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. 1d ago

    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

    1h 8m

  2. 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

    1h 3m

  3. 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

    31 min

  4. 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

    8 min

  5. 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

    11 min

  6. 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

    13 min

  7. 08/03/2025

    Healing has no Ceiling

    Healing Has No Ceiling One summer when I was about seven, while spending a week with my cousins, I skinned my knee in such a hideous way that I couldn’t even bear to look at it. My Aunt Helen took me into the kitchen, propped me up on the counter, and began to care for the wound. I was terrified and traumatized, but her steady authority and focused care healed a part of me I didn’t even know was hurting. Was it the gentle assurance of her voice, the steady gaze of compassion? All I know is that the moment is still ringing in my cells. I felt like a feral cat that had somehow been adopted, for that moment, by a queen who generously filled my milk bowl with cream, and she touched something far beneath the skin, an ancient thirst. She applied a thick, cooling salve, followed by the largest Band-Aid I had ever seen. My aunt was a nurse, and Band-Aids were her business. In our home, when a wound appeared, we were pretty much on our own. The approach was “brush it off and move along,” or in more serious cases, you got a wad of toilet tissue held under the faucet. Nothing wrong with those rustic modes of healing—it was all I had known, and it worked. But under the careful care of my Aunt Helen, I was immersed in the art of care and learned many lessons from that oversized Band-Aid. First off, I loved it. I didn’t know you could love a Band-Aid, but I did. I loved how it looked, how it felt, and the love it represented. But all good things must end. The day came when the Band-Aid was no longer my friend. It had grown uglier than the wound itself, filled with dirt, lint, and sand—and it was time to pull it off. Again, my aunt was there. She sat beside me as I slowly peeled the edges from my skin, each attempt bringing a wave of pain and fear. “You just have to rip it off fast,” she said gently. “It’ll be less painful.” “I can’t,” I admitted. “Come here,” she said. And as I moved to her side, she reached down. With one clean, powerful gesture, she separated me from the Band-Aid. It was quick and painful, and then it was done. I felt sideswiped. Where had that kind and gentle care gone? Tears welled up in my eyes as we both looked down at the scabbed mess of my knee. “Now it needs air and sunlight,” she said. “Now the real healing begins.” I looked up at her in confusion. No more Band-Aid? But it was so cool, and it had been working so well! “No,” she said. “No more Band-Aid. It needs sunlight and air. Exposure to the elements will do the trick.” Exposure could be healing? I have come to find that her remedies were sound. Each morning during the Miracles Live gatherings, people from all walks of life share experiences, from major traumas to quiet griefs, that they have overcome or are coming through. They have the scars but no longer need the Band-Aid. The wound is now part of the perfection, not something to be hidden or feared. And sometimes, when the wound is fresh and the wounded is brave, something remarkable happens. There is a collective healing: tears, nodding heads, and an outpouring of appreciation. This vulnerability is how we rip the Band-Aid off our shared classrooms. This is how we bravely trust the elements to do their job, and in the witnessing of that strength, we’re reminded that we can handle the whole truth. We can heal together. Transparency is a generous elixir. Maybe not at first, maybe not right away. There are times, stages of healing, when we’ll still need Band-Aids to protect and cover our raw and ravaged vulnerabilities. But protection has an expiration date. Eventually, to fully heal, we must expose the tender parts of our story to light, to air, and to the kindness of mighty companions. This exposure not only heals the one who is wounded, but it also gives the rest of us the courage to remove our own Band-Aids. And in that courage, our compassion grows. So, how old are your Band-Aids? Is it time to let the elements help you? This Sunday, Lisa Natoli is joining us for a healing conversation on fearless love. I hope you will join us. Here is the link to join us LIVE at 10:30 am CT! In the meantime… Love, Maur Lisa Natoli is A Course in Miracles teacher and the creator of online courses on the topics of healing, abundance, awakening, and being aware of the light of your true Self. She came to know directly that the natural state of everyone is a shared, eternal, infinite Being, light, perfect love, timeless. Any difficulties one seems to experience in life come only from living in resistance, identification as a body-self, and being in contraction from our natural eternal state. Any limitations you seem to experience come only from the concepts you hold about yourself in mind. The light of truth dissolves all false beliefs you held about yourself, and the result is peace, joy, ease, and freedom. Her website is https://www.lisanatoli.com If you are unable to make the talk, here is a vintage conversation with Lisa Natoli! 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. 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 min

  8. 07/19/2025

    I Know What You're Thinking.

    Last year in Ireland, on the very first day of a retreat, Kathy Scott of Trailblazey asked a question that made me dig. The theme of the retreat was Homecoming, and it was geared toward fostering a reconnection for the Irish soul, as well as for all the other ways a person might need to come home to themselves. Her question was… "What are the gifts you don't confess to? What are the gifts you're hiding?" I was in a small group of three women, and when it was time to share, we each admitted to the exact same thing. I am intuitive. What an odd and extraordinary moment. It’s one thing to be an alcoholic, and another to step into a room to hear everyone else's confession of what you have held as a secret. There is something inherently holy and helpful about transparency, especially in a world that can feel so warped and well-filtered. After our delightful discovery, we found that we had even more in common. The three of us had always known about our ability to know things. But up until that moment, we had not fully let ourselves be known. And so we sat, quietly. Privately. Sometimes playfully, sometimes reverently, with this secret. Keeping it under the bed or in the back of the closet. And as we all know, things that live under the bed, in the back of the closet, or behind the drapes can take on a spooky glow. This knowing was the kind of knowing that we all had been taught to tuck into our pockets. It was not a safe topic. Unless, as in my case, unless you were drunk. Yes. Back in my drinking days, my friends called me the “psychic drunk.” My party trick was offering enebriated “readings.” Just take that in for a moment—enebriated psychic readings. All I can say is it’s a good thing that I got sober. But that week in Ireland was not drenched in drugs and alcohol; it was a clean, clear confession, and for the first time in my life, the cat was out of the bag. Or should I say, the veil was lifted, the oracle had spoken. My third eye winked. Whatever, you get the idea. Something shifted. I looked at the women who had unburdened themselves, and I thought, of course you’re intuitive, of course. I trusted them, and so I trusted myself, a wee bit more than I had before the trifecta confession. I believe the act of confession is what liberated your true gifts. There was a time over a decade ago when I was invited to a health fair. I informed the organizer that I would offer 10-minute affirmative prayer sessions. I explained to her that it was an intuitive way to open up to the interpretations of a Higher Hand and to place an affirmative blessing on the situation. She was confused about my offering and suggested that I call them “intuitive readings.” For some reason, I didn’t blink an eye. I knew that my prayer sessions were intuitive, I just never labeled them that way. I changed the sign on my booth to read “10-minute Intuitive Readings”, and I set it up as I would for offering affirmative prayers. When my daughter arrived, she smirked at the sign. “Are you intuitive?” I shrugged back. “I am today.” But here’s the thing: in claiming this intuition, in putting it out there, I seemed to have opened a door to greater connections and confidence around my “readings.” Back in Ireland, a new permission was in the room. A new authority. I felt it, this sense that my gifts were no longer just mine to hide. They were meant to be shared and honored. Later that night, I decided to list all the ways my intuition had shown itself to me. This is an exercise I give my clients, based on the idea that what you focus on increases. I was genuinely surprised by all that I had been denying. In the more paranormal sense, I have communicated with pets that have transitioned, not just in mind, but in sight… like the movie The Sixth Sense, I have seen dead people, or at least dead pets, which, as it turns out, are not actually dead. I’ve channeled messages from those who have passed over, which I was not fully prepared for and not’t entirely interested in; it was a bit intense. But in a more gentle and less WooWoo way, my clients and I have benefited from the highly intuitive prompts, interpretations, and awareness of things that I could not have known that I knew, and yet I knew. I did not go to Ireland to retrieve these gifts. Still, acknowledging them in a group of other intuitives felt like an initiation, a calling out, a coming to terms with something that was no longer willing to be ignored, a homecoming. When I came back to the States, it was as if the soil had changed. Something bloomed. My intuitive channel opened wider. And then, after a personal trauma —a moment that cracked me wide open, the gifts amplified. In some ways, you could say, I got out of the way, or I was gotten out of the way. And I began to notice the shift, the sessions I offer, which have always been deeply transformational, began to move with even more specificity, clarity, and precision, like truth on tap. Connections would arrive before I could “think” them. Knowing would flow through me, things I didn’t know I knew, and yet I knew. And it all felt oddly effortless, like someone else was doing my job. Now I understand that back in the day, confessions like this could have gotten me burned at the stake, and in more modern times, subject to an uncomfortable eye roll. This 6th sense is not universally accepted. It might be the reason why it feels like we are still banging rocks together when it comes to our level of communication. As a child, when I explained to my mother that I could still see and interact with our pet dog, Joe, who had been in a fatal car accident, she simply said to me, “No, you can’t.” The truth is, I was a little freak as a kid. I barely had a toe on the earth, and I am sure my mother was ’t looking to encourage my oddball ways. But what was once feared and stigmatized is now being confessed. Let’s face it, the world needs more freaky oddballs. So, although I don’t tread ignorantly out onto this new ice, I do tread, because I have a gut feeling that I am not alone; in fact, I would not be surprised if you, dear reader, might also have a few hidden gifts of your own. If so, leave your declaration in the comments. What is claimed and strengthened. What is denied is weakened. So you choose. If it is any encouragement to you, since that moment in Ireland, my discernment and clarity have amplified, and numerous signs and symbols have marked my life. Spirit always gets Her way. And the more we talk about it, the more we find that what was once feared, shamed, or silenced is now being openly accepted, integrated, and celebrated in brave and beautiful conversations. I believe that we are all intuitive. Some of us just have a harder time hiding it. To continue this conversation, I am thrilled to share that next week at SpeakEasy, we will be hosting Carrine Zupko, author of The Clairs. This book covers how to assess guidance and intuition, specifically directed towards students of the Course in Miracles. In the book, she references a section of The Course: “…each individual has many abilities of which he is unaware. As his awareness increases, he may well develop abilities that seem quite startling to him. Yet nothing he can do can compare even in the slightest with the glorious surprise of remembering Who he is. (ACIM, M-25.1:3-5). If you are interested in learning more, grab the free book on her site and join us next Sunday for the conversation. I have listed her link in the dessert section. I hope you show up, because all healing is mutual. When you begin to accept your gifts and remember who you are, you can be more helpful to others. Since my confession, my own sessions have gone next-level. I have had more clients cry in the last two months than in my entire career, not because of pain, but because of the profound experience of being truly seen. It’s beautiful to behold. So I am excited about these upcoming conversations, both in session and at SpeakEasy. My hope is that they offer you a place to confess a few gifts of your own. If you're feeling called, if you’ve been navigating something heavy, confusing, or tender, or if your soul yearns for some transparency and crystal clear direction, I’m here to support you in awakening to your most impactful, empowered, and intuitive self. Link to book a session. Or if you want to try out a 10-minute affirmative prayer session, AKA intuitive reading… Click here. I promise I will be sober. Till then, enjoy dessert! Dessert! This past week, I was a guest on Lisa Whittingham’s lovely podcast. She just launched it, and her first guest was Sonia Choquette. I started listening right before I was about to post this Substack. The topic is intuition… Go figure, as if we needed another sign. You are going to love this conversation. LINK And don’t forget to grab a FREE copy of Corinne’s book and join us next Sunday at SpeakEasy. LINK to free book. Link to join the conversation. LINK This week at SpeakEasy, we have Todd Fink of the Kind Mind Podcast with a conversation on Causeless Grace. It’s gonna be a good one. LINK Love, Maur Substack is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. And until we meet again. Love, Maur 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

    12 min
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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
    21
  • Rating
    Explicit
  • Copyright
    © Maureen Muldoon
  • Show Website
    Love, Maur