mine and those of other women.

I've done this listening in the capacity of a therapist, educator, workshop facilitator, mother, and of course as a friend. 

Shortly after my Mom, the most amazing woman I've ever known died, she came through the unlikely channel (or Chanel as Deidre would say) of a palm reader who works in a book store in Sydney. My daughter whom I was visiting at the time and I had spontaneously booked the appointment. The young woman who sat next to me in a room the size of a broom closet had a gaze like Ophelia and so far as I know knew only my name. Yet there she was, assuming my mother's countenance complete with jutting jaw and fixed green-eyed stare as she said "Why do you keep wondering what to do with your life--don't you know women need a place to tell their stories"?

Whether it was Mom coming through or just some longing she read inside me--she's right.

Women do need a place to tell our stories and this ( If I can figure out the HTML) is now mine.

You're most welcome to share sacredly irreverent space here....a dearth of which is, in my own opinion a true environmental crisis if ever there was one.

Gwendolyn.