Tag Archive: shiloh sophia mccloud

Just Dare…

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Just Dare Dare to re-invent yourself when you don’t know what that looks like yet. Dare to dream bigger than you feel comfortable dreaming. Dare to love unreasonably, even if you have been… Continue reading

What if the Law of Attraction isn't true…‏

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This article was published on Tuesday in Cosmic Cowgirls Magazine, and it caused quite a stir…if you would like to comment with your views, enter the conversation and see what others said, read… Continue reading

Rage Against Mediocrity + Livestream Your Dreams on Saturday‏

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The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you. don’t go back to sleep. You must ask for what you really want. Don’t go back to sleep. People are going back and forth… Continue reading

The Festival of the Open Heart – My First Poem of 2014

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The Festival of the Open Heart Look, there is a festival happening! We are gathering in the streets to be in the space of what excites us! Stop trying to save yourself and… Continue reading

A Creative Being Creed by Shiloh Sophia McCloud

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My ideas are worth exploring
and my creative acts are sacred, worthwhile and valuable.

I answer the call to create
without feeling I am taking away from something or someone.

I know that I have something unique to say and create,
that is only mine to express and so it is original.

Divine Instruction

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 Listening for the divine instruction I sit real quiet on the edge of my thought. Trying not to interrupt the possibility that some holy red thread of wisdom might reach through the… Continue reading

A Prayer for Artists to Our Blessed Lady

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Our Lady, Mother of All Good Things

We artists are a complex weaving

Our beauty and our pain seek us

Through brush and pen

Through hand and foot

Through drum and flute

Through paper and scissor

Through image and word

Through life and death

Through our desire to be self expressed.

While we are at once struck with joy

at sudden inspiration, we are also

sometimes stuck with a strange halting fear

Fear enough to stay the brush

or halt the tambourine.

Is it worth it to make art?

Am I good enough? Can I sell it?

What will others think? Of me, my art?

I should be doing accounting,

become a lawyer, a doctor or politician,

or clean my house after all,

instead of getting myself to studio or notebook.

We all know – poets and artists –

are of no value here…there are mouths to feed!

And so we chatter on in this way

Poisoning our ideas with lack of Faith.

Blessed Lady, You have heard all of our complaints I am sure.

For many thousands of years, and as a form of medicine,

have given yourself, Lady, your own image and heart,

to millions of painters, poets and songwriters to keep them

Going. To keep them company in the dark night.

For this we thank you. For this I thank you beyond measure.

You are the most painted, most sung about Lady in all the world!

Blessed Lady I beseech you on our behalf, on behalf of all artists!

Practicing Peace – A 30 Day Plan for Thriving During Challenging Times

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I send you greetings this bright December 1st! I woke up thinking about you again…

and about what so many of us are going through! What a time we are having right now! Whether our challenges are being too busy, being financially stressed or moving through the kind of blues that seem like it will never end, there is always something we can do to lift the dark clouds. I believe!

One of the hardest parts of going through challenging times is that when in the very midst of it, it has this impermeable quality that seems to echo lies like: “this it is how it is now”,which continues to create the sinking feeling we already have. Or we have been skidding downhill for a while now, and it appears there is still very much more skidding ahead, so, despair comes and pounds on the door of our heart and says things like: ”you have been in denial, you are too optimistic, face it, you are going down.”

We have tried red wine and chocolate and festive gathering with friends. We have even tried making a decision to “shop anyway”. But somehow the old quick fixes aren’t fixing. That is because it is not just us – we know of many who are also challenged right now – and it is not that misery loves company because misery is so morbid, it is because we do not want to feel alone in our dark night depth diving.

Striking A Holy Balance

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Our Lady of Light

shine your brightness this way

illumine us towards loving kindness

give us the peace and courage to continue

when our challenges seem too many

the sensitive ones, who feel the cries of the world

in their bones

feel sick with worry and with wonder

ask the ancient grandmothers to wrap

their shawls about the bony shoulders of our despair

we want to dance and sing and give thanks

and we do. we feel the Saints dancing with us.

but the weight of suffering presses us,

how can we even do the laundry in peace?

or eat steak and potatoes in bliss

when we know the price? as well as all

the stories. how can it be?

A Letter To Grandma – Dia De Las Muertos

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Letting you and Grandma Eden go, is so far, the hardest thing in my life. Since I go to the Orthodox Church now, I finally understand how you got how you were. The sacredness, and the expansiveness. How I wish I had asked you more questions. When I am in church, I feel I am with you – and my family. I feel my roots and I have a sense of understanding about the nature of my own soul as it relates to my blood line. Who knew I would find mother church, after you left. How I wish I could take you to Vespers tonight, I think how happy you would be – even though you left and went to the Protestant Church, I know your heart remained with the church “back home” in Lopez, Pensylvannia – where the church Grandfather Dimitri helped to build, still stands, 100 years later. The icon that was in your room when you died, is mine now and sits on one of my many altars.

Photo 77
Grandma’s Icon

There is also a flower in the book – dried and preserved though I cannot tell what kind. And it is inscribed from your mother, to you and grandpa and dad and uncle. That I get to see Grandmother Mary’s handwriting and know she touched the page, feels a blessing. I believe in particles – in essences – in momentary flahses of light and consciousness that link us to the past – and the present.
Letting you and Grandma Eden go, is so far, the hardest thing in my life. Since I go to the Orthodox Church now, I finally understand how you got how you were. The sacredness, and the expansiveness. How I wish I had asked you more questions. When I am in church, I feel I am with you – and my family. I feel my roots and I have a sense of understanding about the nature of my own soul as it relates to my blood line. Who knew I would find mother church, after you left. How I wish I could take you to Vespers tonight, I think how happy you would be – even though you left and went to the Protestant Church, I know your heart remained with the church “back home” in Lopez, Pensylvannia – where the church Grandfather Dimitri helped to build, still stands, 100 years later. The icon that was in your room when you died, is mine now and sits on one of my many altars.

Photo 77
Grandma’s Icon

There is also a flower in the book – dried and preserved though I cannot tell what kind. And it is inscribed from your mother, to you and grandpa and dad and uncle. That I get to see Grandmother Mary’s handwriting and know she touched the page, feels a blessing. I believe in particles – in essences – in momentary flahses of light and consciousness that link us to the past – and the present.

Letting you and Grandma Eden go, is so far, the hardest thing in my life. Since I go to the Orthodox Church now, I finally understand how you got how you were. The sacredness, and the expansiveness. How I wish I had asked you more questions. When I am in church, I feel I am with you – and my family. I feel my roots and I have a sense of understanding about the nature of my own soul as it relates to my blood line. Who knew I would find mother church, after you left. How I wish I could take you to Vespers tonight, I think how happy you would be – even though you left and went to the Protestant Church, I know your heart remained with the church “back home” in Lopez, Pensylvannia – where the church Grandfather Dimitri helped to build, still stands, 100 years later. The icon that was in your room when you died, is mine now and sits on one of my many altars.