Barefoot Wild Woman

22/07/2025

"Everywhere"

11/06/2025

the Fine Art of Not Suffering

A grace often thought reserved for the wealthy—
like clean sheets or fresh fruit in winter.
But suffering is an equal opportunist.
It seeps through broken windows and gilded gates alike.
It does not check credit scores or lineage.

Yes, the poor suffer aloud,
in empty cupboards and worn soles.
But the rich suffer in silence,
behind glass smiles and curated lives.

To learn the art of not suffering—
is not to escape pain,
but to refuse to be owned by it.
It is the quiet rebellion of stillness
in a world screaming for more.

It is breath.
Presence.
Self-forgiveness.
The sacred act of asking:
What if I do not let this break me?

Not every ache demands a crown.
Not every wound must be worn as proof.

We carry so much that is not ours—
ancestral grief, cultural guilt,
generational silence.

The fine art of not suffering
is learning to set it down.
Not to pretend it never was—
but to say: Here. No more.

And then walk forward—barefoot, maybe.
But lighter.

11/06/2025

16/02/2025

20/01/2024

I believe in Soul Moments with another Human Being so completely Divine that they capture a piece of your heart, and light up a bit of your Soul.
Someone who takes your breath away. If only for a moment. Someone you never forget.

Photo By Barefoot Wild Woman: The Hall of Mirrors at Mehrangarh Fort in Jodhpur India. A small room used for Private Devotion

2023

19/01/2024

As a single footstep will not make a path on the earth, so a single thought will not make a pathway in the mind. To make a deep physical path, we walk again and again. To make a deep mental path, we must think over and over the kind of thoughts we wish to dominate our lives.

Henry David Thoreau

03/12/2023

I have climbed some gnarly fu***ng mountains.

I have run and crawled barefoot and naked under a December full moon searching for my own drumming heartbeat.
To be reminded I was alive, to be reminded of my wild.

To remember that I knew how to survive, and to remember where I really came from, and how I've never been afraid to fight a Bear.

I have clawed and bitten and I have been forced to know that I could kill a man, with my own bare hands, I have also learned I was strong enough to stop myself.

I've sat with 13 wailing women, and I have laid myself broken from weeping at the foot of a giant Willow that continued to weep for us all.

I met a Medicine Woman who shared with me her Tea.

She gently played a song from the heavens as I took my first sips.

I sat with the great Mother and I have placed gifts before her feet in Gratitude.

Barefoot Wild Woman