Love, Maur

Stories, Sermons, and Standup from the heart.
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Mystical musings with a splash of irreverence. Lover of A Course in Miracles and storytelling. maureenmuldoon.substack.com

  1. Aug 14

    The Law of the Sea

    I once hitchhiked to Florida and ended up in Upstate New York. I was sixteen and not well-versed in travel. For Christmas, my sister got me a sweatshirt that read, “Florida bound point me South.” It’s a pretty well-documented fact that when you make plans, God laughs. Not a sadistic laugh, more like how your sister laughs as she watches you march confidently in the wrong direction. With a bit of pride in your moxie and a relish for getting front-row seats to your self, you will run riot. Making plans can do more than just make God laugh, It can end you up so far from happy that your look like a crazy person. Many years ago, when I was still preaching from a pulpit in the suburbs of Chicago, I decided to take my kids on the architectural boat tour. It was one of those bitter, bleak, grey days; traffic was terrible, and parking was crazy. But I had my eye on the prize, securing a spot, and with minutes on the clock, I hustled everyone down the street toward the dock. My son Liam was seven years old at the time and hadn’t spent much time in downtown Chicago. As we made our way to the boat, he noticed a man standing on the sidewalk asking for help. “Mom, we have to stop. We have to give that man some money.” “We’ll help him when we get back,” I promised. He wasn’t convinced, but he kept pace with the rest of us. And despite our efforts, we missed the boat. Like the losing team after a grand and noble effort, we solemnly made our way back to the car. Everyone, that is, except Liam. Without warning, he took off running, began weaving around pedestrians, and waving his hands. I did my best to keep up and not lose sight of him, but the kid was on a mission. And then through the crowd I watched him approach the man. And having no money to offer, he handed him the only thing he had. He took off his coat and handed it over to the man. People on the sidewalk began turning toward them. And as they made their way past me, I could hear them saying, “Did you see that?” “That little kid gave the homeless man his coat! ” The man lifted Liam into the air. The two of them eye to eye like a two-headed Lady Liberty. The man was a bit of a giant, towering over the crowd. His eyes sparkled with awe, admiration, and emotion as he held my son in the air. “Is this your boy? The man called out as I made my way to him. “This is a good little man. This here is a good little man!” I arrived with a queer combination of pride and shame. The real sermon that day was how dangerous it is to be destination-oriented. We miss the boat every time. A few weeks ago, history repeated itself. Family was visiting me on Madeline Island. We had gone to the mainland for dinner; in the storytelling and connection, we lost track of time. And even though we attempted to hustle back to the dock, we missed the boat. If you’ve ever been to Madeline Island, you know that the ferry isn’t just transportation. It’s basically the only way home. Many a stranded soul has had to find lodging till morning or sleep in their car. The options are thin. Everyone in our little group had that familiar look. My cousin started apologizing. But the words that came out of my mouth surprised even me. I guess I still remembered the magic that can happen when you miss a boat. “This is where we make memories,” I suggested. The teenagers immediately began walking the docks, asking strangers if anyone might be heading toward the island. Eventually they met a man named Bronte, owner of All Hands on Deck. Without hesitation, Bronte, who was kind of like a well-anchored lost boy who had grown up and learned how to steer the ship, said, “Hop in.” He didn’t quote a price; he didn’t seem put out- just a generous extension of helpfulness. As he ferried us across the water, he told stories, taught the teenagers a little about sailing, and made us all feel as though we’d known him for years. Then he said something that quenched my soul. “This is the law of the sea. If someone is in need, you help them.” I found myself wondering...Why isn’t that also the law of the land? I wish I had met him before I tried to hustle my kids past a person in need all those years ago. When we arrived safely on shore of Madeline, we thanked Brante with as fat a wad of cash as we could cobble. He did okay. But what we got was priceless. Memories of magic and a reminder that the world is filled with very kind people. When I think back to that day in Chicago, I don’t remember the architectural boat tour we never took. I remember a little boy who couldn’t walk past someone who was cold. When I think about missing the ferry, I don’t remember the inconvenience. I remember a sailor who lived by a simple law: If someone is in need, you help them. And I have to say, it’s a beautiful way to live. I’m beginning to suspect that the greatest miracles happen the moment we stop trying to get somewhere and become available to what is happening right here. When we loosen our grip on the itinerary and discover the invitation. When we discover that we have already arrived at the destination. Which is really good, because in a few days, I leave for France to visit the land that Mary Magdalene called home. I’m beginning to realize that I’m not going to France to find something. I’m going to honor something. I’m not expecting Mary Magdalene to whisper some long-lost secret into my ear or unlock a mystery that has been hidden for centuries. I am going to honor her as a lighthouse on my own path as a female spiritual leader. To honor her courage, her devotion, her willingness to stand near suffering when others fled, and her unwavering trust in Love. I want to honor her as a woman who refused to be defined by the stories others told about her. A woman whose true voice endured, even when history tried to rewrite it. When I return, we are kicking off the next round of the Maiden Voyage. A true pilgrimage—a holy journey to the Self. To remember, rewrite, and honor our own stories through the use of the Chakras and archetypal work. If you’ve ever felt like you have missed the boat...If life has laughed at your carefully laid plans...If you are ready to experience the miracles of being in the present. Come join us. You just might discover that the place you thought you were trying to reach has been waiting for you all along. Love, Maur The Maiden Voyage is a journey through your own stories, secrets, triumphs, and truths. To awaken the patterns and power that can sometimes be trapped under old programming. This is where we move beyond myths, misogyny, and misinterpretations, celebrate what has been stigmatized, honor what has been ignored, and speak what has been silenced. Together, we voyage on a seven-month reclamation of the sacred cycles of womanhood: Maiden, Muse, Mogul, Mother, Minister, Mystic, and Monarch. What Awaits You on This Voyage:Weekly Zoom Gatherings—Connect with an extraordinary sisterhood of powerful women.Optional-on-One Mentorship—Personalized guidance from Maureen and Bella Beth and deep partnership accountability.Optional Annual Retreat on Madeline Island—Five sacred days immersed in the elements: walking the labyrinth, hiking, swimming in Mother Superior, nourishing meals, and transformational rituals. Now is the time. Join us. Set sail on the Maiden Voyage. Sign up here for the waitlist to speak with Maureen and embark on your journey. Don’t miss the boat! :-) This Sunday, 10:30 am CT, join us at SpeakEasy for a conversation on Click the button for Zoom information. We are not simply, or only, stressed because life is hard. Life has always been hard. We are also stressed because the rate of change, the uncertainty of the future, and the invasion of technology into the nervous system have exceeded our ability to maintain meaning. The question is not: “Should we reject modern life?” The better question is: “How do we remain soulful, present, loving, and human inside a world that will not stop updating?” And maybe the task is not to become anti-modern. Maybe the task is to become pro-enchantment. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit maureenmuldoon.substack.com/subscribe

  2. Jul 29

    Take Me to the Church of Flesh and Awe

    Entering church as a child was like crossing a threshold into another world. Outside, life was loud. Car doors slammed. Children chased one another across the parking lot. Dogs barked, babies cried, and the whole world bustled with errands and expectations. And then the thick wooden doors would slowly swing shut behind us with the softest sound of pa-ah, as though the church itself had just exhaled. And suddenly, the bright, busy noise of ordinary life disappeared as though God Herself had somehow turned down the volume. The air grew cooler. Denser. And our noses filled with the warm scent of old wood, and incense and melting candle wax. Sunlight filtered through jewel-toned stained glass. As the ordinary quietly surrendered to the extraordinary. We kids drew closer to each other as our mother mirrored for us how to enter church. The very first thing to do was to dip the tiny tips of your fingers into the basin of cold water and bless yourself. We watched as she gently pressed her damp fingertips to her forehead, her heart, and then each of her shoulders as her lips moved in a silent incantation. I can still see her in my mind’s eye, my mother transforming into the other woman. The Church made her show up differently. All her jagged edges, and searching, all her worry was left on the other side of the door. Even her voice, which often felt directive and abrupt, melted into a soft, sacred whisper that somehow fill the sanctuary. We had to squint our eyes in the dim light just to make sure it was still really her. Our mother, our rough-and-tumble pancake-flipping, hyena-laughing, table-slapping mother, touched this holy water to her head and suddenly transformed. And from this unorthodox, uncanonized saint radiated a tender reverence as she turned to her eight scrappy ducklings and invited us, "Bless yourself." If that water had that power to change my mother, what could it mean for the rest of us? Us? The rule breakers, the nose pickers? My older sisters who taught me curse words on the front stoop? My younger brother who got caught chewing gum off the sidewalk! And defended such hideous actions with the eye-bulging statement that we would repeat to this day. “It was just sitting there, and nobody wanted it!” We heathens, we harlots were welcomed to dip our dirty fingernails into this blessed elixir? Had our mother gone mad? To trust us with such sacred waters? Lesson 187 of A Course in Miracles says: “I bless the world because I bless myself.” One of the deepest pains we inflict on one another is spiritual superiority and exclusion. One of the deepest pains we inflict on ourselves is believing that anyone has the authority to judge our spiritual viability. I think the man said it best when He suggested that we should “put down our rocks and go home.” A radical teaching with an unnerving equalizer embedded in it. Placing us not in the position to judge but in the position to offer Grace. And as easy as it sounds. Grace is sometimes hard to give. And yet it appears that giving is the only way out. The lesson goes on to say: “Protect all things you value by giving them away.” It doesn’t specify who to give them to. It simply says to give them away. Be like the sun, let your kindness extend to all things. It definitely does not suggest withholding them from anyone. But it does say where to start with the blessing. Before you bless anyone, bless yourself. “For you cannot give what you do not have.” So bless yourself and then let the fragrance of your soul spread throughout humanity. Let it touch everything you encounter. Don’t be stingy with your love. And for the love of God, do not assume you that you have the authority to judge another person’s worthiness. The world, your family, friends, neighbors, your enemies/master teachers will constantly evaluate your spiritual worthiness. They’ll tell you what you should believe, how you should pray, and where you supposedly belong on some imaginary spiritual hierarchy. Forget about it. Forgive it all and remember A flower has its own gospel. A bird has its own gospel. A Buddhist has a gospel. An atheist has a gospel. Even an enemy has a gospel if you take the time to really listen. We are not here to judge any of it. You are here to know your own gospel. Not the one that is in discord with another. But the one that is in harmony with everything. That’s what this lesson is saying. “I bless the world because I bless myself.” Know your own truth. Bless that truth. Let it be anchored in your moral compass and expressed through love. The ego wants us to verify our truth against the world. But the world is fickle A.F. There was a time when people believed smoking was good for you. Black people were intellectually inferior to white people. Indigenous peoples were “savages” who needed civilization. Women were naturally less rational than men. There was a time when women could not be trusted with a credit card. People with disabilities were less valuable or incapable of meaningful lives. This was a universally held belief. Gay people were mentally ill. Mentally ill? Homosexuality was classified as a psychiatric disorder in the American diagnostic system until 1973. What the fresh hell? We humans are prone to producing towers of Babel and fill them with the dogma of babble, pure, uncut nonsense that creates blocks where there could be bridges. And divided we fall. The remedy is simple. Ask: What would love have me do? And then do that and only that. It is hard? Sure, but I believe in you. You can do it. I can do it. Alls it takes is a little willingness. If God has called you good, and beautiful, and holy. Maybe we shouldn’t argue and maybe just attempt to live up to it. Can you imagine that you’re that loved? Can you imagine that at your inception, God wept in awe? The same way She wept at the redwood trees and the rain and the peonies. The same way your own mother held you in her gaze with such awe that she left the phone ringing, and the toast burning and she forgot all about brushing her own teeth and gossiping with the neighbors. That is how cherished you are. Our only task is to accept that love, and then let it guide you like a North star. But first we must bless ourself. Because we can not give what we do not have. If we carry guilt, or shame, or blame for ourself or another. We won’t be able to do it. We have to leave all of that at the door. Come into the sanctuary. Come into the sweet sanctuary of inclusion. If you don’t find it in a traditional church, go to the forest or the river or the mountains, but wherever you go, be it ashram, or synagogue, sea side or stable be sure the doors of your heart remain unlocked. Because in the end you’re the church, you’re the steeple, your open heart can love all the people. If you bless yourself. And bless yourself. And bless yourself. And never chew gum off the sidewalk. You deserve so much better than that. Love, Maur This is the beautiful old church that I had the honor of preach at for nearly a decade. I thought it was as good as it could get. And then after Covid, we moved to the elegant inclusive real estate of Zoom where all are welcomed. And somehow, it just got better. Invitations This Sunday, August 2nd, we are doing something a little different at Speakeasy. We will be covering the content of Lesson 214 of A Course in Miracles, I place the future in the Hands of God. Together we will discuss, discover, apply and embody, in real time. If you are not familiar with the lesson, here is a video of my own mad ramble. But the idea is to hear what you have to say. That is what SpeakEasy is all about. Join us on Zoom for the community conversation. More Miracles? If you want a peek into what it would be like to wake up to Miracles every day, check out a Free Week of Morning Miracles at Miracles LIVE 365. Come wake up with us! Don’t Miss the Voyage! The Maiden Voyage is a journey through your own stories, secrets, triumphs, and truths. Through the understanding of achetypal work we awaken to the patterns and power that can sometimes be trapped under old programming. This is where we move beyond myths, misogyny, and misinterpretations, celebrate what has been stigmatized, honor what has been ignored, and speak what has been silenced. Together, we voyage on a seven-month reclamation of the sacred cycles of womanhood: Maiden, Muse, Mogul, Mother, Minister, Mystic, and Monarch. What Awaits You on This Voyage:Weekly Zoom Gatherings—Connect with an extraordinary sisterhood of powerful women.Optional-on-One Mentorship—Personalized guidance from Maureen and Bella Beth and deep partnership accountability.Optional Annual Retreat on Madeline Island—Five sacred days immersed in the elements: walking the labyrinth, hiking, swimming in Mother Superior, nourishing meals, and transformational rituals. Now is the time. Are you ready to reclaim your voice, wisdom, and divine power? Join us. Set sail on the Maiden Voyage. Sign up here for the waitlist, to speak with Maureen and embark on your journey. Don’t miss the boat! :-) More Maur? Find me here. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit maureenmuldoon.substack.com/subscribe

  3. Jun 13

    The Maiden Voyage

    Hi friends, It’s been a minute. I’ve been a little off my game, and honestly, there was a stretch where I wasn’t even on the field. In early April, someone I love found themselves in a situation that sent me on a crazy quest through a system I had no map for, no mentors for, and only a sliver of faith that I would find my way through. If this were the Hero’s Journey, this chapter would be the Supreme Ordeal, that moment in the story where things look so bleak that you would put your money on the hero not making it. Day after day, I felt like I was wrestling with a sticky Rubik’s Cube, trying to find the one shift, the one turn, the one move that would help solve the problem. I know that’s vague, but it isn’t entirely my story to tell, so bear with me. What I can tell you is that there were tears, fears, and prayers. There were moments when my faith felt thin. There were days when the weight of it all threatened to pull me into the fetal position on the bathroom floor. And yet, in the darkest moments, I discovered something beautiful. I had a community that carried me. Friends who checked in. People who prayed. People who showed up. People who reminded me that I wasn’t alone when I couldn’t always remember it for myself. And as insane as it might sound, I was still creating, still writing, still playing the piano and singing. The combination of all of that gave me a bit of solid ground. I know I am not the only one struggling these days. Sometimes it feels like the hits just keep coming. Life can feel relentless. So thank you for sticking with me during what turned into an unexpected Substack sabbatical. The issue that took me out was, strangely, suddenly, and miraculously resolved, and someday I may even write a book about it. The ordeal happened while life was in full session: a trip to New York, Ireland with Billie, back to Chicago to produce a couple of shows, and now, after a season that felt like it contained three years’ worth of living, I am finally back home on Madeline Island. Keeping things simple. Finding my footing again. Playing piano, feeding hummingbirds, taking long solo walks with my weighted vest, working in the community garden, and singing. I’ll be performing a handful of gigs this summer. It’s funny that the idea of singing a solo show of my original music would have once seemed impossible, too scary to imagine. But I guess after you face some real lions, the things that once seemed frightening somehow become the easy stuff. I welcome it. One other celebration, on June 8th, I celebrated 10 years of sobriety. This is my second ten; here’s to seeing what is beyond this milestone one day at a time. I am extremely grateful to live between the two big blue books of AA and ACIM. I don’t even want to imagine what a hot mess I would be without them. Tomorrow at SpeakEasy, we continue The Maiden Voyage as we venture into the realm of the Muse. We’ll explore creativity, courage, possibility, and what it means to run toward the roar rather than away from it. Yep, I will be speaking from experience. But this is all universal and relatable because we are all brought to our knees. We will all be asked to face fears. There is a saying: Run toward the roar. It sounds like crazy advice, but sometimes there is no other choice. The Muse is not born when life is easy. She arrives when life knocks you flat on your back and leaves you wondering how you’re going to make it through another day. She looks down at you and says, “Look at you. You’re still breathing. Cool. Let’s go create something.” And if you are wise, you will follow her. As long as you have breath, you can create something beautiful. You might think there is another choice. Trust me, there isn’t. At least not one worthy of your last breath. When life roars, it could be your cue to just roar back. Or if you can’t muster a roar, try singing. Hope to see you tomorrow for the full conversation. Love, Maur Love, Maur Substack is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. SpeakEasy Spiritual Community honors all paths and is anchored in the teachings of A Course in Miracles and the Divine Feminine. We meet virtually on Sunday at 10:30 am CT and feature a community conversation that invites us to speak easily about spiritual principles and practice. Please don’t leave your brains, beliefs, or background at the door. We don’t have all the answers, but we love the questions. Join us live at SpeakEasy Spiritual Community to add your voice to the conversation. Love, Maur Substack is a reader-supported publication. Subscribe and gain access to our weekly Live Virtual Story Salon for writing accountability and support. If you have thoughts to share, I would love to hear from you. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit maureenmuldoon.substack.com/subscribe

  4. Apr 30

    HOME

    I’m getting ready to wander from the known structures of time and responsibility, going off grid for a few days in the unscheduled flow of wanderlust. I am going to Ireland. Headed there for my daughter Billie’s Maiden Voyage to the Motherland, this time I go with the passport of a native, the visa of one who has returned, clinging tight to the souvenir I have acquired from the adventure of chasing dual citizenship. This tiny booklet is a symbol that I have untangled the knots and restored the umbilical cord to my ancestors. I return with the shifty, shy gaze of a stepchild, or a long-lost relative, waving a notification from 23andMe, “I belong to you, and I’m hoping someone will retrieve me from the bus stop.” But of course, it’s not all that desperate and dire; we’ve rented a car, so we should be fine. It’s interesting to go away to come home. And stranger still to be homesick for a place you’ve never lived. Am I programmed for melancholy, or is this an echo of generational healing? I think of Ireland as my spiritual home; it holds a sense of sacred magic, like entering an old church. I find a calm settling, both mysterious and yet certain, not easily identifiable, and yet I know it by heart. And my body agrees, responding in a way that feels like stepping into the ocean, “Oh yes, hello, it’s you again.” And then there comes a baptism, a swell of ancient rites, ritual, and reverence, and suddenly I am home. Of course, this shift does not need to be sought through pilgrimage; it can be found in a cup of tea, a chance encounter, a labyrinth, or a lover. Not so much something we go to, but rather an awakening, an awareness of what we come from. This is not some stumbling into Grace, not a happy accident; we encounter awareness because we have made the space to remember that we are precious, sacred beings in need of rest, respite, and soul food. This is the truth that gets silenced by the screaming world. And so my invite, my friend, is to find your way home. We were not built for the firehouse of stimuli. We are designed to go at the pace of peace, to listen to the rain, take the slow path, shoot the breeze, and surrender to the plan of fate and favor that is not our own. It can sound passive, but it is not. In the surrender, there is bristle and brilliance. Fresh learning invites us to the awe and reverence that this life deserves. This moment is so palpable, so all-encompassing, so restorative, like being held safe in the mother’s lap or the lover’s arms. Your breath catches and expands, Your voice softens. Your eyes begin to see again. Clarity comes, striving goes, and a trust in an intelligence that provides all and asks nothing begins to seem strangely trustworthy. And you are home I have witnessed this type of arrival happen day after day in our community, MiraclesLIVE365, and no matter how many times I see it, it never gets old. It’s a constant loop of sunrises, each one more breathtaking than the last. Friends come carrying the weight of grief or grievance, struggling with an unseen splinter in their paws. And then we meet, tucking our chins, bowing our heads, and begin again to surrender the meaning and arrive at the moment. It’s not always a sweet melting; sometimes it’s a street fight, to surrender to heal to forgive to return home. But we get there. We cross the threshold, sometimes with just a breath, that takes us in, and the baggage, the burden, seems to be transformed, translated into something holy, or forgotten. It’s a miracle. And like raindrops illuminate the spiderweb, we see the connection between us. The commonalities that help us to drop the facade and just be, another sacred drop on the web of life. The soul returns, remembers, and responds to the radiant rhythm of breath and being. The body relaxes, and in the absence of proving and striving, we come home, again and again, to the journey without distance from the head to the heart. What matters is not your place or position; what matters is your presence and your willingness to be present in the ever-flowing, shifting stream of life. I hope you find your way there, I hope you find you are here, I hope we all find our way home. Love, Maur EVENTS Check out the talk in the header, and if you want more, click the link below to get the Zoom link and a reminder text. At SpeakEasy, easy is our last name. I am thrilled about this Mother’s Day series and the awesome line-up of speakers! If you are looking to awaken your Voice, Value, and Visibility, this is for you. SpeakEasy Spiritual Community honors all paths and is anchored in the teachings of A Course in Miracles and the Divine Feminine. We meet virtually on Sunday at 10:30 am CT and feature a community conversation that invites us to speak easily about spiritual principles and practice. Please don’t leave your brains, beliefs, or background at the door. We don’t have all the answers, but we love the questions. Join us live at SpeakEasy Spiritual Community to add your voice to the conversation. Love, Maur Substack is a reader-supported publication. Subscribe and gain access to our weekly Live Virtual Story Salon for writing accountability and support. If you have thoughts to share, I would love to hear from you. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit maureenmuldoon.substack.com/subscribe

  5. Apr 22

    Underneath It All

    Underneath It All The Tower or the Altar: Build it up or lay it down. A reflection on the Tower of Babel, the Binding of Isaac, and the shift from seeking to surrender. What looks separate… isn’t. In meditation, a forest revealed something simple and profound:trees may appear to stand alone, but beneath the surface they are connected—root to root, life to life, sustained by an unseen network. this is us. We move through the world as if we are separate—defining, comparing, protecting what is “mine.” But underneath it all, we are already joined. What we call separation is learned, practiced, reinforced. In A Course in Miracles, this forgetting takes the form of special relationships—where we exclude, judge, and attempt to control. In contrast, holy relationships remind us that nothing real can be threatened, and no one is outside of love. The story of the Tower of Babel is not just ancient—it is alive in us now. Every time we decide who belongs and who does not, every time we confuse righteousness with judgment, we add another brick to the tower. We build identities that separate us, even as we claim to be seeking God. But there is another way. In the story of the Binding of Isaac, we are invited into something quieter and more courageous: surrender. Not sacrifice, but trust. The willingness to release what we think we must hold onto in order to be okay. Because what we are afraid to lose… has already become an idol. And yet, when placed in God’s hands, nothing real is taken—only the fear dissolves. This is the movement from tower to altar.From building to releasing.From fear to trust. And as that shift happens, something else begins to fall away:the idea of “other.” We no longer need to defend who we are, or exclude who someone else is. Difference is no longer a threat—it becomes an invitation to expand love beyond our comfort zone. Lesson 263 offers a gentle correction: “My holy vision sees all things as pure.” Not because the world has changed, but because we are willing to see differently. So the question becomes:What are we building?And what are we willing to lay down? Because the way home is not something we construct—it is something we remember. Underneath it all…we are already one. Key Takeaways: Separation is learned, not real Striving builds walls; surrender reveals connection What we fear losing often becomes an idol Love expands when we release the idea of “other” This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit maureenmuldoon.substack.com/subscribe

  6. 11/01/2025

    Fluent in Darkness

    Up on Madeline Island, darker days have settled in. The town has grown quiet, the water cold. Summer folks have flown off with the geese to sunnier shores, leaving the rest of us to navigate the dark. I was once among them. But this time, this year, I wait and witness as the light bows out early. In the remote solitude of Island life, traffic lights are replaced with stop signs, pulsing neons give way to the soft glow of lanterns, and darkness arrives honestly. It takes hold of the cabin, cuddling it in a black velvet-gloved embrace, until I can’t see my own hand an inch from my face, which is mesmerizing and feels less like absence and more like arrival. I am here. Here, where blaring search lights and sirens are replaced with subtle starlight and silence. I watch in wonder, realizing that I can be comfortable in the dark, no longer afraid but oddly intrigued, and apparently prepared for it. Earlier this year, I found myself reading book after book, such as Learning to Walk in the Dark by Barbara Brown Taylor and Waking Up to the Dark by Clark Strand. I had no idea why I was gobbling up these volumes designed to romance the dark. But I know that many of these books didn’t just ask us to make peace with the dark, but to enter it —walk in it, alone. As I thumbed through the pages, I had no idea at the time that they were welcoming me into an initiation that I would have never chosen for myself. In a dark time, the eye begins to see.-Theodore Roethke I don’t think I need to confess my bias toward brilliance and brightness. I’ve been taught to fear the darkness. I have romanced, regaled, and relished the light. Fire it up, friends, court your brilliance, chase off the shadows, and shine, shine, shine, sis-star! It seems that this overamplification of light’s value has blinded me to my own dualistic allegiances. And so it’s time that I forgive my fears and make peace with the full spectrum of humanity. To welcome darkness not as void, but as a fertile field of possibilities. A classroom, a teacher, and an opportunity to own and honor all aspects of myself, the waxing and waning. Love, Maur Substack is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. In the cold, dark, stillness of these northern nights, I am discovering that I need darkness as much as I need dawn. My soul has been craving this. And as a sunny optimist, a seven on the enneagram, as a card-carrying rose-colored glasses, self-identified “silver lining factory,” I am honestly unerved by the depth of darkness and the rich love affair I have forsaken for sunnier sermons and high-vibe brilliance. I guess what I am saying is, I am ready to dance in the dark. “Someone I loved once gave me a box full of darkness. It took me years to understand that this, too, was a gift.” -Mary Oliver: My sunrise spirituality and breezy barefoot blessings have been effectively honored and celebrated. But now the darkness calls, and it will not be denied. It whispers of richness: of warm mugs of spiced dark chocolate, red velvet and incense, warm, worn leather… candlelight. And even now, as I write, I see how I am attempting to romance the darkness, to wrap and rebrand the bare bones of winter —the chill of shadows — as some glorious cashmere-grey mist settling over the woods. It just may be, but I hope you can spot the Ever Ready Bunny of Sunshine, so determined to avoid the darkness. Although these textures are sensual, and tangibly and decadent, do not be distracted, dear reader. Beneath the warmth of velvet, the richness of candlelight, they point to something deeper: the winter of the soul, the cold, dark, damp cave of hibernation, the solitude, the silence. And I, a people person through and through, find myself trying to convince myself that I am not afraid of the dark. I mean, I am not… I am really not. But then again, I am also not very fluent in it. And so I watch as grey skies turn black and deliver a generous sprinkling of stars who brilliantly dance and delight this audience of one, and I make myself stand in the darkness. And I find that it’s not a hiding place, but is a womb. It is not just the absence of light, but a beautiful mystery. Some things can only be seen in the dark. And so my task is to venture into the shorter days and solitude, not because the dark is comfortable, but because it offers me a sense of the sacred that I could not have secured for myself on sunny shores. And although I still favor them, I am entertaining the sacred in me that has always known how to find its way through the dark. The darker the night, the more brilliant the light appears. “I wish I could show you when you are lonely or in darkness the astonishing light of your own being.” -Hafiz I hope to find that, share it with you, and invite you into your own sacred darkness. So join me tomorrow at SpeakEasy Spiritual Community as we contemplate the full spectrum of darkness and light — the laser, the lantern, and the sun — and explore how we might navigate the continual waxing and waning of illumination within and around us. “Perhaps the light can only be found by those who have learned to love the dark.” — Barbara Brown Taylor May our love grow bolder in the darker days and darker times; may our love grow so bold that it outshines the sun. LOVE, Maur PS: Enjoy dessert. EVENTS SpeakEasy Spiritual Community honors all paths and is anchored in the teachings of A Course in Miracles and the Divine Feminine. We meet virtually on Sunday at 10:30 am CT and feature a community conversation that invites us to speak easily about spiritual principles and practice. Please don’t leave your brains, beliefs, or background at the door. We don’t have all the answers, but we love the questions. DESSERT A little spoof on daylight savings. I mean saving. It’s not plural! Join our virtual weekly Story Salon and get accountability and support on your writing. Love, Maur Substack is a reader-supported publication. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit maureenmuldoon.substack.com/subscribe

  7. 10/16/2025

    Dancing with Your Muse

    This week in The Artist’s Way at SpeakEasy, we’re invited to connect with our Muse and create a piece of artwork that celebrates the Muse. The invitation makes my heart flutter. I’ve been digging through the remnants of my past as we prepare for our move to Madeline Island. Closing up a home that has held my family and me for the past fifteen years is no small thing. I’m swimming through an ocean of emotions, gratefully anchored each day by what always seems like the perfect lessons from A Course in Miracles during this time. Lesson 288, Let me forget my brother’s past today. Lesson 289, The past is over. It can touch me not. Lesson 290 My present happiness is all I see. Oh, if this could be true, how gentle my path would be. But with every photo I pack, with every item and piece of artwork, I’m pulled into the stories of my past. This has been a home of stories and self-expression, where I wrote and published three books, created a one-person play, started a church, and launched a program that teaches and coaches people from around the world to embody the spiritual principles of A Course in Miracles. This is the home that birthed a dozen retreats, where I led women to sacred spaces. It’s the home that helped host The Maiden Voyage, a program guiding women on their internal journey of self-realization. So much has been stirred up and stored within the walls of this home, from the depths of addiction to the breathtaking betrayals, to the serenading of singers, sisters, and brothers, and the echoes of a trillion miracles upon miracles upon miracles. If you know, you know. This house has generously held it all, with barely a creak or a word of condemnation. This has been the home of the Muse. Finding the Muse is a bit like finding “a God of your own understanding,” but softer, more playful. Maybe she arrives as a fiery angel with paint on her wings, or a gentle grandmother tending a fire and humming you courage. Maybe she’s the boldest, brightest version of you, the part that sings out loud and speaks the truth without edit or apology. Maybe she’s the fearless, shameless, blameless, unedited, sexy, sacred siren who calls you to the sacred truth and to play, and shows you that these things are not mutually exclusive. However she appears, remember this: she is fun. She is frivolous. And she absolutely has your back. So, get to know her. This week, Jerome Imhoff, our fearless leader in The Artist’s Way group, invites us to take this connection a step further and create a piece of art inspired by your Muse. Paint her, sculpt her, collage her, write her a letter, use Canva or canvas, as I did in the image above. Let yourself have fun. How novel. And bring her essence into form. As Course students and teachers, we know that God is the Creator, and we are created in Its likeness. Child of God, you were created to create the good, the beautiful and the holy. - A Course in Miracles In The Maiden Voyage, A Spiritual Odyssey Through the Archetypes of the Feminine Soul, we journey through the archetypes as a creative and spiritual awakening, celebrating the Maiden, Muse, Mogul, Mother, Minister, Mystic, Monarch. Side Note: For those interested, The Maiden Voyage officially launches this January with a virtual and in-person monthly gathering for coaching, creativity, and soul care, culminating in an in-person celebration on July 22nd. Mark your calendars! More info. to follow. As for me, I have been so devoted to the Muse that I have often been mistaken for one. This has never been my goal. I am not a genie in a bottle, and I try not to be a shadow artist, a term coined by Julia Cameron, author of The Artist’s Way. No, dear reader, I am not interested in being the choreographer of your best moves; I am just a dancer, devoted to being led by my Divine, my own internal Muse, this lifelong companion who has swept me into adventures and sweetly seduced from me products, programs, and prayers beyond my own authorship. This internal guide makes it easy for me to step from the knowing and lean into the mystery, the trusted compass that gives me the gumption to pull the thread on all the tapestries I have woven, so that I can begin again, in a new chapter, in a new home, in a new way that will surely be an even more blessed and beautiful version of all the stories I once held so dear. Because God never steps backward. And so it is into the Mystery we go, when we go with the Muse, the miracle worker. She only asks us to give up two things: forget the past and forget the future. Stay here, in this present moment of conception, so that you can be guided and beguiled by her magnificent brilliance and beauty. Come, empty yourself, and surrender to inspiration, the Spirit that dwells within. Now is the time, dear reader, to reacquaint yourself with your own innate power. Now is the time to entertain your Muse. She does not come to the fearful or the controlling. She lives in the present and arrives to the one who celebrates the light on leaves, the wind in branches, and dreams in the desert, where all seems lost, and yet, and yet, look about you, look up, be willing, and you will not be able to ignore the single star that still shines for you. And when you lay your thirsty eyes upon this light, let it seduce from you a wish, a foolish, frivolous, childlike wish. Then wait, and watch with willingness. If I know anything about the Muse, and I do, I know that she comes to those who smile at the fire, for they know about the phoenix. The ones who gather bones from the graveyard and build themselves a throne. The ones willing to hear the rhythm of a new song, and the courageous ones who decide to sing along, even if they don’t yet know all the words. Whether you’re walking this path with our Artist’s Way group or simply following along from afar, I invite you to pause this week. Consider your Muse and create something, anything, that honors your God-given creative nature. The Muse is always waiting, ready to play, to guide, to remind you that art is sacred, joyful, and human. One final note: my place of home is shifting, but my love remains the same. I am always easy to connect with via the aforementioned Creative Virtual classes and conversations. The Muse in me is percolating with exciting ways to connect and collaborate in the future, and I can’t wait to share it all with you. And remember, if you want to meet up in person every week, swap stories, and work on your writing, subscribe to the Substack, and you’ll receive the Zoom information. It’s a great place to dance with the Muse. Thank you to all who have come to this home, and to those who took up residence here. We have had the privilege of hosting many friends in transition. Thank you to all who brought your music and musings to our table over the years, who planted our gardens, and broke bread with us. As I close up this home, this chapter, I look forward to connecting with you wherever and whenever that may happen. Because home is not a location. I think my kids sang it best: Home is wherever I am with you. You can find their wonderful rendition of the song in the dessert section. In the meantime… Love,Maur Love, Maur And now, enjoy DESSERT! I would love to hear from you! And if you'd like to connect, pitch a story for Voice Box, have me on your podcast, just have a chat, reach out here. For free resources and community connections, visit our calendar of events, click on any item of interest, and it will direct you to a registration form. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit maureenmuldoon.substack.com/subscribe

  8. 09/19/2025

    All The Way To The Ocean

    My spiritual well-being cocktail is made up of three simple syrups: forgiveness, focus, and friendship. Forgive the fears, focus on the love, and find some good friends to walk the path home. Dr. Tererai Trent has been one such friend. Years ago, I was invited to attend the final filming of the Oprah Show. With visions of finding a car under my seat, I headed off to the show with my friend America, and that is where I was gifted something even more valuable. The episode was “Oprah’s top guests.” That’s where I heard the story of a girl from rural Zimbabwe who dreamed of coming to America, going to school, becoming a doctor, and returning home to serve her community. Because she was not allowed to attend school, she secretly taught herself to read and write by doing her brothers’ homework. The local teacher pleaded with her father to let her attend school, but to no avail. By eighteen, she was married with three children and trapped in an abusive relationship, until she met Jo Luck (a perfect name for the moment). Jo, then president of Heifer International, had come to Zimbabwe to stir hope and healing. After hearing the girl's dreams, she leaned in and assured the young woman that it was all possible. That small vote of encouragement became the fuel for the young woman, who would become Dr. Tererai Trent, to reach every last seemingly impossible dream. She would go on to share with the world the idea of Tinnogana, which means it is achievable. Side note, I did not get a car, but Oprah did gift us all a free Tinogona T-shirts, modeled here by my son. But I actually got so much more than a T-shirt. After the show, I took an action. I reached out to Dr. Tereria, and to my surprise, she wrote back. We became friends, and eventually, she joined me as an honored guest speaker at SpeakEasy. Later, she would also write the foreword to my first book, Giant Love Song. Foreward To Giant Love Song by Dr. Tererai Trent I met Maureen Muldoon while on my book tour with The Awakened Woman. She made it known that we would be friends. Thankfully, I felt the same way or I may have needed a restraining order. It’s interesting when you cross paths with a soul sister from across the globe and discover how similar our journeys, how universal our struggles, and how kindred our spirits. It’s beautiful to see that when we walk the good walk, life carves for us a path that is not meant to break us, but to wake us, and it peoples that path with helpful hands. We rise and awaken not just for ourselves but we do this for the betterment of all. This does not mean that the journey will be easy, but we will be guaranteed that our willingness will leave a legacy for those who still struggle. This has been my own life’s work, and it is also the theme woven so beautifully into Giant Love Song. Beneath every brokenhearted story is a love song, a lesson, or a blessing. These experiences are an invitation to find our most authentic and helpful voices. We are each responsible for delivering our stories and finding our own truths. My grandmther used to remind me of the importance of owning a voice that matches our dreams: “Until the female lion becomes the historian of her OWN story, the tale of the hunt will always glorify the hunter.” In Giant Love Song, Maureen Muldoon has become her own historian. She has found and honors the voice of resistance, the voice of fear, the voice of willingness, and finally, the voice of resurrection. No matter what our stories are, we must all learn to rise. Enjoy the journey through this giant love song and allow it to crack you open. Find that place, that open wound. Travel to your tender spots and let them inform you. Be willing to wait and listen. It is in these universal classrooms of love and losses that we will find our redemption and healing. We become more awakened. The deeper truth of our universal potential lies within the heart of the individual. However, it does not hurt to have some mighty companions along the journey. If you are looking to be reminded that we are each an essential and Divine thread in love’s tapestry, this book is for you. May it help you hear and honor your own giant love songs. —Dr. Tererai Trent Dr. Tereria and I had our dreams supported by both consistency and community. Community and consistency are love and law. Or what I call Deep River and Big Ocean. You can’t get to the Big Ocean without going through the Deep River. Deep river means consistency. It is the daily recommitment, the willingness to stay the course, to work the scales over and over, to hold to the dream, and to keep fresh your high resolve. Our daily thought patterns dictate our outcomes. Malcolm Gladwell popularized the idea that it takes 10,000 hours to go from ordinary to mastery. He pointed to the Beatles and Bill Gates, not as flukes of luck, but as masters of consistency. The difference between those who dream and those who deliver is often determined by how well you stay steady through the storms. Because life will get distracting, the river of our consistency will splinter into puddles. We’ll lose focus, gumption, courage, and faith. And that is when community plays a part. Community is one of the most significant predictors of resilience, focus, and long-term fulfillment. Birds of a feather flock together. The idea of social contagion in behavioral science shows that habits, good or bad, spread through communities. When your “flock” is committed to dreaming big, it’s easier to stay awake to your own calling. Community is the fertile ground where our callings take root and become more than just private dreams. Viktor Frankl, in Man’s Search for Meaning, taught that meaning is not found in isolation but in how we relate to others and to something bigger than ourselves. Or as my friend Barb said on our morning call, “When it comes to recovery, the people are the healing.” Alcoholics Anonymous rests on both these pillars: the people are the love, and the program is the law. And the people can make all the difference. It’s so affirming to see another artist sell a painting, a fellow life coach raise their session rate, or a sister musician take the mic and crush a song. In the same way, it’s devastating to see a fellow alcoholic go out or another writer receive a rejection letter. But doing it together is always better than going it alone. A Course in Miracles honors these pillars, too. The workbook holds 365 meditative lessons, one for each day. The lessons ask us to work with the specifics of our special relationships. Theory gives us the truth, and application brings that truth to life. For the past thirteen years, I’ve woken up to miracles thanks to Miracles LIVE 365, our daily A Course in Miracles calls. It’s not just a deep river, it’s a love-fest of friends. And honestly, when I attempted to go it alone, I did not get too far. They say, “If you want to go fast, go alone. If you want to go far, go together.” Personally, I prefer the long, slow path in the company of friends. Nothing can be loved at speed. -Michael Leunig This is also why The Artist’s Way works. The three handwritten pages each morning are the law, paired with the artist date, the love that fills the well and replenishes the soul. Honor these two pillars, and nothing can keep you from reaching the Big Ocean. If consistency is king, community is queen. That’s why we created SpeakEasy, a spiritual community where dreamers, seekers, and believers gather to go deeper together. Whether it’s through Miracles LIVE 365, The Artist’s Way groups, our weekly 12-step gatherings, or the other cool conversations and events that fill our calendar. SpeakEasy is designed to help people stay the course, hold to the vision, and keep rowing down the river that flows toward your ocean. So here’s your next step: Jump in the water. Pick one practice. Join one circle. Take one step toward consistency and community, one step toward your Big Ocean. * Join us for a free week of Miracles LIVE 365 * Sit in on our weekly 12-Step to Miracles meeting * Or walk with us through The Artist’s Way this October on Zoom And for writers, when you subscribe to this newsletter, you get access to our weekly online writers’ group, Story Salon. A simple but powerful way to stay consistent, keep your words flowing, and feel supported by a community that believes in your voice. Because the truth is: you don’t need to wait for someday. You don’t need to be perfect. You just need to show up. I could say that I went to the Oprah show and all I got was a losey T-shirt, but the truth is I got so much more, because I took one step. I reached out to that little girl with the big dream, I held tight to her example, and I got to the big ocean, and I want to take you there, too. Tinogona! It is achievable. Love, Maur BOOK LINKS: LINK for Giant Love Song by Maureen Muldoon LINK for The Awakened Women by Dr. Tereria Trent ✨ Thank you for walking this path with me. If you feel called, share this with someone who needs a reminder that their dreams are still alive. EVENTS Remember the words of Saint Francis of Assisi: where there is hatred, let me bring love. Contemplating this can reveal deeper insights to assist in reprogramming our psychological reflexes.  A person is never only their opinion, and every opinion has a half-life. Opinions are like clouds - only appearing to be permanent at a glance. Pay more attention and one can perceive the numerous forces continuously reshaping it.  Every profile picture is a doorway to an infinite interior, even for that individual. I go on uncovering and peeling layers around myself in pursuit of self-knowledge.  Our task—especially in seasons of heat—is to refuse the fixation of the single facet. To meet any neighbor as more than a position is moral hygiene. When we restore dimensions, we restore possibility: the chance that a disagreement can

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About

Mystical musings with a splash of irreverence. Lover of A Course in Miracles and storytelling. maureenmuldoon.substack.com

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  • Creator
    Stories, Sermons, and Standup from the heart.
  • Years Active
    2024 - 2026
  • Episodes
    23
  • Rating
    Explicit
  • Copyright
    © Maureen Muldoon
  • Show Website
    Love, Maur