What are the opening hours?

Monday 11:30am - 7pm Tuesday 11:30am - 5pm Wednesday 11:30am - 7pm Thursday 11:30am - 5pm Friday 11:30am - 5pm Saturday 10:30pm - 5pm

http://www.byroncounselling.com/

Byron Counselling, 2 Eugenia Street, Mullumbimby (2026)

09/05/2018

Creation Story

In the beginning
A lustful god,
Yearned for a perfect lover,
And she arose,
From the vast, still, deep
Of his infinite mind.

She flew out from him.
Immediately,
Made love to him.
An ecstatic explosive dance.

Gorging on voidal stillness,
Her ecstasies set spinning
Both tiny atoms
And galactic whirls.

Writhing in orgastic freedom.
She birthed cosmos after cosmos.
A multitude of worlds,
In delirious spawning rhythm.

Lost in dark mothering,
Her lover forgotten,
Fretting children ignored.
She is rapt, discovering,
Endless new forms.

As her vast body
Arches, stretches
Weaves and turns,
She challenges infinity,
To expand.
To make space
For her rampant, outward,
Spiraling dance.

Undulating wheeling,
In endless gestures
Of erupting bliss.
Exploding, singing,
In reverent motion.
Lunging, delighted,
Into forever.

Now the father God
Feels his infinite love
And alone has been composing,
Songs of adoration,
For his consort's infinite brood.

He is singing to them all,
This multitude of forms,
Singing deep inside them,
Every arising complexity.
Calling them home,
Gently home.
Calling even you.

For he misses his many children
And just as he sang
For your fiery mother
He is singing you up too.

He charms your attention,
Away from the mesmeric pulse,
Of her world birthing rhythm.
And as you yield,
The way is bestowed,
To ignore her dark light,

To wake you from your dreams
Mesmerised,
By her delightful
And dangerous moods.
And her endless ecstasies.
For your wild and dreamy Mother
Cares not for your cries.

Stop now,
Humbly listen,
Your Father is calling.
From far within,
As your crusty, fragile heart
Trembles and cracks open
Tenderness escapes
That warms and melts
The inside of your skin,

A luminous Heart,
Outshines your perceptions,
Leaving you naked,
In the vastness of space.

Like a burglar entering
A vacated house
He plunders the contents
Of your transparent form.

To reveal a Father's love,
In-out, everywhere
Released into the vast,
Dreamless silence,

Freed now,
You can marvel
At your Mother's careless beauty
Overlook her unpredictable ways,

Forgive the pain of your birth
And the burning lies
Generations held
Through aeons of separation,

Your relief will resound
Throughout creation,
It is the only way
You'll ever be noticed by Her.

Now mother-life shivers,
Laughing, she turns towards you,
Singing with pleasure,
At her children's gnosis.

From engorged breasts,
That sway in her constant dance,
She sprays milky bliss,
Over-filling your mouth agape.

You swoon drunk.
Seeing now only Love,
In all the forms
Of her mysterious dance.

So ending forever,
The thirst of time.
And ushering in
A life of service.

Kieran Patrick Riordan

04/05/2018

In the noisesome city,
Traffic perfumes the morning.
A lone tree grows,
Dreaming of an ancient woodland.

It's frail silhouette
Interrupts the paving,
Amidst the shadows,
Of concrete and steel,

It's branches stained,
With carbon grime.
It's forest vision ,
An aching benediction,
To all who pass.

A truck rumbles by.
This tree shivers,
In the hot rush.
Whilst a child is paused,
Beholding this leafy wonder.
Her heart hears
It's whispered yearning.

Under centuries
Of build upon build,
Her perfect feet,
Then catch the tremble,
Of our planet's pulse.

This moment,
This moment,
A miracle is seeded
In her unfettered heart.
And will be carried forward,
In the line she will bear.

In the squared-off concrete,
Walling the urban skyline
She pauses in wonder
And smells an old forest floor.

Amidst the cities'
machining thrum.
One child feels the magic,
Of all-is-possible,
And rests in an ancient glade.

Kieran Patrick Riordan
www.kieranriordan.com

29/04/2018

Life as we know it

Not merely
Fruit of the womb.
We were gathered
Into our mothers
From the atoms
Of the earth.

Improbable planet
Ancient stardust.
Caught in the spell
Of gravity's attraction.

Not just conceived.
We arose into life
From the ritual dance
Of molecules
Remembering
What billions of years
Have taught them.

This body and birth
Was not planned.
All histories' code
Wove the fabric of our form.

Yet we were carried
With our mother's love
Who sang to us
With acquiescing joy,

We're drawn into being,
Part of the vast song
Of universal creation.

In our passing away,
This wonder-field,
Creates anew.

A woman's body
Is not mere parts.
She is inhabited wholeness!

Her compassion
And her heat,
Is all of her.

A cello resonates as one.
Plucked and stroked
With presence and skill,

Here a masterpiece
Is given freedom
To sing out into space.

A man's form
Is an instrument
Of his will.

He,
Can catch the rhythm
And tempo of creation's song,
Then his actions
Bring him honour,
And the peace
His heart craves.

If not serving a greater Life,
He is led on,
In discordant searches.
Grasping for symbols
And substitutes,
For the power
And the glory,
In the world surrounding,
But ever-eluding him.

Tending well
Our beloved mate,
And community,
We pay homage
To the earth
That bore us.

We are ushered kindly
To a sure inner temple,
Discovering there,
A liberating purpose:

Protecting this home
Walking our purpose,
With a passion.

Kieran Patrick Riordan
www.valleyspirit.com.au

29/04/2018

The Warrior Turns for Home

Alert and still he stood,
Quick, fit and ready,
Shouldered arms with a sigh,
Hands strong and steady.

His final duty over,
A shiver through him rising,
“It’s time” the wind whispers,
"Home" his heart reprising.

His commander salutes him off,
With eyes of misted steel,
Comrades nod a silent parting,
No word of how they feel.

Steadily, away he walks,
Camp breaks in the valley,
Glancing back memories stir,
As ranks wheel and rally.

Peace settles on him oddly,
Knowing he’ll fight no more,
An aching grief haunts his heart,
Released from the inner store.

Horrors seem to seek him out,
Walking free from duties’ cage,
Dead foes and mates arise to share,
A grim and ugly stage.

Savage guilt that he’s survived,
Attacking him at will,
A rising urge to end it all,
The quick and mercy kill.

Away from the numbing art,
Uncoiling from the violence.
Home holds no peace at all,
But for weapons’ silence.

Awkward, this curious pause,
His iron will impeded,
Homebound march, hardest yet
Steely purpose receded.

Tightly sprung perception,
Bones wearied to the core,
Half-remembered happy songs,
Behind heart’s frozen door.

Days and nights he travels,
Making fast the distance,
Furious feet pound the earth,
With grinding blind insistence.

Even far, is not far enough,
From the screams in the mud,
As if he'd be called again,
For the ballet of the blood.

An inner battle rages fast
A great weariness overtaking
He halts in rising giddiness
Head drumming, limbs shaking.

Ancient battle cries echo,
Body and breath are reeling,
Stumbles, forced to stop,
A cloying dark appealing.

Laying sudden, roughly down,
Awkwardly, the earth embraced,
Sighs heavy as slumber comes,
Relieved a world’s erased.

She:

Inward pulled and quickly deep,
Unravels a larger sphere,
A brightened space far afield,
Adrift and at last, no fear.

In great relief as canvas vast,
Responds to his yearning plea,
Gentled bright strangely quiet,
This vision gifted he:

Haloed, she approached him,
Entranced he stood and gazed,
Presence softened the very air,
Pierced his heart amazed.

The earth warmed beneath him,
The sky soared above,
Gracefully, she closed on him,
Transfixed and lost to love.

Questions melt before they form,
His feet rooted in place,
Quivered as she touched his arm,
Drank deep a soaring grace.

He heard a noise at his feet,
Glancing, the source he sought,
Shield and sword, lying there,
Dropped without a thought.

His eyes could not leave her,
So fascinated was he,
He swayed unsteady on his feet,
Then dropped on bended knee.

Tenderly she helped him shed,
His armour dent and worn,
Lightening a weight of ages,
That wrapped a tough scarred form.

She took a hand atremble,
Stripped him like a child,
And led him to the river,
To bath in waters mild.

Bowing humble upon the shore,
She began a hymn of joy,
He lay tearful in the flow,
A bright-eyed little boy.

A swirling current thrummed within,
Stirring essence from his depths,
Flowing upward through his flesh,
And out to skies’ vast breadth.

Rippling through and through,
The darkened images he’d kept,
Until out from the core of him,
Countless horrors freely wept.

Flying out relentlessly,
At last what's left was free,
And joined with life surrounding,
Wind whispered in the trees.

Home:

Awakening from this transport,
Face still wet from weeping,
Fixed with wonder at this vision,
A gift forever keeping.

Setting forth towards his home,
Light in heart and stride,
Mind and sight unburdened,
His knotted soul untied.

The town arose in the morning mist,
As he crested the final rise,
Joyful tears, unbidden brimmed,
From grateful, tired eyes.

Later greets a familiar throng,
Grief, tender and transparent,
Depth of peace outshone all tears,
Resolve and calm apparent.

‘He looks much older than his days’
Said one he’d known from birth
‘Yet in his eyes there shines a light
More ancient than the earth.’

Epilogue

Now years have past
And the grandchildren play,
Dark memories still arise
Of what he'll never say.

A sense of grief lingers
At his heart does tear,
His family never knows of this
The lingering nightmares.

He's made a rough peace
With why he has survived.
He's tried in his own way,
His family somehow thrived.

Back when Gods and generals
Had him at their command.
There was a blinded public
Free from bloody demands

How back then he'd been judged,
Acting upon his honour,
Yet now he's forgiven all,
Except his personal horror.

Now his bones rankle sore,
He sits more than stands.
His tired body and ageing mind,
Not at his command.

He never forgot his journey home
The gifted vision in his youth.
Wondrous light in his dark night
Transmitting vivid truth.

His dreams have grown softer,
And he hears her again call,
Clearer now, she gently beckons,
'Come to the feasting hall'

Looking forward to reunion
With ones wars have murdered,
Whilst those around him, only hear
An old man's jumbled murmurs.

Finally his time has come
Family gather round
One's he'd loved as well he could,
Feel a peace profound.

Called to rise one more time,
A lasting laboured breath,
His cloudy eyes grow tender still,
Shining holy with his death.

Kieran Patrick Riordan

Written to honour those whose humanity and compassion is mortally wounded as a consequence of armed and domestic conflict.

29/04/2018

Karma to Dharma in Relationship

There comes a time
We find connection divine,
Freed of burdens past.
We meet a soul
Who's living is whole,
Shining their light at last.

Within this frame
Life's intricate game,
Proceeds with grace and ease.
The dance of the two,
Such connection true,
Resentments they release.

This uncommon blessing,
Greater good addressing,
A light combined shines bright.
Their purposes refined,
Life's burdens sublimed.
Whilst creative sparks ignite.

Angels give praise,
Ancestor's voice raise,
Ancient calls for healing.
All bonding in sorrow,
Sad hope for tomorrow,
Falls away in brightness of being.

Now we relate,
And as in Heaven create,
As heart and will align.
Learning through pleasure,
In the mirror's treasure,
Surrender to spirit entwined.

Kieran Patrick Riordan

www.valleyspirit.com.au

26/04/2018

Our atoms store all creation's code
Within their impossible metrics.
They sing out to each other constantly
Across the vast reaches of creation.
An intimacy more local,
Than the sharpest point of a needle.

A community at One.
A brotherhood of mass.
Singularity without idea.
Love's predimensional ocean.
Complete.
Even before this grand display
Of outflung cosmic form.

There are data waves
Within our atoms
That always remember
The universal self
As just now.
The proto cosmic nuclei
Pre-expansion.

Our atoms are alive
To the bright history,
Of swirling coalescing,
Star-birthing clouds.
Of massing particles,
Formed out of promordial gases.
And the emergence
Of our local galactic self.

Our atoms recorded
The accumulating dust cloud.
It's mass attracting ring,
That emerged as our earth.

There embedded,
Encoded in our atoms dance,
Lie the tender memories
Of this planets childhood.
Of the first complex molecules
Their genius adaptations
And multi-layered hierarchies.
Their interplay with super heating
Massive pressure
Steam, sulphur and water.
Freeze and radiation.

They well recall
The potentialities unleashed
Within evolutionary highways.
These expressions of form
The art of natural tendency
Emerging, repeated, combining
Their script derived,
From qualities innate.
The greater order emerging.

In our atoms remembering,
They retrace vast emptiness,
And the recent play,
Of local gravity.
They each shine
In luminous vast emptiness,
Within the companionship of mass.
And whisper us thinkers,
Songs of home
Each instant of our brief lives.

Their dance was choreographed
Long before.
And tireless,
They have danced ever since.
Spell bound,
In creation's epic song cycle.
They dance now,
Accumulated as your body.
A pinnacle of complexity.
Evolution's sculptural glory.

In awe,
Of our component units.
In the wonder,
At the fact of being.
This character
Catches heaven's tune.
And yielding to original grace,
Is simply, transparently, whole.

Kieran Patrick Riordan

www.valleyspirit.com.au

26/04/2018

Our gentlest deconstruction
Is overseen by love.
Accepting this, we see:
The best idea
Is no single idea
Is a great idea
To rely on.

Recognizing terror's delusion,
Cutting anchor chains
To familiar mind-holds.
An awakened innocence,
And fierce discernment
Shine in unthought freedom.

Walking this forward
Into life's chaos,
With pain and purpose
Willingly met,
Clear thinking is born,
Inseperable from action.

Kieran Patrick Riordan

www.kieranriordan.com

Photo of my dog Lulu

26/04/2018

Through this place
Of local sensing
The infinite looks through
A perceptual pinhole
Within the bubble
Of time-space

We are tiny beings
Graced by the gaze-stream
Of our eternal Source.
Illumined by a soft brilliance
Simple vessels
Of the broader Light

Kieran Patrick Riordan

09/04/2018

What the Full Moon Saw

She receives the kiss of the sun.
Reflecting his glorious passion-fire
In her swollen glow.
And shares her cyclic moods
With all the histories
This upheaving world,
Has revealed to her.

She has danced in our moods
Over countless generations.
Shined serene and powerful,
As multitudes of upturned animal faces,
Vented their chorussing spirits.

Birds have sung to her fullness,
With false hope for the dawn.
She casts shadows upon the snow,
Where wolves howl,
In the joy of the hunt.

She has illuminated spawning corals,
And whale song-dance cycles.
Guided mammoth herds,
Over vast icy-blue steppes.

She traced a silent arc
Through the darkened void,
Whilst sons and husbands
Lay bleeding,
On the battlefield,
Whispering hoarse goodbyes
To their beloveds.
Hoping for a quick end,
And reunion in the afterlife.

She has lit the faces,
Of the condemned,
On their final night.
Pleading desperately to be spared.
Begging mercy
From implaccable fate.

Still lovers drink her in.
Doubly drunk with her light
Upon their passionate play
She inspired their fervour
And impossible promises.
Buoyed upon her timeless light.
Leaping laughing,
Into the unknown.

She is the sacred ornament
Of the sea
Comfort to mariners,
Far from home.

And presides over their tragedies
As ocean priestess,
Performing last rites.
And cool witness,
To ill-fated seafarers.

Our moon has glowed
In mournful, icy illumination,
For the abandoned,
The cheated, the stricken.

She is a lantern,
In the darkened vault of heaven.
Soft companion in frigid nights.
Comfort for wayfarers.
And solitary witness
To the fates of lost explorers.

She has been an artist,
Etching triumph,
On the fortunate faces
Of returners and victors.

And shone mocking,
Stark and pitiless,
For the beloveds
Of the war-slaughtered,
Howling mad with grief,
Under her soft light.

Familiar face for strangers,
Traversing forbidden landscapes.
A comfort and counsel
For the homeless,
The stateless.
Those forced away from home,
By savagery or greed.

For the unknown,
The isolated,
The uncounted,
Unimportant and disposessed.
She offers unjudging welcome,
At her warming celestial hearth.

She gently annoints us,
In all the tender human passages.
Our urgent birthing, growth and decline.
She has lit our love and pain
The substance and shadow,
Of all worldly fates,
Hinting of eternity beyond.

She rests not at all.
Pulling tides across oceans.
She has set a rhythm
In the life of our planet,
Inspiring Nature's countless dances.
Gifting us all with her faithful cycle.

She draws a rhythmic flux,
Upon the vortex of our hearts.
Yet makes no enemies.
None that do not trust her.
No-one can say she is not constant.
Even in her disappearances.

How empty the dark hours,
Without her warming glance.
How endless the nights,
When she's blazing above.

Her mood will be etched
Upon your last sleep on earth.
In her perfect timing,
She'll call you gently,
To wake from your dreaming.

Kieran Patrick Riordan
www.kieranriordan.com

20/03/2018

You'll not realize love
In soul searching,
Purification,
Good deeds or disciplines.
You'll find it at seeking's end.
Acquiescing to simplicity.

Every single part of you,
Is scintillating soul essence.
Fashioned out of love,
By infinitely dimensional Being.

Your body with its senses,
Has no superior derivative,
There is no essence,
No reduction,
More holy than your embodiment!

Young or old,
Let the mystery that made you,
Reveal itself ecstatic
As your present form,
Accepts the load
Of pain, purpose and path.

No longer providing a living,
For middle men and priests,
Seducers and dream sellers,
You release them also,
From their bind.

They will at last,
Find the grace they need,
Walking steady,
Upon the mountain
Of the ordinary.

Kieran Patrick Riordan
www.kieranriordan.com

My beloved step-father in the garden, feeling the joy (2016)

09/03/2018

You are born with a particular gift.
It is a source of incomparable joy,
And an obligation:
To take it as far as you can.

Throw yourself in the deep!
Trust everything will be OK.
You do not have to be sure
What your gift is.

The uniqueness of you,
A singular happening,
A one-time flowering.
Your life is a gift,
From God to herself.

Believe in yourself,
Without any plan,
And you transcend your fears.
Inviting Universal presence,
To actively manifest in your life.

You offer the Source
That birthed you,
A free hand,
In shaping your life;
Your perfect destiny.

In this dimension,
Of chaos and hurt,
Your heart cannot close.
Held tenderly as you are,
In the arms of the Beloved.

Kieran Patrick Riordan
www.kieranriordan.com

(Photo from my garden)

11/02/2018

'Love letter from god'

Beloved,

What will turn your head towards me?
Lost as you are, in dreams of earth and skin,

What will light a fire in your heart,
Inextinguishable,

We have been moving in the dance,
Of shy lovers for aeons.

You secretly call me in anguish,
Then deny me in happier times.

I honour your timing beloved,
For eternity hangs no clocks.

I delight in your reluctant approaches,
I grew tender at your ambivalence.

Let's dance then, the dance of timid lovers,
Let's dance until the heart flame ignites.

When you finally come to me,
You'll swoon in my opened arms.

Then join me at the feasting table
That I have set for your homecoming.

You'll laugh as you share with your ancestors,
Stories from inside the shell of time.

Kieran Patrick Riordan

Byron Counselling

09/05/2018

04/05/2018

29/04/2018

29/04/2018

29/04/2018

26/04/2018

26/04/2018

26/04/2018

09/04/2018

20/03/2018

09/03/2018

11/02/2018

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Monday	11:30am - 7pm
Tuesday	11:30am - 5pm
Wednesday	11:30am - 7pm
Thursday	11:30am - 5pm
Friday	11:30am - 5pm
Saturday	10:30pm - 5pm