Melissa Rose Boisclair

Plato, The Allegory of the Cave. I've read some essays on it. I skimmed others. I heard accounts of it in person, but I never read it myself. I was hesitant to write anything about it because, frankly, I haven't read the book and it might be hard for me if I tried. I can, however, sparknote it. It was described basically how I remembered of it back when it was first explained to me. For those who don't want to read it I'll debrief you. Imagine a group of people bound to the floor of a cave. Their heads are rendered immovable so that all they can see is what appears on the wall straight ahead. Behind them is a fire, and behind the fire is a partial wall. On top of the wall are various statues that are manipulated by another group of people who are lying out of sight. The people bound in the cave see these shadows and are given no choice but to understand them as reality or truth. Now one day one of these people have their bonds removed. They look around the cave

Whenever I sit down to write I ask for my heart to speak. More often then not my mind goes blank and the words stop flowing. When this happens I ask myself, "are there so many walls built up that I myself can't see what lies on the other side? Or is it that the heart has no word, and only feels. It simply is?" As human beings, our lives blanketed in rules. The laws of the universe, and our divided nations. The rules imposed on us by others, and the rules we impose on ourselves. "Don't swim to far or you'll drown." "Go to school or you wont get a job." "Don't eat meat." "There's only one God." "Life is suffering." "Live in the moment." "Eat organic." "Simplicity is the only way to enlightnement." Once, as I walked to work, I had a thought. I imagined the first monk who reached enlightenment laughed and laughed and laughed. Because they realize they didn't have t

Sometimes I sit down ready to write, but I don't know what to say.  Life is a story book. I say this a lot. My sister gave me an engraved pen one year, and on the box she had them write, "Life is nothing but a story book existence, just a chapter of the completed whole."  I people watch. There's times where I'm astounded by the graceful power of the saga their living. I wonder if they can see it to. What story are they living? Is it a grand adventure of loss and victory or a black and white love reel? Are they a hero who had it all and lost it, or one who never had anything to loose? For that matter, what character am I? Who am I in my neighbor's story? The villain? The wiedro? The girl next door?  What story am I writing? We're all writing our story. A story that's changing every second of every day. There's a part of us who takes all the choices we make and all the people we encounter, and constructs an ending, a next step, ano

I suppose I've always been what people know as a spiritual person. However, my journey started with Wicca back in middle school, and branching out into a sisterhood in early High school. It wasn't until after I went my separate way from these life changing friends, that I started to be drawn more into the world of Shamans. Upon moving to MA, I came to learn about these Shaman journeys that happened once a month. It starts with a guided chakra meditation, followed by a group drumming, and settles down into a drum guided journey.  I went once before tonight, and while that journey was really, very wonderful, I feel like I need to share this one in particular.  The meditation started in my sacred space, which is a clearing in the woods with a pool at it's center in a perfect circle. Now when you travel a little ways down hill, (following a river from that pool,) you come to the top of a waterfall, and forest as far as the eye can see bellow you. (My castle is in the distan

We're a society predicated on fast-paced movement and instant gratification. Given this mind state I can understand why many people have had a resistance to the law of attraction, which is based more on ease and allowing rather than tension and action. If we're not doing something, every second, every day, then we're not moving forward. And if we're not moving forward, we feel like we're falling backward or just not getting to where we want to be. The thing is, we're trying to run up a land slide, and the harder we fight against it, the more the rubble slips out from under out feet. I've been reading a book by Esther and Jerry Hicks called the Astonishing power of your Emotions . In this book, they use and analogy I'd like to share now. Think of the yourself as being in a canoe on a fast moving river, and this river represents the stream of life, the source energy that has been around since before we came into physical existence. Many people put thei

I'm not a very dedicated blogger. I'm not even a very dedicated author it seems. Yet here I am, typing away with my heart in my words and my dreams in a clear cloud over my head. I suppose that's dedication in a way. I couldn't think of anything to write for new years. Maybe because I was thinking too much instead of doing. (The usual state of my mentality.) Even still, sitting at this computer, (I almost wrote typewriter) I haven't the faintest idea of what to write. Another long monolog about overcoming the hardships of my past and current mentality? I spend too much time in the past and waist so many hours of the day looking at these dusty old shadows, leaning and re-learning the lessons from every conceivable angle. I guess it's time to look ahead at the person I'm becoming and the things I will achieve. My life is a story book, and in stories nothing of reward happens without a conflict. I think It's time I stopped living like the hero in a bo