Hello my dear. 

Although we may not have met, I already count you as my friend.

You see, the world is counting on us to share our gifts….

And we must help each other rise.

Sharing nakedly is scary for me. I’m pretty sure it is scary for most of us. Yet being real, vulnerable and brave is how I serve the world. And if you are here reading these words I’m pretty sure it’s how you can serve the world too.

So how are you going to bless the world?
And how can I support you to do that?

Write to me and let me know and I promise to write back.

Sharing my heart and words is my courageous response to a world that so often overwhelms me. I am one human-being willing to expose my inner world to remind others that we are all the same.

My prayer is that my humanness becomes a shade tree for you to rest under, a light to comfort you and a map to guide you home. 

Adventuring through this rich, messy and beautiful life isn’t always easy.
It’s not meant to be. That’s some cheap, new age idea that
keeps people buying things they never really needed in the first place.

Embracing joy each day is one of the scariest adventures of my life! It’s a curious thing that I have often felt more at ease with challenges and hardship than bright illuminated joy. My intention for the rest of my life is to feed and nourish joy in my own life and on this planet!

We all live the seasons of life. They come to expose and lay bare the humanness that connects each and every one of us together. There is nothing wrong with how your life looks right now. Without winter, how could we ever enjoy Spring?

The seasons depend on each other. We do too.

I write to offer something back for the countless books that have saved and changed my life. My words are love letters left behind. 

I firmly believe we all have the answers planted within us, all we need is the courage to explore. By gently listening to ourselves, seeking support and continuing to trust the next ‘tiny step’ that is whispering to us, we will awaken and realise we have made it to our dreams.

My offerings are an invitation to you, may they transform your life.

And remember to create time to celebrate the place where you are right now, it is exactly where you are meant to be, it’s on your map, it is the foundation for all you dream of, I can see it.

Regardless of how your life looks,
NOW is the perfect foundation for you to build upon.

Don’t be afraid to enjoy this big delicious smorgasbord of life. Choose courage over comfort whenever you can. Work with your resistance, maybe even make friends with it. And alongside this, keep making friends with JOY…

Here are my daily self-instructions….

Show up.
(Even when you feel afraid).

Be kind to yourself.
(Especially when its hard and when you make mistakes).

Be kind to others.
(Remember kindness looks many ways and includes boundaries).

Boundaries.
Don’t get out of bed without them!

Forgive.
(Yourself.. daily! And strive to forgive others, from a distance if you have to, because carrying that weight serves no one).

Take care dear one.

With love and kindness,
In service, KMF xo

The post A personal letter from KMF xo appeared first on Kate M Foster.

When you lose someone to suicide, life changes forever…. Yet somehow, Soni’s death continues to bring me alive… She somehow invites me to truly LIVE each day as the precious gift it is….

Truly LIVING is a gift i never expected to unravel out of grief…

It’s been a long time since you visited my dreams…. thank you for coming you luscious creature, this was my favourite visit yet xo

p.s. Poems are songs that whisper from the stars… so grateful this one fell from heaven xo

Last night
your joy was alive

Swirling it’s way through my heartbeat 

Leading me

Forward,

Dancing, 

Shenanigans,

Weaving life into my veins.

My footprints sparkled with starlight

Singing praises to the darkness and all its gifts exposed.

Laughter 

Once again

the mess that joined us,

Joy Dripping from our lips, 

The weight of a thousand stars burned all that was heavy and dead

And we were together again. 

Life lived through us

Play was the name of the game

your reckless laughter 

igniting my own

And Bending my bones 

While

My ears tuned in to the divinity I’d forgotten.

Ive missed you my friend

Your shade is my ice cream on a summer’s day

How did you know I’ve been

Yearning for 

the ‘me’ 

that was light and alive and no longer afraid of happiness.

Time had not touched you, 

The weariness I imagined was not a cloak you owned.

Sunshine revealed
no weight in your bones.

I’d forgotten how to dance like that. 

Together 

No shame,

no anger, 

Just oceans singing through our veins. 

I needed your visit.

I’d packed away that feeling,

The taste of fun,

But it looks good on my lips 

So I won’t be carrying around this dead coat 

or wearing it any longer. 

I lost it last night when you woke me from my slumber 

I’m

Awake now

And I won’t be searching for the darkness….

The post Words from a dream… appeared first on Kate M Foster.

This weekend at the mid winter festival we stumbled upon the children’s story telling competition. Freya was sitting right up the front as they were prepping the stage. All of a sudden she ran back and told me she was going to sign up for the competition (😳 insert my terror here)! All I could say was “you go for it love!” And then she ran back to the front of the audience to rejoin her friends (that she had met just a few minutes earlier). Using my voice has been one of my biggest lessons, and for a good number of decades I used extreme preparation to counter balance my extreme fear. As freya ran off I felt 5 years old and frozen. That little girl in me wanted to step in and warn her of all the things that could go wrong, to tell her that kids had been preparing for months and she had only just come up with the idea. To brace her because it can be scary to get up on stage with only you and a microphone 🎤 with hundreds of people looking back in silence. I wanted to caution her and encourage her to come back next year when she had time to prepare and had at least watched a story telling competition once in her life…. But… the 40 year old me had one clear request of myself. Please dear woman: Keep your mouth shut and smile.

And that’s what i did. 
I watched 7 children stand up and tell their well rehearsed stories (and I silently smiled as my mind did its thing). The 8th child was Freya. When her name was called she joyfully made her way to the very front of the stage and smiled while the sound guy adjusted her mic. 
I was in awe…. and totally frieking out… Then those shiny words fell from her lips with an ease I’ve never known…

Once upon a time there were two sisters, they were best friends…

And she never looked back.

I of course bounced between terror, presence and awe the whole time and when she said those famous words…. “the end”…. I wanted to scream and shout and kiss her and the earth because we had all survived!!!

The audience and I applauded wildly. The compare couldn’t believe she hadn’t pre prepared and had simply showed up minutes before.

But freya, Wild, free and certain as ever, simply clutched her $25 prize voucher from Fullers Bookstore and said “mama, once you get on stage you get used to it. I want to do it more”…

#naturalstoryteller
#Blessherheart
#Sheispracticingherautograph
#Imayneedmoretherapy
#Sheismyinspiration
#Thismotherhoodgig
#Motherhoodthetoughesthood
#Learningeveryday
#Myinvitationtotrust

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I offer you this chapter of my book as a gift… a gift in honour of Mary. If I could wish one thing for you it may just be that you too could have a Mary in your life…

These pictures were taken the last time we spoke…. xoxo

You will find these words on page 145 of my hardcover book,
An Invitation to Trust.

Make friends from all corners of the world. 

Honour diversity. You don’t have to agree in order to be kind and care for each other. 

My world contains the richest ragamuffin group of loveable humans you could ever imagine. By ragamuffin I mean diverse. Diverse in age, race, religion, culture, political views and their preferred method of folding their toilet paper (I’ve discovered scrunch or fold are the most common choices). In this book, I’ve written about a few of these friends and while I could easily have written about every single one of them and the wonder and beauty they birth into this world, I have chosen not to. Some things I guard with my life, my friends’ privacy and safety is one of them. I hold them close and dear to my own heart because our friendships are based on deep trust, consideration and respect. Friendship is a safe place for us to meet. Their absence in this book was simply a choice to shelter them from the spotlight and onslaught that can come from being exposed bare and naked in front of others. 

Now, it’s with deep care and respect that I introduce you to a few of my friends Mary and Mr Mac. They are husband and wife. They changed my life. Mr Mac’s real name is Arthurum Chichester Buchanan McCartney, he came from a time and place where names were as strong as the integrity you walked in. Most people called him Chic.To me he was always Mr Mac. His presence, while entirely matter of fact, was as warm as any heart I have ever encountered. Some people were scared of him, I found him safe and whole and good. From the time we first met, every single day after school, I would run next door and sit with him in his room. 

Some days we talked. Mostly we didn’t. We simply sat and basked in the presence we offered each other. 

In his younger years, Mr Mac was a radio operator in the Merchant Navy. Using Morse code and regular radios, he had steered ships to safety during the war, earning many medals for his efforts.That’s what he did for me too, steered me to safety. For the most part, he spent his retirement in peace in his radio room at the very end of his house. Not many people ventured into this room. It was like a den, another world.The walls were lined with shelves, which overflowed with books and artefacts from his life. He had his computers and a full old school radio set. 

Sometimes I would pull an artefact from his shelf and he would tell me a story. He helped me with my homework, he was the smartest human I knew. Upon his shelves was one of the only complete sets of the National Geographic magazine in the world. They were always trying to buy it back from him. I often feigned a need for help with my homework as a way to escape and run next door and sit with him in that den of warmth, peace and safety. Some people thought him harsh or brash, I never understood why. In the school holidays, he would occasionally let me listen to his radio conversations for a little while. He always told the men when I arrived and once they knew of my presence their conversations never lasted long. I’m not sure what they talked about, I do know that they found as much solace in his presence as I did. It amazed me that even after a whole lifetime, those naval mates managed to speak daily. Like clockwork, at the same time each and every day, in many countries all around the world, they each sat in their radio rooms and connected. They shared a lifetime commitment to honour each other, comradeship, the foundation their friendship was built upon. 

Mr Mac’s routine was solid. Each day, at the same time, he would drive the 20 kilometres to town to check the mail, visit 

the local electronics shop and collect anything on the list that his wife Mary had written. It was Mr Mac who drove me to work at the same time every Saturday morning. He walked me down the street, I was always on the inside, him on the outside, as this, he told me, was the only acceptable way a gentleman would walk. He delivered me to my door and wished me a good day. 

He listened when I had meltdowns, telling me such things as, “Never cross a bridge before you come to it, so much time is wasted in life worrying about things that never come” and, “For goodness sakes, don’t nag your husband. Be honest and clear and ask him for what you want and I promise he will do the best he can to support you.” He also sided with me when I was heartbroken, “The world is full of fools, don’t listen to them.” His reliability and constancy taught me about the goodness of men. His acceptance and generosity nourished my trust in the world. 

Mr Mac lived 88 years, which happens to be my goal too. He died when I was overseas on holidays with my family last year. Because I was out of range, I didn’t hear of his passing until I returned home a week after his funeral.A phone message from his daughter came through when we landed and I sat in the airport and unashamedly cried. I’m so sorry I couldn’t be there to celebrate and honour his life along with everyone else. My love for both him and his wife will continue evermore.The woman I am today rests upon those years I spent sharing in silence, with the occasional conversation thrown in. It was an unlikely friendship, beautiful in every way. 

Deep breath. 

Now his wife Mary, she is a whole different human. Tall, elegant, beautiful and enchanting in every imaginable way. Joy her constant companion. Kindness and subtlety are her ways. When I fell in love with her Canadian heart, I automatically decided that I would like every other Canadian person I ever met in my whole life. As private as Mr Mac was, Mary is in equal proportion fun, flamboyant and wild. I have never been greeted by any human more kind and charming than Mary. When you arrive at her doorstep, her response is how I imagine God might look like when she sees us. The first thing Mary does when you arrive is take a deep breath, her eyes widening as she smiles and almost breathes your beauty in. “Oh my, you are looking beautiful. Oh how wonderful. Gorgeous. Stand there, don’t move, let me look at you.”And she does, she looks with her whole being. Everything in her stops and she looks at you as if you are a miracle. Sometimes her eyes leak and when she is done, she pulls you in for a hug, squeezing you tight. 

That’s how I want to greet the world, the same way Mary and God do. That’s my measuring stick. I’m still perfecting it, yet I have faith because I trained with a master. 

Mary taught me to parallel park. Every time I do it, I hear her voice guiding me. It was Mary, who, even in her seventies, would pull up at the end of the fashion runway when modelling for the local clothing stores, and take an extra thirty seconds to spin and twirl so that every single human present could soak in her beauty. It’s Mary who turns up at a Toastmasters training to teach and inspire youth with a tea cosy on her head. 

In my final year of school, Mary and Mr Mac flew me to Sydney with them for a weekend of culture. They introduced me to places I had never been nor knew existed. We spent a day in the art gallery viewing Monet’s art.We visited and ate at the botanic gardens.We shopped in the QueenVictoria Building for new frocks and then we wore those frocks to my first ever theatre performance, Phantom of the Opera. Mary set the bar for what beauty is for me and I dreamed that one day I may become like her, spreading kindness and joy, travelling the world, buying bargain haute couture and then returning to my beautiful home surrounded by friends, art and fun. 

That night, the night of the theatre, a vision of sophisticated elegance, Mary walked from the bedroom with a refined air of grace. Mr Mac was waiting to see our new frocks. What he wasn’t prepared for was the fake nose ring Mary had hanging from her face. She was as cool as a cucumber. He exploded with distaste. She played the cool fool for a good minute and a half, an eternity in Mr Mac’s world, before she finally caught the snorting giggles, another of the things I loved about her.We retreated to the bedroom to roll around laughing for a good ten minutes or more. 

Mary taught me joy. She taught me to be proud of the snorting laughter and belly cramps I got from hanging in her presence. After I had sat with Mr Mac, I would wander to the other end of the house where classical music was always playing and Mary and I would sit and share time. Some days we would bake pumpkin pie or cinnamon rolls, she was always attempting to convince me to learn bridge.We would plan her menu for the upcoming ladies bridge day (Prior to my time with Mary, I had never heard of cold soup!) or we would simply read Vogue fashion magazine together and dream of wearing the latest styles. Mary concreted in me a fathomless love of snail mail as she maintained friendships with penpals from all over the world. She also taught me that magic can truly exist as a grown-up. Not one part of me doubts that the fairy she saw as a child was real. My friend Mary is like no other, my oldest wildest friend to date! Her presence in my life is luminous. 

As you can see, my friends are vast and varied. May you come to know that friends need not fit neatly into any particular mould. I encourage you to find space for all kinds of people in your heart. If you are anything like me, maybe some people will scare you, listen to your gut and trust its messages. However, if the fear you feel is a shy or hiding kind of fear, be brave, go and meet those people, tell them something wonderful that you notice about them, you can even tell them you are afraid. All humans need kindness, especially the ones that build big walls. Be kind to them too.You never ever know where this will lead. I pray you too have your own versions of Mary and Mr Mac in your world, people who love you and who leave you to be courageously entirely you. 

All love, KMF xo

The post Saying goodbye to beloved Friends is never easy…. appeared first on Kate M Foster.

Listening to ‘Morning has broken’ my eyes began to leak and I asked myself:

“When does the grief finally end?

When will I finally be done and ok with letting go?” 

And to my utter astonishment, with the most surreal sweetness, 
grief answered:

“My dear, I shall live as long as you love, for within me lies the doorway to your most awakened compassionate heart… “

People will tell you that they wouldn’t change a thing in their life, that all of those ‘hard messy moments’ led them here… and this moment is divine…. 

And while I agree, I would also add that I’d change many things…. I’d set unwaveringly clear boundaries with my body and being and speak up and defend them with my life…. and I’d wrap all of my body and being and its perceived imperfections in a warm loving embrace, reassuring myself I was already enough, and that the ways others had violated me meant everything about them, and nothing about me.

I’d be less rigid and afraid. I’d say yes to so many more chances, i’d play and have oceans more fun. I’d caress my fear and seriousness into joyfull surrender…. Saying yes to so much more.. including that glass of red wine… 

Id shelve my righteousness and choose connection. I’d forgive myself so quickly shame would never find a resting place in my life and I’d whisper the words I needed to hear into my own precious ears… 

If I had the chance to choose over, I’d never be so afraid of love and life that I would run from the goodness and the relationships that fulfilled me. I’d give myself permission to say yes to my dreams decades before I finally did … 

But… My past is a salve that heals, if I let it… 

And while at times my heart breaks daily, I remind myself it was also made to, and those broken bits are the places all the love flows in and out.

I’m a rich, messy, beautiful contradiction and you have permission to be one too. 

Gentle days to you,

All love, KMF 

 @ Hobart, Tasmania

2 LONG AWAITED Brand New Invitation to Trust Oracle Decks are currently going to print and will be available in 3 months time – date to be released soon. To be the first to get your hands on my Daily Guidance Oracle or Self Love and Self Care Oracle pre-order here www.Katemfoster.com/shop

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The post Imagine a human who loved her life……. appeared first on Kate M Foster.

Some days, quite unexpectedly, dreams do come true. And it seems when they do blossom it is usually with the support and love of others…. rarely do they ever blossom by themselves.

Twelve years ago while working alongside many Biripi people in NSW i received a message that I was to take women on retreats to the red centre of Australia. I was to connect them with the traditional owners out there and allow the magic and vast timeless nature of lore to heal them and guide them to remember that which they already knew.

At the time I had no idea how this would ever come about, I simply new the pull to get out in that red sand (munda) was loud and clear. I listened and trusted that in time I would know the way.

Some dreams take many moons to unfold. This was one of them. I am yet to find the words to share with you what we shared and experienced on our Returning Home Sacred Womens Retreat. I am not sure if they will ever come. What i do know is that my Anangu family has invited us to return again next April and so I will be inviting applications from women wishing to attend. There are only 11 spaces. This retreat is not for everyone and due to the remote nature of this retreat suitability will be carefully assessed.

You will know if you are ready.

I am infinitely thankful to the land, the spirits, the ancestors, the traditional owners, the women and all who made this sacred sharing possible. May all beings receive the blessings of what unfolded in this sacred land.

Even if you you do not come on retreat with me please do consider visiting central Australia, Uluru and surrounds invites you to a depth of being you may not have experienced before. I promise you wont be disappointed…

It is important to acknowledge that these images were captured by my dear friend Jessica Blaine Smith. This woman has shared and documented real moments from my life for as many moons as it took for this adventure to unfold. Her heart sees beyond and somehow she captures truth. Thanks for blessing me and the world Jess, yet again, you made it real. http://jbsmithphotography.com/ ps.I am excited for your coming offerings…

The post Dreams do come true… appeared first on Kate M Foster.

It’s easy for me right!

I’ve got this dream life…

I have a relationship nothing short of miraculous and each day is vision of my greatest hopes and aspirations. All this IS true! Entirely!!!

AND… look a little further and you will see this DREAM LIFE is built upon a truckload of failure, sacrifice and showing up when I could have easily bowed out, taken the easy route, hid, settled or denied my deepest heart.

Do you know how often I am judged?

Daily.

Others can be so quick to judge the way I live, to criticise, diminish, measure,  compare or assume they have insight into who I am and how I came to this very moment. And the truth is, most people, even those closest, do not have a fricken clue.

Even people within my own family judge me for the ways they believe I am not living a life of integrity, compassion, generosity or kindness. Hell, how could I judge them for that when I spent so many years judging myself!

I accept the mess that is a small part of my life and my response to mess is this:

Go to town. Judge. Question. Gee even ridicule if you need. Resent if you must. You are entirely free to think, feel and subscribe to whatever life you want.

Spending your moments judging me is one way you are free to spend the finite moments of your life. I accept that. Yet, know this, I set boundaries. I don’t necessarily accept what you offer. You are free to slander and criticise and at the same time I will choose to honour self kindness again and again. This may mean I love you from a distance, because there is no way I will model ‘unwrapping other people’s pain’ and accepting it as my own to my children.

Kindness is many things. It may be a humble willing heartful yes I accept that, it may equally be a no way in hell is that ok.

In showing up I serve and support the people who want what I have to offer. People who are willing to accept what I CAN give. And for all the other people that remind me I am not yet enough for them, well bless them too. {As a side note it is important to acknowledge I may never ever again be what they want me to be}.

You know what I plan to do the moment I finish writing here, I’m going to continue celebrating this beautiful life and being deeply thankful for all of it. I will offer thanks for the courage I have to give to the world in all the ways that I already do and I will be thankful that I have learnt to set boundaries to honour peace and wellbeing in my life.

For as long as I live I will return to celebrating my beauty along with my frailties and my failures, cause each of these have birthed immeasurable gifts in my life and also the lives of many others.

The path to this moment certainly wasn’t easy….

BUT… and I do NOT BUT lightly, I would trade my life’s moments for it over and over again. I would walk through each refiners fire, heartbroken, yet willing to pay the price to be here NOW.

You may be interested to know that this beautiful dream life I live {which can change in any moment, and frequently has countless times before} is built upon heartbreak, abuse and a rock solid choice to honour life over death, freedom over security, love over resentment, forgiveness over suffering and self kindness over pleasing others.

So unlike my page, find another saviour or even hang around and judge on. The choice is yours.

Let me be clear.  It is my unwavering intention to serve life every breath by listening and following through. I show up in alignment with the highest consciousness I have access to in each and every moment. I promise to leave a clear map, a tried and true path to how I arrived here in this moment. You are free to harvest from this as you wish. But please know, I’m not here to save anyone’s ass, cause if ass’s could be saved no one I know would suffer. The world would be happy and at peace and everyone the world over would be living their dream lives!

The inconvenient truth is this,  you’ve gotta save your own ass.

However if you want company on the messy lonely path to your dream life, I’m here for you.

All love and honesty, KMF xo
 (I honour my ancestors, ALL of them. The ones I know and the ones I’ll never get to meet. I also acknowledge that my life rests upon the ‘life force’ that was given to my by my mother and father. Just like me, they have showed up and given the very best they can each and every moment. I honour that. I also honour my step dad for all the love and support he has given that has allowed me to become the human I am today.)

The post This Dream Life… appeared first on Kate M Foster.

My family is sleeping, the girls in their tent in our bedroom and Rob in our bed nearby. I cant go to sleep yet. I’m too worked up. There is an agitation in my body. It’s a nameless anger. Im not really sure why? When I listen to it I understand it is an ancient anger, an anger long carried in my ancestors lineage, that generation by generation has been passed along to the next and the next. It belongs to no one yet all of us. I pray it ends with me.

I suppose right now at this time it has arisen to return to its rightful home. It is coursing through my veins. If I was to get intimate with it, roll in it, ferment in it, who knows what might happen. I understand it isn’t asking for this. I also clearly understand that I must not turn from it either. For me to live and for this anger to find it’s way to peace, to return to oneness once again, it must be listened too, respected, acknowledged and at the same time given safe healthy boundaries of how it is welcome to allow itself to be known.

Sometimes when life asks me to step up my service to the world, old pockets of life also rise to be seen. Places where I am playing roles that not longer fit, roles that don’t serve me or the other humans involved. I guess now is one of those times.

When I was younger I honestly believed that anyone who truly served life and greatly benefited others had a picture perfect upbringing, deep loving connections with their family of origin (mother, father, siblings etc) and had their life fully sorted. You know the Disney movies kind of sorted! (Please be kind to me, I am prone to idealism).

Now in my 38th year I know this isn’t true, that while it may be possible, I am still yet to meet a human who truly embodies this Disney kind of reality. You see life is messy. Relationships are hard work. None of us have had the perfect conditions to grow yet each of us must do our best to keep blossoming where we are planted.

I am deeply thankful to my parents, both my biological parents and my dad who raised me. They have each offered as much love, generosity and support as they could. I honour and value all they have given yet I can never repay them in the same way. My role is different, I am their child. What I can do is pay it forward to my children and the world.

It sometime surprises me that I have my own family now, for a long time I don’t think i was fully here for my children, I was still immersed in my family of origin. Just as I witnessed my parents dancing with patterns from their families and stepping away from their childhood roles, I realise I am being asked to do the same.

It can never be the way it was when I was younger, life keeps moving on whether we want it to or not.

My relationship with my family of origin certainly isn’t perfect. The sobering reality is that I can not give them what they want and this is hard for everyone.

I understand now that if my love could have saved them from hardships or suffering it would have happened long ago. Maybe it was simply never my job to make it right for them? Each of us suffers and no one can ever know the truth of how or why. We each have an inner world so vast no other human could ever grasp it completely, it was ignorant of me to imagine I could be the one to save any of them. Regardless of how each of our lives look, I acknowledge we are all doing our best in this big beautiful messy dance.

I often say kindness looks many ways. Kindness can be counter intuitive. Being kind isn’t always saying yes, sometimes the most compassionate response is a clear discerning no.

The truth is my love for my family has not changed, however my boundaries have.

I am a grown up now. I have my own family. And while I honour my past none of us can live our lives backwards. We can only serve and support life here and now. People get to choose whether they want what we can offer. We also must listen and discern whether we can offer what they are asking for.

Finally I have given myself permission to be happy and enjoy today, with or without my families blessing.

You see I am allowed to be happy even if they are not. Not from a heartless inconsiderate place, rather a place of acknowledging we are all so intimately connected and woven together whether we choose to acknowledge it or not. We belong to each other whether we believe it or not.

The truth of life asks each of us to step into the kind of brave that may even be required to love from a distance for a chapter, maybe even a lifetime.

With this space my courage continues to grow. My trust in all the seasons a constant companion in my aloneness. I am filled with a deep sense of wonder for this peculiar curious life.

In my ever growing garden of gratitude there are more than enough flowers to share with everyone, however they may not be the flowers you are wanting?!

So even if you don’t want what I am offering I encourage you to value yourself, care deeply for your own precious heart, show up for yourself in the ways you long for life to care for you and maybe even create some boundaries.

Autumn is settling in and I am cold, sleep is closer now. I have written my way back to peace as I so often do. Thank goodness for this way to honour all the colours that I am. Writing is my forever friend until i no longer can.

Before I go please know I honour my family and all of your families too. They have given all they can and each of us are grownups now. I pray that all beings on this planet find a way to health, peace, happiness and purpose in this life… And as we are in the grownup business of asking for the things we would like, may I also request some lavish joy and celebration for all of us too.

Sleep sweet if you are on my side of the earth, enjoy your day if you are floating in sunshine.

All love and gratitude for the richness of this life, KMF xo

The post Anger lives here…. appeared first on Kate M Foster.

This is how I like to remember her most, happy, free and letting the joy of life flow through her. The truth is her death was long and slow, yet in this picture she is free of that. She is free to dance, to sing, to play and to look at the beauty and gifts her sacred sacrifice set forth on this earth.

I bow to her courage. I know my own heart through hers.

Norma Margaret, you paved the way for this moment. I love you forever.

I wish each of you reading this could taste and feel and smell the joy of this moment. I wish the love could permeate your whole being so you once again remember the truth of this life. Yet all I can do is find some frail words that shall never express the preciousness of this life nor this moment.

Our lineage is powerful. We take this breath because of the gifts and sacrifice of all who came before us. We stand as an offering of love. We exist simply as an embodied expression of truth, we exist to share and serve and bless all we encounter.

Wherever you find yourself in this moment, may you be blessed. May your gifts overflow to fill this whole wide world with peace and purpose, love and a gentle joy. May kindness be a salve that saturates your entire being and may it puddle at your feet, infecting the whole planet wherever you wander.

All love, KMF xo

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