I am the blossom, I am the bee
I am the branch, I am the squirrel
I am the acorn, I am the oak
I am the breath, I am the words
I am the space, I am the fullness
I am the song of the May.
“Awe enables us to perceive in the world intimations of the divine, to sense in the small things the beginning of infinite significance, to sense the ultimate in the common and simple; to feel in the rush of passing the stillness of the eternal.”
–Abraham Joshua Heschel
Today’s lesson was about thresholds. Whether literal and metaphorical, these are the magical, liminal spaces between worlds. Today we had a (mostly) screen-off day and focused our energy on cleaning up some clutter hot-spots and miscellaneous “to do” areas around the house (like pictures waiting to be framed and hung up). It felt really cleansing and the house feels brightened up with prayer flags hanging, rather than lying bundled in a pile! Then, this evening we stood in our front doorway and read the blessing that was included in today’s meditation. We noticed that not only were we standing in the actual doorway–the threshold between the inside and the outside, but we were also “between” both light and dark, warm and cold.
While going through piles of papers today, I found the quote above and the quote below (another “threshold!”) saved in my notes. Both felt appropriate for today, especially the one below, where it served as the inspiration for my picture.
My hand is on our front door.
I have arrived.
I am home.
In the here.
In the now.
I am solid.
I am free.
In the ultimate
I dwell.
–Thich Nhat Hanh
Magic mama. She who transforms body and blood into milk. Into life. Into the heartsong of another. Maternal sacrament. Shared freely. Flowing sweetly. Uniting. This thoroughly embodied stuff of motherhood. This physical commitment. This body-based vow to our young. She holds her baby. And she holds the world.
Mammal mama. Liquid love. Cellular vow. Unbreakable, biological web of life and loving.
She’s just feeding her baby. Is she? Or is she healing the planet at the very same time?
Milky smile, fluttering eyes, smooth cheeks, soft hair. Snuggle up, dear one. Draw close. Nestle feet to thighs, head to elbow. And know that you are encircled by something so powerful that it has carried the entire human race across continents and through time for thousands upon thousands of years on its river of milky, white devotion.
This 30 Days practice keeps me on my toes! If I had known that today’s theme was milk, I would have used yesterday’s picture for today! Instead, I’m re-visiting this reading that I wrote at my other blog about my breastfeeding goddess sculptures.
I am also completely, 100% in love with my baby’s tiny tuft of “long” hair that is puffing up on the back of his head today. I feel a pang for his little duck fluff “messy hair” of the newborn days that is already gone and I tried really hard to take a good picture of his current “messy hair” so I remember. I feel this intense and primal urge to try to capture and preserve this time with him, but I know from my other kids that these moments pass by and become old memories, particularly because the current version of each child is right here in front of me, a baby no more. Their babyselves are faded, though my body carries the memories of each of them…
Deep peace of an open heart to you
Deep peace of a wide smile to you
Deep peace of open hands to you
Deep peace of a quiet space to you
Deep peace of welcoming arms to you
Deep peace of an infinite hope to you
Deep peace of Brigid to you.
The prompt for today’s post was inspired by a classic Celtic blessing. We were asked to use a similar structure to the original to create our own “deep peace” blessing. I was working on getting supplies together for a mother blessing ceremony and the lines above are what came to my mind to offer.
We actually used the original reading at my daughter’s naming ceremony as a baby. 🙂
My friend makes beautiful goddess robes. At the 2013 Gaea Goddess Gathering honoring Brigid, I wore one of them to a guided meditation to meet Brigid. As part of the meditation, the facilitator brought around a blue mantle (real, not a visualization) that had been dipped in Brigid’s sacred well in Kildare. She blessed the mantle each woman present was wearing with the special blue mantle from Brigid’s Well, explaining that each mantle was now empowered with the healing energy of Brigid’s mantle.
It was dusk when I made it to the woods this evening, but it was important to me to take a picture there of my Brigid-blessed mantle in response to today’s photo prompt.
The mantle settles around her shoulders.
Sinking into belly, bones, and blood,
until she knows,
without a doubt,
that this is who,
she really is.
Today we had our family Brigid’s Day celebration. Our baby turned three months old on the 30th and so we also had a little three-month birthday ceremony in the woods in which we touched his feet to the earth for the first time.
Here are some pictures from the day (click for captions). We painted prayer flags (based on the “seeking” prompt from an earlier day’s sacred pause email) and then took them down to the woods to tie to the oak. We drummed and sang as the sky spit some freezing rain and a few snowflakes. We wrapped the baby in the silk painted “welcome” banner that we painted for him during the summer. I offered him a blessing and we touched his feet to the rock, to the leaf-strewn Earth, and to a tree. Then we hurried through the cold back to the house where we were cooking “hobo dinners” in the barbecue (I swooped him by the fire briefly to bless him with the flame also, but it was too cold to stay out longer). Inside, we made bread snakes and then enjoyed our dinners. We then had a Brigid/Imbolc ritual with a body blessing, house blessing, and “three blessings of Brigid.” We ate our traditional “fire and ice” trifle and then had a family drum circle! We also experimented with wax divination (dripping wax into water and reading the result). I had hoped to also do metal stamping on copper disks and art journaling, but we ran out of time.
As I’ve mentioned, ritual with kids is a challenge, but I think it is worth it. In case you think I am merrily sitting in the woods with my drum and then effortlessly priestessing my delightful family in harmonious ritual, know that my daughter mixed the sacred salt and sacred water from the body blessing into a paste and spread it all over the kitchen floor. The baby cried when a cold gust of wind caught his face suddenly. The boys made fart jokes at dinner. And, both my husband and I ended up briefly yelling at the kids about various frustrations. (Like doing one-handed cartwheels on the couch and almost kicking over candles, suddenly grabbing iphones and starting to play games, the list goes on!) It is always more wild and discordant and frustrating and stressful than I envision when I’m happily typing up my plans! Guess what? I do it anyway. Therein lies the mamapriestess lesson for me.
Oh! And, today I finished the final two assignments in my final class at OSC. I am now ABD (all but dissertation). I can hardly believe it! I’ve been working on this degree for a long time and I actually expected it to take me several more months from now to finish my final classes. Finishing my dissertation project is one of my biggest goals for the year (I have several others too). Today, I was reminded in multiple ways that I did just have a baby three months ago. It is okay to pace myself and to take my time. So close though! So close.
I have all the time I need.
(right? I made this one of my mottoes for the year in my Shining Year workbook…)
…I keep vigil for the mothers who laugh
and the mothers who cry
the mothers who sing
and the mothers who moan
the mothers who need
and the mother who give
the mothers who triumph
and the mothers who “fail.”I keep vigil for the mothers
who try againI keep vigil
for the mothers of the worldI keep vigil
for the women of the worldI keep vigil
to the fire
in my heart…
I feel a special connection to Imbolc and this time during the Wheel of the Year since it is also the anniversary of Brigid’s Grove, our sculpture and goddess jewelry company. In celebration, a new handout on “how to draw a calamoondala” will go out to e-newsletter subscribers in early February (free Womanrunes e-kit and newsletter sign-up is available on our site).
If you pause in darkness what does your body have to tell you? What do your dreams have to tell you? What does the frozen ground have to 
tell you? What do the spirits of place have to tell you?
What song can only be sung by you?
What emberheart can only be ignited by your breath?
What path have your feet found?
What messages are carved in stone and etched on leaf for your eyes and in your name?
What promise are you keeping?
Imbolc.
Time for your light to shine
from within the sheltering dark.
—
Note: Modified from a prior post, I shared this on my SageWoman blog earlier in the week and then decided to include it here also.
I dream of a sacred fire 
where a family circles,
arms linked
as one.
Shared dream,
shared harvest,
shared blessing,
of family, spirit, hearth, and home.
Light the fire
with your children.
Sing with your partner.
Create a temple
of your hearts,
hands,
and bodies.
A simple seed corn ritual is a lovely addition to your New Year’s Eve or New Year’s Day celebration. It can be completed with a group, a family, or on your own. After reviewing your year and celebrating your accomplishments and successes, consider what you would like to save from this year’s “harvest” to plant in the new year. Take a piece of corn from a pretty dish, close your eyes, and let the seed corn share its dream with you. The above lines are what my seed corn (actually, a piece of unpopped popcorn) had to share with me.
What have you harvested to plant in the new year? What dream are you dreaming?
May you have a warm heart,
open hands,
a creative mind.May you experience inspiration and brilliance,
clarity and focus.
May you laugh richly and deeply.May you circle and celebrate,
may you change and growMay that which is waiting to be unlocked
be freed.And may you soar with the knowing
that you are carried by a great wind across the sky.
Just a quick post to share some pictures from our family solstice celebration last night (mouse over or click for captions). We didn’t do everything I had planned and trying to have a ceremony that includes children can be a chaotic, frustrating, and wild experience (separate blog post about this on another day!), but I enjoy our traditions and I’m pretty sure it is worth it…
Bright blessings of the season to you!
When the wheel of the year turns towards fall, I always feel the call to retreat, to cocoon, to pull away. I also feel the urge for fall de-cluttering—my eyes cast about the house for things to unload, get rid of, to cast away. I also search my calendar for those things which can be eliminated, trimmed down, cut back on. I think it is the inexorable approach of the winter holiday season that prompts this desire to withdraw, as well as the natural rhythm of the earth which so clearly says: let things go, it is time to hibernate.
Late autumn and the shift toward winter is a time of discernment. A time to choose. A time to notice that which has not made it through the summer’s heat and thus needs to be pruned away. In this time of the year, we both recognize the harvest of our labors and that which needs to be released or even sacrificed as we sense the promise of the new year to come.
This year I cocoon with my new baby. Though I have three other children, this new baby was the first child whose development and arrival 
perfectly mirrored the wheel of the year. Conceived during the first month of the new year, taking root in the darkness of winter’s end, beginning to bud during the springtime and coming into full bloom during the summer. And, then, with the season’s spiral turn into fall, when many beautiful things are harvested, his birth: October 30, into my welcoming hands in the sunlight bright morning in my living room. Now, with the steady progress of winter, we curl together in a small, new world. We cocoon in the cave of our own home, the size of the world re-sized to the size of my bed, kitchen table, and rocking chair. This is the fourth trimester, the time in which the baby continues to develop his nervous system and continues to live within the context of the mother’s body. I am his habitat. His place. His home is in my arms.
This sinking in, this cocooning, this safe, small world is perfect for the call of winter. While my to-do list has again begun to clang in my ear and the clamor of my other children surrounds me, the early nights, cold temperatures, and gray skies, remind me to nestle, remember, and grow. Beautiful magic takes root in dark, deep places.
Winter solstice.
Deep, long, dark night.
Cold cracks
brittle branches,
icy stone.Winter’s song
echoes in skeletal treetops
and crackling leaves.
Rest time.
Hibernation.
Silent watchfulness.
Waiting hope.Sink down.
Open up.
Receive and feel.
Hold peace.
May you enjoy a rich, peaceful solstice with your family and loved ones! May you be blessed by light and may you find wisdom and solace in dark, deep, places. And, may you remember not to be so distracted by the promise of the light to come that you forget the great value to be found in endarkenment as well.
On October 30th, I gave birth to a new baby boy. He was born at home in water, my fourth homebirth, but my first waterbirth (his birth story is available here). On the full moon of his one week “birthday,” we took him outside for the first time in his whole life–to meet the world, to feel the fresh, cool air, to be introduced to the moon and the Earth as a member of our family. Here is an outline of the very simple ceremony of welcome we held for him. While we did this with just our other children present, it could easily be expanded to include additional guests.
Each family member carries a candle outside into the full moon’s light.
Circle up, hands on each other’s backs, and hum in unison three times to cast the circle (this is our tradition in our local circle–the hum quite literally unifies and harmonizes our energy and centers us in time and space together. Very simple and effective).
Placing our hands on the new baby:
Welcome to the spinning world, baby boy!
(family repeats)
Welcome to the green Earth!
(family repeats)
We’re so glad you’re here!*
(family repeats)
Each family member chooses a piece of corn from a chalice and makes a wish aloud for the baby, tossing the corn into the moonlight. 
(Our kids love tossing corn so we use this during many full moon rituals.)
Hold the baby out under the moonlight. (Our baby stared right at the moon with solemn, wide eyes.)
Join hands and say closing prayer:
May Goddess bless and keep us,
may wisdom dwell within us,
may we create peace.
*Adapted from the children’s book On the Day You Were Born by Debra Frasier
Closing prayer adapted from unknown source.
Crossposted at SageWoman.
We lay our hands on the
ashes of a woman who has
known birth, who has known life.
We cradle fondly the memories
of love and togetherness—holding
them for one last time in our arms
and let them go—let her go—ashes to ashes
earth to earth and dust to dust.
How sad it is—the time when
loving arms must cradle
memories instead of the warmth
of lived life.
How tenderly do fingers
touch one last time and
gently pull away.
Ashes to ashes and dust to dust.–Kerry Craig in To Make and Make Again: Feminist Ritual Thealogy by Charlotte Caron
I’m in the middle of writing a paper for my ritual theory class at OSC and this little reading caught my eye. It is simple and poignant. It also made me think of my grandma and her memorials.
Birth spiral
.
Energy
feel it spin throughout your body.
Beginning in your core,
unfolding, unfolding, spiraling upward into a peak
and release
Every part of you opening
making space
making room
for this new little one.
Calling the child forth into your waiting arms
your waiting family
your waiting heart.
Enlivened
alive
fully engaged and embodied
in the current of labor.
It builds
it pulses
it rolls
it rocks
it peaks
it crests.
These waves of power.
They are you.
You are doing it.
You ARE it.
This is energy, this power, this unfolding might of creation.
It’s you.
Your body
your power
your birth
your baby.
Let the sparkles of these chakra colors remind you to bring your whole self to your labor. To walk the spiral path, to dive in, to embrace, to unfold, and to become: Mother.
Root (red):
Where baby came into being and now will be welcomed. Source of creation. Gateway for baby and life.
Sacrum (orange):
Where baby has sheltered within a cradle of bone. Pelvic bowl that rocks the child. Make way. 
Solar Plexus (yellow):
Where you take deep breaths, carried on the waves, following your rhythm.
Heart (green):
Where your love bursts forth and you discover what it is like to be endless.
Throat (blue):
Where you roar your birth song. Welcome your baby with your voice, your cry of greeting. Your cry of triumph. Your cry of fulfillment.
Brow (indigo):
Where you let your mind go, where you release, and give, and surrender to the creative, nameless, raw pulsing energy of birth.
Crown (violet):
Where you draw in the wisdom of the ancestors. The power of the Divine Feminine. The ocean of mother love that has gone before you and that surrounds you even now as you work.
Draw it in, draw it up, draw it down. And know, without a doubt, that you can do it. You can walk this path. You can rise to the occasion. You can respond with strength to whatever is asked of you. All the surprises, all the mystery, all the twists and turns and unexpected places. You carry the wisdom within you to let it flow.
—
Crossposted at Talk Birth.
Yoga Woman
she’s stretching out
opening her arms to the sun
swooping forward
gathering the moon in her arms
stretching from side to side.Yoked to divinity
with her steady breath
Yoked to infinity
through the supple movements of her body.In tree pose, she finds her balance
despite asymmetry
flexible, yielding
strong, and steady
one-legged and whole.She is centered
she is ever-changing
she throws back her head
and laughs with the GoddessExpansive core
strong legs
squared shoulders
she carries an ancient body wisdom
linking her to that which has come before
that which will come after
and to the steady pulse of
All That Is.Yoga woman
Full body cellular activation
Occurring through each cosmic respiration.
WoodsPriestess 