by Rebecca Cavender | intuition, writing |
At 4:30 this morning, the dogs began barking like there was an intruder. You know the sound: high pitched, angsty, unapologetic. Relentless. There was a hint of an unfamiliar scent, almost reminiscent of skunk, but not quite. As I opened the door to let the...
by Rebecca Cavender | intuition, patterns, vulnerability
The mythopoetic reminds us that we are all on a journey. In a story. And what a story we’re all creating now, together, globally. It’s one of those times that our progeny will hear/read about. We’ll look back to see how we experienced it. The choices we made. Make no...
by Rebecca Cavender | acceptance & inclusion, autism & girls, autism writings, changing life, changing stories, debunking myths, essays, healing, intuition, no cure, no prevention, self esteem, self-love, soul, soul essence |
I’ve always known I’m different. As a young girl, I sought refuge in the forest, talking to trees, creeks, fairies. I lived within a rich world, teeming with imagination so tangible, I could touch it. Taste it. Feel it. Like magic, stories flowed out my fingers into...
by Rebecca Cavender | acceptance, autism & girls, autism writings, changing stories, divine feminine, healing, intuition, self-love, vulnerability |
“Tonight I can write the saddest lines…” Neruda’s sentiments echo through me this evening as I recall my 10 year old daughter’s words: “I don’t think it’s smart to keep being myself. It makes things worse. People say I’m weird, crazy, psycho, strange. I think I have...
by Rebecca Cavender | divine feminine, intuition, letting go, surrender, trust, truth |
The Unknown is a tricky place. It’s full of … well … unknowns. It’s vast and wide open. The structured, tidy World of Certainty feels more comfortable, fixed. A linear path is set-out with clear instructions and all you have to do is follow them so that you get from...
by Rebecca Cavender | healing, intuition, love, relationships, self-love |
Dear Nice Girl: You know who you are. You’re the one who helps the elderly couple struggling to carry their luggage up the stairs. You’re the girl who calls after a truck full of strangers to give them the book that flew out the back. (Maybe it was important to...
