ascension, life, musings, philosophy, Poetry, rebirth, relationships, spirituality



Are you happy?

We talk about happiness as a destination.

A dream island reached by the alchemy of gold, the nectar of source.

Fuel for the magic transportation of our personal blue flying carpet.

What if there is no happiness.

What if happiness is a shattering flood of heightened dissolution.

An opportunity to seek a destination of emotional status, something that is not of us.

A puppet master of yet another matrix field.

What if there is an opportunity to be the wholeness of experience, in it’s emptiness.

Vast colours sweeping through an internal sea.

Waves as frequency.

You, I, we.


What if we accept all with no label adorned.

A lively, fluid sea of life.

An opportunity to feel how all is the experience.

Can we truly feel as one expression, abandoned impression.

No need for suppression, altered states or digression.

A dream or maybe not so.

Full, grounded, earth shattering reality.

Embodiment as all, in each present presence.

Not a projection of how we wish our lives or each state can be.

An acceptance of life.

As all is life.

So alive.

Infinite creation.


Bec Hart.

ascension, life, musings, philosophy, Poetry, rebirth, relationships, spirituality



Below is a photo of me, my purpose and what I feel I have to say.

I don’t have all the answers I never have, never did, never will.

My words may not match your words nor mean the same so I ask myself, why use words.

What I see as silence, peace, harmony you may see as avoidance, projection and disharmony.

Distractions mistaken as purpose and robotic cycles of inner debt swirling round and round.

Merry go round.

I don’t find it merry.

So many books, so much information yet so much confusion and separation from a natural state of peace.

Is a book a gift of knowledge or a portal to wanting more needing more, being more and knowing less about yourself.

Being more – so overrated.

I’ve found this is doing more and being less.

Our book of wisdom lies within each and every one of us.

Deep within and deeper.


It cannot be manufactured, programmed, processed or copied.

A lively life of stillness.

The embodiment of God.

Our liveliness in the midst of peace.

The presence of no order.

The white of each cell.

Bec Hart.




I have no idea where my life is taking me.
Day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute.
I find this mystery exhilarating, shaky, untouchable yet very grounding in its presence.
The numbness of my love life or lack of.
Or the lively breathing life of vastness that I had not yet discovered as I was seeing it in the olden days and ways.
Words spoken in a different form, pictures joining the dots into a journey.
The signs, synchronicities ravaging my mind as I could not believe in its presentation.
Searching for the thing that already existed.
Fear singing my song.
The fear of not being enough or may be too much playing it’s bitter, sweet song.
The raw, trembling shaky ground shaken by my own very legs as they purge their desires and fears into Mother Earth every time you enter my mind.
I am petrified to have faith in this being real as than I have to admit I’m scared.
I look into my own very eyes, through you, as you in through my minds eye and say to you; Beloved other I am scared yet I am also willing to step into whatever this may or may not be.
I feel I already have been dancing, leaning into your depth and feeling all of you.
I asked to learn about you, I never expected it to take form in the way it has.
A beautiful dance of frustration, fear, longing, purging and presence.
Beauty, rawness and colour.
Captivated by all of you, darkness, light and all inbetween.
As faith takes the lead, I take each breath one step at a time.
I’m here dear one.
I know you see me now.
Here, there, nowhere yet everywhere.
I don’t want an illusion, a fairy tale.
I breath life in, out, through and of all.
We may meet yet maybe we won’t.
Only God knows, as it’s vastness.
Fire and ice.
Do you feel me yet.

Bec Hart.

ascension, life, musings, philosophy, relationships, spirituality



I don’t have an big ambitions, I really don’t.
I sometimes wonder what does this mean.
I see people and truly smile at their wins, ambitions and dreams coming true.
It’s incredible, I love observing a part of their journey from the outside and watching them thrive, it’s truly beautiful.
Is there something lacking that I’m just not interested in playing it big, that I don’t have goals, a plan, a need to seek more.
I just want to have the freedom to do as I desire on a daily basis, to be free.
To live, to love, to play.
To be able to absorb the beauty of all that is and create without a plan, need or goal.
To just sit in the silence or noise and just be.
I feel full inside and I never thought this could be and this is more than enough.
I feel success is who we are, should I need or desire to be more, to have more.
I can’t help but feel maybe I should push myself but I find myself retreating each time I need to commit to something “big.”
I know that I could focus on one thing and create something everlasting.
Maybe one day I will want this but today I don’t.
I see people who have big success outwardly, fame, they’re known and energetically chained.
That’s how I see it, I wouldn’t want this, I imagine it wouldn’t be very liberating and the responsibility must be so vast.
I love simplicity, depth, playfulness, flow.
Today I took the whole day to connect with myself on a deep level, on all levels.
I needed it, really needed it.
I went backwards to move forwards.
To go deeper into my being and into source.
This feels like success.
To me success is the core of who we are.
To be happy in ourselves.
With all or nothing at all.
Through smiles or sadness.
This is enough for me.
Or am I just hiding.
Will I truly ever know.

Bec Hart.

ascension, life, musings, philosophy, Poetry, rebirth, relationships, spirituality, Trauma



I feel the storm brewing alive.
An earthquake.
A volcanic eruption.
Bubbling inside.

This time I won’t run.
This time I won’t hide.
I welcome you.
I call to you.
I’m here.
Arms open wide.

Speak louder.
Show me that wish you wish me to hear.
This time I won’t numb.
This time I don’t fear.

I take a strong coffee.
For the first time in years.
To strengthen your call.
Tell me dear one.
Why are you here?

I cry.
Happy tears.
I can feel.
I can thrive.

Anxiety I accept, all of your call.
I’m here, I am breathing.
No need to survive.
As there’s nowhere to fall.

Bec Hart.

ascension, life, musings, philosophy, rebirth, relationships, spirituality, Uncategorized


“You are my life,” innocently said the parent to their child, looking deep into the child’s eyes filling their cup up in that very moment,

“I love you, you are my life.”

The child grew older, “You are my life” said the boy to the girl.

The boy left the girl and the girl felt like she had lost life.

The girl eventually moved on with life, then the boy chased the girl as he too felt like he had lost life and must seek it back, to find himself.

As time went on the girl now a lady and the boy a man, they went their separate ways.

The man says to his wife,

“I love you, you are my life.”

They have children and they say to their children,

“I love you, you are my life.”

As the children grow they feel they are missing something in life.

They feel they need someone to be their life, so they continue the cycle of giving their life mistaking it for love.

As the children become older and parents become ill, the adult child looks to the parent with the weight of the world held in their stomach. Feeling as they are their life they should be able to save them – be their life.

Can you see the pattern? The family heirloom passed down dressed as a gift of love yet containing chains that bind.

The moral of the story is, we are life.

Life is eternal, infinite.

Nobody can give that which we are.

Whole, complete, living our own lives.

We may be apart (A part) of our children’s, parents, partners lives.

Yet we aren’t there life as we’d be fused, attached and unable to be able to form healthy connections and continue in the push, pull of the dynamic of looking for love outside ourself. Love cannot be gained within another as we are love, just as we are life.

The lady says to her partner, child, friend, “I am my life” and I love that you are yours.

ascension, life, musings, Poetry, rebirth, relationships, spirituality



Break me beautiful,
Glimmers of the sea.
The morning frost as dawn breaks.
Excavate the darkness I can’t see.
The jewels of a cave.
A rare sight for us to speak.
The beauty of fall, copper leaves.
Flowing, Autumn breeze.

Break me beautiful,
In to a million stars.
As dust from Grandmas ashes.
Breathing life, red planet Mars.
A portal to the eye of truth.
An opening of our heart.
The crackling of the icy cage.
Escapes a pounding heart.

Break us beautiful.
For beauty shall be all we see.
From the souls darkest night.
To the birth of a raging sea.
To be all as beauty.
In darkness and in light.
Accepting there are no weaknesses.
All strength, let’s take flight.
Break us all beautiful.
It’s clear for us to see.
Whatever colour, day or scent.
As we look with eyes of truth.
God is all we see.

Bec Hart.