I am moving to a new website at the end of the month.
Probably, most of the blogs on this page will still be recoverable. I am moving some of the most important ones (for me) to the new blog, and starting fresh from there.
If you are on my newsletter list, you will be notified.
To get on that list, see the side bar on my web page now, while it's still there :)
www.jenniferboire.com the address will still be the same.
I am very happy to be starting over, with a new year and a new look. There has been a long period of incubation, and hatching eggs I didn't even know I wanted to hatch.
A few new classes got developed over the summer : Mothering Ouselves and Self-Care was offered through the World of SoulCollage(R) to facilitators. The recorded version is available to members.
Kaleidosoul invited me to offer The Good Girl Archetype to their members, and that went over well.
All that to say, some new offerings are coming - how to give ourselves permission to receive Sacred Rest and restore our creative fire, a retreat I hope to offer live in the fall; and What Wants to be Born in Me has finally started to come out of the chrysalis of development.
More news soon, keep safe, be well
Enjoy the Cocooning time - here's a poem for you to help with the Unbecoming, spiralling inwards.
The Path of Unbecoming
It's okay not to have New Year’s resolutions
It's okay not to have big goals for your life
It's okay not to have plans you want to
It's okay not to chase your dreams
That path is not for everyone
Some walk the path of
They are traveling the road
Seeking the core
What is basic and essential
What has been there all along
Though we may be headed the same direction
Our spirals are mirror opposites
Some walk the path of the visionary
Creating abundance and
Dancing inside a multiplicity of forms
And Some walk the path
of the serpent owl
Becoming more and more naked
Shedding layers of fantasy into the ash
Sitting in the dark
And seeing the way the wind moves
They do not walk a line or
poise their arrow to the target
They sit at the bottom of the ocean
Letting the waves devour them
They are following the pulse
Like a tiger in the brush
Waiting for existence to strike lightening
Into the fire of the heart
For this kind
Nothing less will do
Some are opening the palms of their hands
Less and less
Until they are
To become the still point
In the center of
You know who you are
~ Maya Luna