Hellena Post - Creatrix

I've tried on so many uniforms and badges that now I'm just me - mother of 8 children and all that entails, flowmad, and human animal parent. Writer of this living book of a blog, philosopher, and creatrix of hand dyed and spun crocheted wearable art. I gave up polite conversation years ago, and now I dive into the big one's.....birth, sex, great wellness, life, passion, death and rebirth.


Saturday, January 17, 2015

It's Such A Perfect Day

This is the year I'm going to try and get the hang of the short blog post.

It's also the year that I'm diving into the whole concept of the gifting economy, and taking the energy that I'm sick to death of using in trying to work how I can 'get' things, and instead focusing on what I can give, trusting in the self organised flow of life to work out the getting, without me having to worry about it.  

And just today we had about the most perfect kind of a day that I could imagine.

It's going through a hot phase up here in the sub-tropics, and through our lives of little to do with money in a search for authenticity, we've perfected the arts of money free ways of keeping cool.  After spending another rather hot day yesterday mowing lawns and moving round furniture for a dear heart family member, we decided today was the day to spend laying around in the shade, near another heart family members spring fed dam, with a little island in the middle sprouting palm trees. 

The day before yesterday, an old dead Tea Tree that the kids loved to climb on fell down, so Currawong cut it up into firewood sized pieces, and we noticed that the lush hard wood had plenty of likely looking twigs and branches, and decided to try our hands at making crochet hooks and knitting needles.   So day before last we spent crafting hooks and needles and clothes and hair pins out of Tea Tree in the shade, spread out on rugs and cushions, with all our tools and my special tins with beads and crystals and shells, blissing out creating.  Mr B not only made himself a hook, but crocheted a neat necklace as well.  Spiral made a wand, and so did I, Currawong a huge crochet hook and 6 large buttons, and I also made a hook and set of slender knitting needles.  

Yesterday was the kind of soul food, that only giving to a beautiful human with a huge heart can feed, and then today was spent in the early cool continuing crochet hooks, and sanding on our rug and cushion nest, having a splendid visit from a new and deep friend, and then travelling up and over and around our magical mountain, to visit our family's best mate.  He showed us more of the crochet hooks HE'D been making, along with some Huon Pine rings and bracelets he'd crafted, which was the inspiration for us to try our hands at them in the first place, and we had some tucker, swapped some stories, and headed for the dam.

Swimming in a spring fed dam, in the dappled shade, and floating on yer back, looking up at the sky displaying cotton puff clouds, with ears underwater, hearing your own heartbeat, and the organic noises of a busy dam.............would have to be one of the nicest things ever to do on a hot and humid day.   Me and Lilly swam round and round floating gently on the top, while I told her about how much I loved having my ears underwater, listening to my own heartbeat.  And how I first discovered that love, when I was birthing her in my first ever birthing pool.  With my eyes closed, and my ears underwater echoing my heartbeat, I could totally traverse the strong and intense uterine worlds of birthing.  Everything and everyone else disappeared while I was under, and it was just me and my heart.  

The hottest part of the day was spent sitting on a crochet rag rug, with my homemade swag for whichever baby wanted to sleep in the shade, dipping in the dam, floating watching clouds, or carving and sanding the little wood things we were making.  We brought an esky with yumsome food and a few cold homebrews to picnic with, while we chatted about all the things that go on in our days, and our plans for adventures and creations.

We've got this beat up old volvo, that couldn't be registered anymore, so we use it to drive on the private roads between our places, and Currawong and Lilly pulled out a spray can one day and decorated it.  There's a skull and crossbones on the bonnet, and love hearts, and unique Lilly designs, and they dubbed it the 'Ovlov Of Love'.  And driving back home in the ovlov, sun setting behind the trees, and Griff brushing up on his driving skills with Currawong by his side, I remembered something I saw on facebook a while ago.  Something about how a person who has the freedom to choose what they do with their days, is a rich person indeed. 

And I really got how free we are, and encourage our children to be, and how it truly is a rich state of being, that I treasure above just about everything else.

Blessings to the Freedom Seekers.










Tuesday, November 11, 2014

Sex


A while ago I was asked by a friend to write a piece for a book that she was going to create, with letters from all sorts of people, written to a young woman on the cusp of her dawning womanhood and sexuality.  

And this is what I wrote........





As you step up to your sexual life, surrounded by all the messages that have been gifted to you whether you wanted them or not, about men and women and sex, all those fairytales of princes and princesses, and the wishing and hoping that you’ve felt all your life from people around you……

There’s just one thing that I really want you to know.

Your sexuality can change.  Drastically.  And it’s up to you and how deep you’re willing to dive into yourself and your authentic reality, and get to know and love yourself, as to how deep you’ll dive into a sexual relationship.   So many people think that their sexuality is just something they’re born with, and that they have to make the best of what they’ve got, but in my experience, that just isn’t the case.

I bristled into the world of sexuality at 16, with my travelling bags packed with all sorts of other peoples baggage.  The main baggage stowed away in my bags was from my mother.  A fundamentalist Christian, she informed me often that men were rabid beasts, that would rape me at the drop of a hat, ( I must admit that thought kind of excited me with the thrill of danger) and that it was up to me to stay decorus in all occasions, and make sure I didn’t egg them on.  She also told me that using a tampon was like having sex, so not to use them till after I was married.  I was so disappointed when I used my first tampon off in the bush, borrowed from a friends mum, and embarrassedly tried to ‘get it in’. 

In order to get over that, I had to fuck a lot of people.  I also started off the sexual game with absolutely no self esteem or sense of boundaries, so my experiences were a mix of pretty foul and surprisingly sexy to start off with.  Peppered with the odd spray of a delightful and respectful experience with a random man or woman.  I would valiantly attempt to have sex with just about anyone that suggested it.  After an emotionally cold and physically frigid childhood, any attention at all was cause for gratitude in me.  But despite my utmost attempts…….my cunt was clamped shut.  I’ve only ever heard about this condition occurring in old women, and called something to do with walnuts, but I know it’s possible, cause it happened to me.  I had many a man dedicatedly try to enter my centre of sex, and be totally unsuccessful.  They weren’t just half hearted attempts either.  One gentle man even bathed me and massaged me all over, but I was barred to all access.  I travelled round Europe for a year, going home with all sorts of men, some even just rolling round on the grass in the dark in a park, and never managed to have proper sex.  They all came around the general region, but they never penetrated my warm castle. 

Because I was so easy, I was treated as one that you liked to sleep with but not bring home to mother.  It took poetry and cards and flowers from a gentle man with a small penis, to finally enter my barricades.  And then no holds were barred, as I launched out into sexploration. 

I did just about everything.  Men, Women, Threesomes, Orgies, Affairs, One Night Stands, Oral, Anal, Holy Whoring………and I never really felt a thing.  My cunt may have been opened but my heart wasn’t.  Everything was experienced through my head.  It was like my body was numb, and I lived it through my thoughts.  I learnt how to fake orgasms and make like a porn star.  And even more, I learnt how to become an extremely fine lover, so as my lovers were so gone on bliss, that they wouldn’t notice my absence.  Some moments really hit through the gaffa tape wrapped round my body, like the first time I was fisted, and some moments of pure love.  I treasured them close.  But some moments were totally awful, and I experienced rape (by women no less), to heap on top of having body memories of childhood abuse.

Alongside sex, I was unpeeling the wraps of my childhood and cultural clutches, and trying to work out who the hell I really was beyond what I’d been moulded to.  I spent many years undoing things.  My patterns and conditioning.  My need to keep busy.  I tensed myself into relaxing.  I made myself sit and do nothing.  I tried to listen to my instinct buried deep beneath entrenched dogma.  I learnt from everything and everyone around me.  I found treasures in the dark.

And I started to really learn about myself.  About my own way of doing things.  About my heart.  More to the point, I started to really like who I was.  Like how my survival instincts had led me, even when I found it hard to hear them.  Like the stories that made me who I was.

Then I bumped into my soul mate.  Sitting on a barstool, with his blue blue eyes that I fell into, and couldn’t get out of.  We had a long one night fling, and I thought it was all she wrote, but on getting home he haunted me.  Quite a worldy wise sexual professional at that point, he’d been the first to treat me with such utmost respect, chivalry, and acceptance.  I wrote a book inspired by the experience, and then on meeting up again, all the things I’d written had come to pass.  We have an amazing meeting story, but what’s even more important to my point right now, is that our hearts met as well as our sex, and after all of those journeys that I’ve told you about, I went from being a sexually rapacious ice queen, to feeling sex and love and bliss and warmth through my whole soul and  body. 

We fuck like a god and goddess taking a break from their day jobs and moonlighting as porn stars. 

But it wasn’t an easy journey.  It wasn’t all hearts and roses and knights on stallions, and once we met it wasn’t happy ever after.  We both had shitty childhoods we were recovering from, massive trust issues, and dark paths that we’d travelled to get to each other.  We put each other through the wringer, and tested each other over and over, and all the time I thought I’d ‘lowered’ myself to his vibration and was healing him, I was actually letting him heal me equally.  He took 5 years to believe that I really loved him and was going to stay.  I reckon I took about the same. 

We’re noisy and we argue, and we make love and war equally passionately, and most important to both of us……….we have absolutely no secrets from each other.  We tell each other the absolute truth.  After childhoods full of hypocrisy, duplicity, and lies, we’re totally allergic to all of it.  We got into so much trouble before we found each other with the world out there, cause we refused to lie.  To ourselves or anyone else.  No matter how uncomfortable that may have made life around us. 

Right in the beginning, in our torrid and explosive implosion into each other, a woman from my childhood religion came to visit, who’d known me since I was a baby.  And she spent the day with us hearing stories and mutually falling in love.  And right near the end she said, “When you come across those seemingly unsurpassable brick walls in your relationship, the ones that other people say you should just give up on……don’t.  Find some way to get under it, or over it, or around it, or knock it down, cause I guarantee you, that when you get over the other side, the love and trust and gifts that it will bring will be worth it.”

And she was right.

Even though we’ve waited till it was extremely unpopular till we did it, me and my man have been together for over 14 years now, and apart from a few little tests at the beginning, have been completely, lustfully, and explicitly monogamous.  The crystalline and multifaceted glittering creation that we’ve crafted between us and around us, is built from all our tests and trials in the beginning, and our coming togethers, and our fights, and our sexuality, and our births, and the amazing sexual fests that created our babies, and our bodies and the way they smell and look and age, and our complete and total honesty with ourselves and each other, and our growing mutual and self love………and our sex life all these years and babies down the track is simply epic. 

After starting my sexual journey as a maiden novice, clamped and numbed shut, I’ve matured through the mother and sexual phase into a goddess alongside my god.  I thought our sexual climate was pretty rare and fine before we got to this volcanic region of the Northern Rivers, but since coming here, we birthed our seventh baby together that was as my midwife described, ‘The epitome of the sexual birthing divine feminine’, and birthed an ectopic pregnancy together a year and a half later that was equally powerful, and find ourselves in a golden age that just keeps getting better.  I have multiple orgasms and women’s ejaculations and we regularly say to each other ‘wow…..never did that before!’.  Despite realistic expectations, our sex life keeps getting better. 

Your sexual journey as a woman, is a journey, not a destination.  And you can always change it.  Take it from me.  I know.





Wednesday, November 5, 2014

About Bonding......again....


I’ve lived in a house on the edge of an escarpment in the Blue Mountains, where the wind would rush up from the valley, and push the door closed, and whip through your skin to tickle your bones.  Where mist would sit like a waveless ocean in the deep blue valleys, and the cliffs would shine in the sun.

In an old terrace house, with a huge and elegant bedroom, that had a quaint fireplace and balcony, overlooking a busy country street in Bathurst.

In a caravan, on the bend of a river through an Arab horse stud, where I spent all my days looking after horses and riding.

In a student house in Strassbourg with Canadian art students, creating exhibitions in deserted warehouses.

Above a pub in Islington.

In the bottom storey of a massive sandstone manor called Wadi Shaifa, looking over another valley in the Blue Mountains, with massive windows where the moon shone in, and an enchanting park down through the front yard.

In a share house in Lane Cove, with bright lights and a beautifully glittering harbour.

In a witches cottage in Katoomba, set behind the street, where magic seemed to shimmer on the walls, and I painted it cream and crimson as soon as I moved in.

In a two storey cottage on Cliff Drive near the Three Sisters, with an overgrown garden that my girlfriend and I reverently uncovered like archaeologists, in a cute and artfully painted home.

In a stunning three storey tower with floor to ceiling windows, and carved bookshelves, looking out on another valley in the mountains.

In a bluestone mansion, set into a disused sandstone quarry in Stirling, with a spa bath, and paved verandahs, and luxury living.

In a three story rammed earth squat, with wooden balconies, in a country town in Adelaide.

In a disused Uniting Church Camp, where we hung out in a massive Mess Hall with a huge stone fireplace, and I had one of the oldest churches in Adelaide, as my first ever studio.

In a quirky, greek style, 4 brick thick home in the Adelaide Hills, on beautiful land, with massive gum trees, and a sacred spot where three creeks met.  We lived in a meditation studio, and witnessed epic night skies, and one night we even saw a Moonbow.

On a community in the Adelaide Hills in a true hippy home, where all the houses were joined by the roof to stay on one title.  Living on redgum regeneration land on the Meadows creek, and right next door to pristine indigenous bush, and stately pine forests.

In a bizarre little self organized shared household in Mt Barker Springs, where we lived in an unlined shed that I hung with material. With an indoor/outdoor fire pit, that we sat around a lot. 

In a little shack on the side of Mount Donna Buang in Victoria, in breathtaking mountain ash forests.

We’ve slept in a river bed outside Alice Springs, where you can see the Emu in the sky most perfectly.  Red earth and wide skies, and the brilliant aliveness of the desert.

And in and around all of these homes, our deep and abiding hearts home, was our ex army Toyota Commuter van, that I crocheted the seat covers of, and made cargo nets and beds in, and crafted hand made swags for.  In which we drove everywhere, could be ourselves and unobserved more than anywhere else, and had a mobile environment that we took with us everywhere we went, as a permanent sanctuary.  Where we could wake up at any place in the country, and have a cuddle before a strong cup of coffee. 

We’ve lived in two beautiful houses, on the picturesque and diverse community of Billen Cliffs, in Northern NSW. 






And I’ve never loved a home and parcel of land as much as I love it here.




Living here has fit a final piece to a puzzle that I’ve been working on, researching, and personally experimenting with for decades.  That puzzle being the full capacity and breadth and wealth of bonding in it’s extreme.  And through beginning to know the ocean of it…….maybe more to the point learning in the extreme what bonding ISN’T, along the way. 

And to be brutally honest, from my perspective as a bonded lover, mother, crafter, and now home dweller and animal herd……..virtually every facet of western civilization, is more of a lesson on how to unbond, disunite, disconnect, and separate, than any kind of bonding and love leading to community, self organization and empowerment. 

I’ve written so much about bonding over the years, from many perspectives, it’s been an almost obsession in my life and blog.  All the lessons  I’ve learnt from unparalleled honesty and trust, in an intimate and loving releationship, and from my larger amount of birthing experiences than the average bear, have led to very similar whole body learnings about love and bonding.  Those lessons now extend into home, land, and animals – all universes on their own.

Before I started my interior journey through loving Currawong and birthing babies, I thought of bonding as some vague cliché thrown around in ways like ‘male bonding’ and ‘female bonding,’ to do with sports or business.  The most I really heard about it was in nature documentaries and zoo stories around bonding, and farming stories of bonding to other species.  If this kind of inter species bonding and it's potential power interests you, watch this documentary about Animal Odd Couples.

But through living all my different experiences, I’ve learnt how integral bonding really is, in our mammalian journeys, and through our ancestral and evolved consciousnesses.  I believe, through truly living my life and following my own path, I’ve stumbled onto enlightenment through all the stuff that most people like to transcend.  I’ve deeply bonded with my mate, with my children, with my home, with the land around me, and with the animals we share the land with, both domesticated and wild.  I’ve bonded with the world around me, through my focus and unbinding into the bonding of birth, sex and death.

And this is the kind of bonding, love, community and connection that my ancestors went to war for.  Defended their lands with their lives for.  And had many stories and different ways to access the divinity within them, and through them, their land and connections. 

Living as we are presently, in Western Culture, or maybe more accurately, as the most educated Roman Slaves on the planet………..it’s not surprising that virtually all aspects of our society, are about how to disconnect us from each other, to prevent that bonding and community from forming.  From my perspective anyway.

Why is homebirth and homeschooling so roundly and solidly attacked?  Have you ever wondered about that?  Such a tiny minority of people?  Who affect hardly anyone?  With virtually no damage to the average person? Why is homeschooling illegal in virtually every western nation except America and Australia?  And why is homebirthing so intensely vilified?  Could it be, that these very events can potentially create greater bonding, and thereby increase the capacity for community?  Why are the genders set up in war against each other?  Why have sensible wholes been split into dualities that are foolish without each other?  God and Science belong to each other, as a dynamic, cyclic whole.  Home birthing and Hospital birthing the same.  Cultural education and Home education as well.

When you truly look at most indigenous lifestyles in our ancestries, in which we’ve lived in for the majority of our evolution, how did we get here?  Where we send our children off there, to bond with strangers that change regularly, and a bunch of other scared and emotionally undeveloped younglings, to bond with each other?  Behind fences?  And our men off there, to work with other men usually, in work unrelated to their immediate survival, clothing or food.  And our women off elsewhere, be it to groups or services or jobs or home duties, bonding with others in other ways.  And all of this bonding and unbonding of families, is all happening elsewhere, other than our homes.  Our homes have largely become the places we eat and sleep, and nowadays watch screens.  All the important stuff we do is somewhere else.  Our jobs, our passions, our crafts, our trades, all usually happen somewhere other than our homes.  And our relationship to animals has gone from co-dependant relationships that include the land we all live on, working out how to help each other birth, survive, thrive and die with dignity, to a bizarre pet relationship where those without children of their own, or a lack of community love, can translate that bonding instead to a pet, who they love and bond with in the same intensity.  Or we have a complete disregard for any other sentience at all, in the form of factory farming.

We’ve all got a honing instinct as wide as our hearts towards bonding.  And whether it’s with an animal, partner, child, craft, home, land, trade, community, sport, religion, or spirituality, we’ll have it in our lives in some way.  And I’m suggesting that our humanimal potential is to experience bonded love in all those areas.  Or at least a lot more than just one.  If that’s our yen and destiny.  A love to family, home, animals, land, and community, that is bonded and deep, intensely intricate, and eternally interesting.  A love that is as scary as exhilarating, and deep as potentially shattering.  We waft through life with a hundred breathing hearts, connected to our beings with yarns.

And that bonding creates the oxytocic bubbles, that mirror the intense moments of birth, sex, and death, and echo through our existences.  When we connect and truly bond as families, and communities, and at markets and events, we generate a vibration that truly attracts others, hungry for that love and connection.

I’m not sure if there’s a point to all this, except that this is all deeply on my mind and in my heart at the moment.  As we experience awesome bonding with the home where we live.  The animals we live with.  Our journeys together and how attractive they are to the most interesting people.  How through deep bonding to all aspects around us, we’re experiencing self organization on a profound level.  All the aspects we need to continue our bonded and self organized flow together, and around each other, just come.  Without any effort.  The right people and events spill around like pebbles on the creek floor, effortlessly going with the flow or staying put, depending on what’s needed at the time.  Every animal, child, tree or wild animal experience, relates to other things on many different levels.  Taking the steps  towards each other, working out how to mutually benefit from each others existence, rather than harm the co-existant whole. 

Each morning we wake, with a whiff of the potential of just about anything whispering on the wind.  Any person or entity could rock up and we most likely wouldn’t be surprised.  As we sink into our self organized, bonded family, chaotic harmony, a bright buzz whirrs around us.  We’ve got more visitors coming to swing through our realities, than we ever have in our entire relationship.  One tent comes down, and another one goes up!  Things are learnt effortlessly, as valuable mentor relationships spring up all around, our vibrant and authentic children.  So much is packed into our days, that we barely get time to recognize it, before another wild event comes galloping down the road.  So much learning is fast tracked and hacked into, by so many people and lessons on our doorstep. 

We’re learning about each other, and who we really are, and other people, and how they live, and animals, and what they need to thrive, and eat, and how it’s best to be eaten, and personalities, and how deep they root, and the re-spelling of the spells that our great western culture has spelled on our souls.   

And coming across so many other people wanting to travel the same authentic paths.  Into themselves, each other, their homes and land, and other animals.

We live in one of the most diverse communities I’ve ever lived, where the main tenet is respect for every living thing, except for violence or cruelty, which is dealt with in person and directly.  There are so many people with so many philosophies trying so many different ways to live.  So many directives, inspirations, and dreams being striven for.  Nobody really knows how many communities there are in the hills of the Rainbow Region, but there are hundreds, and they’re all different.  I’ve heard tell of communities focused around medieval sword fighting and knightliness, around unschooling, christianity,  womens land, fairy land for men, permaculture, survival anarchy, the desire to share no community at all, solar power, low income earners, activists, and more exotic possibilites of this sort than you could possibly imagine. 

And all these people shop in Nimbin and Lismore, and get together at markets and events, and swap stories and experiences, and I know that it’s a world that could be endlessly explored, and never fully known.  And the experiment is a huge success from everything I’ve seen.  People have learnt compassion and acceptance from their lived experiences. 

It’s fast tracked our family community experience, as a mirror showing it’s face to a world full of mirrors. 

I think the point of all of this is to ask you to jump in.  Wherever you find it, however it moves you, find yourself a community to bond with, with your family if you have one, or if not find a family that needs you.  And dive in!  Experiment!  Realise that the hurts and pains are the equal and opposite on the way to learning how to navigate the stormy waters, leading to the gentle bay of bonded community. 

It’s the only way we’re gonna save ourselves and our planet.  To bond with it and our families and our homes and our lives and care for each other.  Because we’ve recognized our dependance on each other and everything.

Or something like that anyway :)