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Winter Solstice Ritual Ideas

Posted on December 20, 2013 by Molly

Inviting Our Light to Shine

When you celebrate the winter solstice,
May your light shine.
When you share love,
May your light shine.
When you work for peace,
May your light shine.
When you teach a child about justice,
May your light shine.
When you comfort someone who is ill,
May your light shine.
When you grieve the loss of a loved one,
May your light shine.
When you are challenged to change,
May your light shine.
When you (add your own intention here),
May your light shine.
Bless yourself with the light.
Your light will shine.

via December Ritual: Winter Solstice by Diann L. Neu | WATER – Women’s Alliance for Theology, Ethics and Ritual.

I have not yet finalized my own plans for our family’s winter solstice ritual tomorrow night. I feel somewhat paralyzed about it and I think I’ve finally figured out that it is because I have too many ideas. I have so many saved plans and possibilities (a 32 page word document to be exact) and I’m having trouble choosing and thus forming a coherent ritual structure that will appeal to everyone. I’m trying to keep clearly in focus the fact that my kids need to enjoy this too and I know that that means more doing and less talking. But, dang it, I want to do some soulful year-in-review reflection and new year planning. I’m going to save some of those ideas for New Year’s Eve, I think, even if I have to complete them alone and maybe save some for our women’s retreat in January. (Note to self: this is a lot of stuff to be working on once. Duh. No wonder you feel a little fried!) I don’t want to do “too much,” but I also want to do “enough” (and enough means to me that I feel satisfied and fulfilled with the experience and not like I’m cutting corners because I’m worried about boring the kids and not frazzled because I’m cramming in too much…hence, my paralysis, because I’m not sure these are compatible wishes!)

So, I thought I’d share my collection of resources that I’m using to prepare for this ritual. I’m posting early today, because I want to make sure anyone who is interested knows that there is a free online solstice ritual tonight from Shiloh Sophia (there is a cool little workbook that comes with it and it is full of the kinds of things I think I envision my own ritual holding—the year-in-review stuff—but that I know from past experience is too much for kids to handle without getting bored. Maybe I can accept that this is something I work on alone at night, instead of expecting it to be a community/family experience): Winter Solstice Super Power Ritual LIVE Event | Shiloh Sophia Studios

I’m also excited about this free, downloadable meditation (which may again be best for my solitary self rather than sharing with ALL THE PEOPLE): Winter Holiday Transformation Guided Journey

And, a lovely short ritual from WATER, already excerpted above: December Ritual: Winter Solstice by Diann L. Neu | WATER – Women’s Alliance for Theology, Ethics and Ritual

My own She is Crone poem appears in the Winter Solstice edition of The Oracle from Global Goddess: Winter Solstice 2013 | Global Goddess

Some assorted other delicious links for you (and me):

I previously shared this helpful link for family celebrations: Pagan Family Sabbats and Esbats | Rituals for moms, dads, and kids to celebrate the 8 Pagan Sabbats and Esbats

I love this exploration of the symbolic meaning of the winter solstice from Glenys Livingstone:

Winter Solstice is the time for the lighting of candles, for embracing the miracle of being, for choosing a joyful response to the awesome fact of existence, for celebrating the Gift of Birth. Birthing is not often an easy process – for the birthgiver nor for the birthed one: it is a shamanic act requiring strength of bodymind, attention and focus of the mother, and courage to be of the new young one. Birthgiving is the original place of “heroics” … many cultures of the world have never forgotten that: perhaps therefore better termed as “heraics²” . Patriarchal adaptations of the story of this Seasonal Moment usually miss the Creative Act of birthgiving completely – pre-occupied as they often are with the “virgin” nature of the Mother being interpreted as an “intact hymen”, and the focus being the Child as “saviour”: even the Mother gazes at the Child in Christian icons, while in more ancient images Her eyes are direct and expressive of Her integrity as Creator.

Winter Solstice and Early Spring rituals may be a contemplation of the Creativity of the Cosmos – Cosmogenesis … how it All unfolds. When told from within a “Mother-mind” – a mind that connects the biological creativity of the female body to Cosmic Creativity, to our “Navel” lineage, to the Nativity of every being, then we are all the Holy Ones. And we all – female and male – may know the skill and care required for “birthing” the New, whether that is physical, psychological or however one categorizes it. In Earth-based religious practice, the ubiquitous icon of Mother and Child – Creator and Created – expresses something essential about the Universe itself … the “motherhood” we are all born within (not simply a “brotherhood”). It expresses the essential Communion experience that this Cosmos is, the innate and holy Care that it takes, and the reciprocal nature of it: that is, how one is always Creator and Created at the same time. We cannot touch without being touched at the same time. We may realize that Cosmogenesis – the entire Unfolding of the Cosmos – is essentially relational: our experience tells us this is so.

The Early Spring/Imbolc celebration is traditionally a time of dedication to the nurturance of the New Young Being. Once again, this is no wimpy task: it is for the brave and courageous, whether one is committing to the new being in another or in one’s self. The Great Goddess Brigid of the Celtic peoples is traditionally invoked for such a task. She has been understood for millennia as the One Who tends the Flame of Being: a Brigid-ine commitment is one that is unwavering in its devotion to the central truth of each unique particular self. The stories of Old speak of Brigid in three primary capacities – that may need spelling out in our times, as they are almost forgotten skills: She is imagined as Blacksmith, Physician and Poet … all three.

Blacksmith is one who takes the unshapely lump of raw metal, melts it, then takes the fiery hot form and shapes it … this is no stereotypical “feminine” act: the Goddess of Old is not bound by such patriarchal dualisms. She is spiritual warrior, shaman – this is Her eternal Virgin quality, never separate from the Mother quality or the Old One quality, and no need to characterize such power as “masculine” or dissociate it from “nursery” activity.

Physician is one who understands the “physics” of being, of matter … how a body relates within itself and within its context, functions harmoniously and thus may heal/whole. In this role, Brigid is scientist, healer … none of it separate. Her physics is biologically connected – an understanding of dwelling within a whole and seamless Universe.

Poet of Old is one who speaks the metaphors, the stories of cultural knowledge, the sacred language of Creativity – one who “spells” what may be so. It is a power of spirit: the voice enabled by air, resonant with the winged ones – the birds – whose perspective transcends boundaries. The ancients knew Poetry as a sacred and powerful task – that with our words, we do create what is so. Brigid’s “motherhood statements” are statements of the Mother/Creator, Who once again is never separate from Her whole self – the Young One and the Old One – represented in the Triple Spiral dynamic.

The coming into Being that Winter Solstice and Early Spring celebrates, is an awesome thing. It takes courage and daring. It has taken courage and daring – always. In these times of change, it is perhaps particularly so. Our times require the melting down of so much that no longer works, that will not carry us through. These times require the re-shaping and speaking of new realities – an aboriginal magic of new connections, with what is already present within us, if we can but plumb it, open to it deep within. This is a great seasonal moment to get with the plot of Creativity, to align ourselves with our Native Wisdom …the Wisdom that in fact brings us all into being. We may re-spond to the gift of being by receiving it graciously – and thus become re-sponsible. Though we may feel inadequate, we are not – and we need to begin…

Winter-Spring Earth Wisdom | PaGaian Cosmology

And, I breathed deeply when I read this great suggestion from Tracie Nichols:

Get back in your body. I use this meditation to do that.

Listen for which part of your body would like to speak. If it doesn’t show up immediately, listen some more. Still got nothing? Stop checking your phone and listen again. It WILL make itself known.

Open with a kind and loving statement (see mine above for inspiration) so you are consciously committing to listening and letting your body know how much you love and respect her/him.

Record your conversation with whatever method of creative expression you like best. Journal. Poetry. Art. Dance. Music. Whatever works for you.

Say “Thank you!”

Decide if any action needs to be taken, and take it.

via How not to implode during the holiday chaos… » Tracie Nichols.

My “productive” mode says: keep working, design a fabulous ritual! But, my hungry belly that hasn’t yet had breakfast says: feed me. Please! So, that’s what I’m going to do 🙂

May you enjoy a rich, peaceful solstice with your own family and loved ones! May you be blessed by light and may you find wisdom and solace in dark, deep, places. Do not get so distracted by the promise of the light that you forget the great value in endarkenment as well.

Categories: blessings, community, endarkenment, family, holidays, liturgy, parenting, prayers, priestess, resources, ritual, self-care, spirituality | 2 Comments

Wholeheartedness

Posted on December 19, 2013 by Molly

“Wisdom comes from applying yourself wholeheartedly to whatever you’re doing. The lessons in life are in everything.” –Pema Chodron (in Open Mind, 12/18)

Tonight after I finally extricated myself from my children and stumbled down to the woods in the dark to stand briefly in the light of the full moon, I recognized myself falling into a familiar pattern of self-recrimination—of wishing I was better than I am and feeling annoyed and frustrated with myself for having become annoyed and frustrated by my family. We spent all day today having a “Hobbit Day”—eating a series of themed foods while watching the first Hobbit movie and then driving into town to watch the second Hobbit movie in the theater. It was great fun, but by the time we got back home, the rest of my to-dos felt pretty hopelessly piled up around me and I felt somewhat abandoned in my efforts to get them done before bedtime (such as pack up Christmas gifts for out-of-town relatives). I also am behind on planning my family’s winter solstice ritual and really expected to have a chance to finalize those plans today. I feel perpetually behind on many things much of the time and more just keep coming. No breaks.

The final straw tonight was when I opened up my bag of cinnamon sticks that I’d bought to make cinnamon stick stars with on solstice or New Year’s Eve and they’re totally, ridiculously, uselessly short. It is too late to send them back, too late to order more, and they’re dumb and I feel dumb for having ordered them too hastily without checking the size. When I went to the woods feeling as if I should be more better, I took some of the cinnamon sticks with me to leave as an offering of sorts and to be a reminder that I’ve let go of that perfection worm as well as apologizing for things I don’t need to apologize for. When I came back in, we wrapped and packed the gifts to mail, it got later and later and I realized that my time to create a post for today was once again, up. And, I felt bad about that in two ways—one for my own silliness in making a monthly post commitment during holiday season, when obviously that isn’t particularly sensible/practical/possible, so why don’t I just give up the idea, and two, for even considering not showing up for myself and moving it up in my priority list/doing it anyway. Essentially, why would I expect this from myself?! AND, why wouldn’t I expect this from myself?! I’m ridiculous. I’m committed. I’m ridiculous. So, I’m still here. This post is being made. I’m not going to apologize for it—either way. For wanting to do it, for not wanting to do it, for not cutting myself slack and letting it go, for showing up and doing it anyway even if it doesn’t make sense…

Then, I opened to that nearly-finished Open Mind book and the quote I opened with was the quote for today and I thought oh. Today I did a wholehearted Hobbit Day instead of the other things that were/are waiting for me. That’s okay.

A nice Hobbitty breakfast…

Lembas bread.

Offering up my too-short cinnamon sticks—and my self-recrimination.

Categories: family, night, parenting, self-care, writing

Winter Solstice Playlist

Posted on December 17, 2013 by Molly

I was trying to take a different picture in the woods tonight and I believe this is actually a picture of my hair? Thought it seemed oddly suitable for tonight’s post.

Recently I told this little story on my Facebook page about my toddler daughter—I have a Goddess playlist that I usually listen to when I take a shower (among other times). A couple of weeks ago when I got out, the song playing was The Dark by Mary Grigolia from the Rise Up and Call Her Name CD. I really took comfort from this song during my miscarriages and it still feels meaningful to me. The refrain is: “it is dark, dark, dark inside.” My little girl came in and listened for a minute and said: “why her not turn lights on her house? Her say it dark inside!” Anyway, I got a comment asking me to please share my playlist. That is definitely on my to-do list, but tonight I feel like sharing my winter solstice playlist instead! We have a lot of plans and activities coming up in the next couple of weeks and it is time to break out my winter solstice playlist rather than my goddess playlist. A couple of years ago after one too many renditions of God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen, I decided I had to locate some holiday music that was more in keeping with our family’s own spirituality. So, I searched and I looked and I found the Dolmen’s Winter Solstice album on Amazon music as well as Jaiya’s Winter Solstice album. Some I like a lot better than others (I like upbeat things better than soulful wailing, generally), but here they all are anyway:

My favorite ones are definitely those by the Dolmen, especially Golden Sickel Sunrise, Frosty Solstice Morn, and Bringing the Outside In. The Jaiya ones are more wail-y as well as more traditional (i.e. “God send ye a happy new year”). Invocation to Mother Holle by Ruth Barrett is more of a chant and so might work for a group.

As I was typing this I decided to buy Kellianna’s song Brighid’s Flame on itunes. It isn’t quite a solstice song, but it is about winter and so I’m adding it to my playlist! 🙂

Other suggestions gratefully welcomed. This is all I have!

Categories: chants, family, music, resources, spirituality | 2 Comments

Family Full Moon Ritual

Posted on December 15, 2013 by Molly

Two years ago, in conjunction with one of my classes at Ocean Seminary College, I realized that it was high time for me to try to offer spiritual nourishment and experiences to my immediate family members throughout the year. I want to be the priestess of my own hearth first. And it was at this time, my idea for Family Full Moon Fun was born and we’ve kept it up, with varying degrees of success, ever since.

I usually envision a delightful family ritual with loving connection, meaningful symbolism, spiritual experiences, and perhaps a drum circle. When asked what they want to do for Family Full Moon Fun, my kids usually want to eat treats and watch movies. Though we’ve had some profoundly magical experiences together, often the full moon sneaks up on me, leaving me feeling snappy and unprepared for having fabulous full moon fun and instead having more like rushed, mediocre full moon fun. Recently, I lamented that perhaps I was going to stop trying, because it just didn’t seem to work. Then, I had several realizations. One, in doing something like this for kids, I need to keep it simple. Two, less talking from Molly = more fun for family (the kids need to have active, verbal, responsive parts of the ritual). Three, my kids are already telling me what they think is fun, how I can pull that in to my vision of a regular spiritual date with my family, rather than reject what they’re telling me as not suitably ritualish enough? With these thoughts in mind, I jotted down a very simple ritual. We did it last month and it was wonderful. In fact, my seven-year-old son, who is known for his semi-wild, very physical, and not-particularly-mindful mode of engaging with the others or the world, asked us all to hold our candles up to our hearts and say that we were thankful for love and the light in our hearts. Then, he said, “thanks for doing this kind of stuff for us mom, I really like it.”

Here was our ritual, which we conducted standing out on our back deck in the light of the full moon. Each of us brought a candle and an item for our family altar representing something we’d like to grow and develop in the coming month:

Circle up and place hands on each other’s backs and do a “toning” (group humming) together to unify our energies and sync us up/bring us into ritual space. I actually do this at every ritual I priestess because it is a very connected way of “casting the circle” with our own bodies and physical energy. We usually hum in unison three times. With kids, sometimes it is not in unison and my eyes met my husband’s over their heads in an effort to stifle laughter at the discordant chorus we created.
Invocation using the body (I had a hunch this would work well for kids because it is physically involved, rather than just listening). Turn to the south and rub your hands together, feeling the heat generated by your own body. Fire lives in you. Welcome fire, welcome south (kids repeat with great energy and enthusiasm). Turn to the west and lick your lips, feeling the water of your own body and how it is connected to the waters around the world. Water lives in you. Welcome water, welcome west. Turn to the north and feel the strength and stability of your own body, connected to the earth. Turn to the person next to you and give them a hug, feeling their solid presence. Earth lives in you. Welcome earth, welcome north. Turn to the east and take a deep breath in unison, inhale, exhale, feeling the breath of life in your body. Air lives in you. Welcome air, welcome east.
Then, holding our candles, bathed by the full moon’s light, we each shared our wishes and goals for the coming month as well as what we brought for our family altar and what it represented.
Eat full moon cookies together to symbolize our commitment to our intentions.
I offered a prayer for family togetherness that I made up intuitively and the kids all repeated each line after me, i.e. “May we celebrate each other’s successes, may we communicate positively…”
Holding hands, I thanked them for participating, “may the circle be open…” and we adjourned inside to place our items on our family altar.

I’d also decided to make a simple dinner so that no one had to spend too much time in the kitchen, so I made chicken and potatoes in the roaster and a salad. We came inside and watched our favorite family reality show, Face Off, together while eating our dinner. We enjoyed more of our full moon cookies for dessert and the kids made hot cocoa to drink. And, then we did some drumming.

Full Moon Shortbread Cookies

3/4 c. butter, softened

1/3 c. sugar

2 c. white flour

Mix together until stiff dough forms, adding a 1-2 TB more butter if needed. Roll out and cut in full moon circles. Bake at 350 for 20 minutes. For half of our cookies, we melted chocolate chips and dipped one half of the cookie in the chocolate to make some half moon cookies to go with our full moons.

On a related note, one of the members of my Priestess Path group on Facebook recently shared her website with us, which is a collection of family ritual ideas to celebrate pagan holidays. It looks like a great resource: Pagan Family Sabbats and Esbats | Rituals for moms, dads, and kids to celebrate the 8 Pagan Sabbats and Esbats

–

Crossposted at Pagan Families.

Categories: family, holidays, night, parenting, ritual, spirituality | 4 Comments

Be-ing and do-ing…

Posted on December 9, 2013 by Molly

I mentioned a couple of posts ago that my last post on Feminism and Religion was about my grandma’s memorial service. This is a snippet:

However, this is what I would say about her, and what I did say about her: my grandma lived her life and was a vibrant example to all of us of how to live well and wisely one’s wild and precious life. I valued most about her all the interesting things she did. She was active and busy. She was always doing stuff. And, it was cool stuff and she was a cool person and I loved her and learned from her precisely because she was so busy and interesting all the dang time. I come from a long line of busy women with lots of interests and abilities. Maybe that is just fine.

via An Epic Woman: A Feminist Eulogy by Molly | Feminism and Religion.

I received a comment remarking on the “doing” orientation of my memorial speech/service and this gave me food for thought:

Having read both your eulogy and Grace’s, I’m left wondering if we define feminism in terms of doing instead of being. I think I do, and I wonder if that doesn’t get me in trouble sometimes. I hear you acknowledging and affirming your own lineage of “doing,” and that seems to be a good thing. I’m not calling that personal affirmation into question, but our collective understanding of feminism. Anybody have any thoughts on this? Are we still trying to overcome the stereotype of the passive female? Or is this connected to our need for feminist activism? And what is a feminist “being” anyway? Being feminist in the moment? Embodying the Goddess?

These are excellent questions to consider and something I actually turned over a LOT while I was writing this and in thinking about my grandmother because I could see that this was happening. So, I thought I’d share what I turned over in my response to the comment…

How DO we define a feminist mode of “being” (or any kind of “be-ing” for that matter)? Being, how someone IS and how we know who we are, often eludes definitional capture, which is exactly why we describe others in terms of doing. What IS “being” anyway? Often, I actually find the idea of “just BE” or “be-ing” or the like crowds up my head with yet another admonition of something I’m supposed to DO to be “correct” and adequately self-helped. I’ve also noted that it feels damaging to me to associate “doing” or activity as a “masculine” trait and “being” (or passivity/receptivity) as “feminine.” I also know that in feminism or otherwise it often takes “doers” to get good work done–suffragists, for example! (our activist lineage you reference too)

In regular life, however, rather than theory or self-help books, I find we see someone’s being through the doing–and that can be feminist aligned or otherwise, for sure!

Returning to my grandma as my example, through her doing, I saw her being. In the quilts she made, I saw her love and attention. This in a real sense was her language of being. And, because she DID, one of those very quilts is still there on my bed and I sleep under it every night, even though her being is no longer here with us (or is it still here, because it is still communicated through the works she left behind her?). Her name is signed with a clear, confident stroke on my bedspread in her own hand and it covers me as I sleep. It was through her travels, that we saw her spirit of adventure. It was through the works of her hands that we saw her creativity. It was through her words and conversations and the books she read that we saw her intelligence. If she hadn’t been willing to DO those things, could we have actually seen who she WAS? Brilliant, irrepressible, adventurous, determined…

(Actions speak louder than words!)

Of course, balance is also important. “Doing” self-care also matters. In self-care practices, I think we encounter being in a feminist sense (maybe??). I maintain my daily woodspractice of sitting in the woods each day–there, I can just BE at last! Or, can I? Since the moment of being requires doing to get there–I had to get up, leave the house, go to the woods, walk up onto the rock and sit there, paying attention, feeling the air, thinking my poems, hearing the birds, watching the sunset. That is still doing, in its way. And, I like it.

Ah ha! So, might a feminist-aligned distinction also be found in doing for others vs. doing for/with oneself, perhaps? (I think my grandma actually got this one down really–I easily see both of these in her life)

I’ve actually struggled quite a bit in my own life with self-recrimination over not being able to “just BE,” “better.” And, it is in that sense that I recognized the “noble legacy” of coming from a long line of busy, do-ing women.

So, while our works or our “doings” may be how we are valued and that is kind of bad/patriarchal–but these opportunities are also how we show people that we value them too (feminist). HOW we “do” matters and it in THAT that we can find a feminist connection. In showing up, in doing that memorial service and doing that speech through my tears, I showed the room my own being and how we are/were connected. That was what I could DO for my family and for my grandma. Prepare a service that was loving and respectful and that honored her and who she was, at least to us—and through that, other people could see who she was too (as well as through the other people intimately involved with the memorial luncheon. I’m writing only of my experience/contribution with it, but it was a labor of love from my aunt and other people as well). My grandma helped contribute to her own obituary and requested the menu and location for her own memorial luncheon. That is doing too, yes, but it also epitomizes her way of being–I don’t know that the two can be separated or unwound from the the other. And, that active quality of doing life, was then, who she WAS in being. It is circular (and that’s pretty goddessy in itself!).

How can we describe someone without describing things they did to evidence that? To demonstrate that? I’m not sure. I think without being able to describe the doings of others, we end up with exactly the platitudes and caricatures that I find most decidedly unfeminist. i.e. “She was always loving and caring and supported me 100%.” I find THAT type of memorial statement hollow and nearly meaningless in the vagueness as well as very self-centered (I.e. Only defined in relationship to how “she made me feel.”) How do we actually KNOW that she was those things, how did we SEE that from or with her, or—all too often—-is that just what we think people are supposed to say about grandmas and we find we never knew who she was at all? (Because all we looked for or tried to feel was a stereotype of “she was always loving and nurturing” and forgot about, or never paid attention to, her laughing on the back of an elephant in Africa?)

I sense even more to write about here… ;-D

(As a side note, since she died, I’ve also found myself reconsidering the notion of “stuff” and “clutter” being somehow bad or undesirable, because that is what we have left now. I know that “memories are what matter,” blah, blah, blah, but the fact is that the “stuff” that remains of my grandma’s life and presence is a vehicle for memory and an echo of her and her being/doing that means she is still a part of my life in a tangible way, not just in a when-my-mind-turns-to-her way. Does that make sense? For example, I have one of her Shirley Temple dolls from 1957. Towards the end of fall when the doll came to live with me, I took her down to the woods for a visit. Now she sits in my kitchen. I like the connection. :))

Categories: death, family, feminist thealogy | 4 Comments

Sacred

Posted on December 9, 2013 by Molly

Let us be clear that when I say Goddess I am not talking about a being somewhere outside of this world, nor am I proposing a new belief system. I am talking about choosing an attitude; choosing to take this living world, the people and creatures in it, as the ultimate meaning and purpose of life, to see the world, the Earth, and our lives as sacred.” –Starhawk (Open Mind, 2/7)

Today I made sugar cookies with my kids:

And polymer clay ornaments for myself:

I noticed that it snowed more overnight and my old footprints in the woods were covered up and smoothed over. Yesterday, I also noticed how interestingly the snow on the deck rails had melted:

I finally got some work done on my matriarchal myth paper, but it is tedious going. Tomorrow begins the big push to get the school session finished and piles and piles of papers graded. I’m going to get up early and devote most of the day to it.

Every day sacred…right?! 😉

Categories: family, nature, parenting, quotes | 4 Comments

The Full Circle

Posted on December 6, 2013 by Molly

“Goddess is Magic, the subtle forces of planets, moons and stars, and the Powers of our own Deep Minds. And She is Our Ability to Call forth that which we have need of, and to banish that which we no longer need. And therefore let us gather together in our communities, and join with the forces within and without…”

–Shekhinah in Open Mind (9/25)

Diane Mariechild, the editor of Open Mind, then goes on to explain the following:

Goddess is the full circle. She is birth, life, death, and rebirth. [People] need the Goddess. The planet needs the Goddess. We need to celebrate and embrace the full circle of life; to know that all of life is contained within this circle. There is nothing that is outside the circle…Goddess is energy, a way of balanced relationship, an openness of the heart that allows us to have a full experience of life, with all its pain and all its joy.

Find a quiet time during the day or the night when you can sit alone and feel the energy of the world around you. Tune into the natural world—the water, the air, the light of the sun or the moon, the trees, the Earth. Can you sense this energy? No need to call it by any name. Sense. Breathe. Allow

Last night and today, it snowed a lot. I was interested to see the juncos–snowbirds–show up several days before the snow, when the temperature was still in the 60’s. They hopped around in the driveway and I told my husband that I guessed the forecast was actually going to be right, even though the air didn’t feel like it! I used up most of my writing energy/time today by writing blog posts about our winter family fun on other blogs. And, today my blog post about my grandmother’s memorial service (which I planned and served as the priestess for) was published on Feminism and Religion:

It was deeply important to me to have multiple voices represented during the small, family-only, service and I enlisted all the grandchildren present, as well as her step-grandchildren, in an adapted responsive reading based on Walt Whitman’s “Song of the Open Road”. I chose it precisely because it spoke to the irrepressible, adventuresome spirit of my grandmother. It was a lot of pressure to be responsible for the family ceremony for the interment of her ashes. I wanted it to be perfect. I wanted it to be what she deserved. I wanted it to “speak” to every person there. I wanted it to be worthy of her. I hope it was enough.

via An Epic Woman: A Feminist Eulogy by Molly | Feminism and Religion.

I also found out that my revised thesis prospectus was accepted and I can officially use my Woodspriestess project as the subject of my thesis!

And, I decided I simply must pre-order this amazing-sounding anthology of writings by modern priestesses:

From “Priestessing with Integrity” by Sylvia Braillier:

“Priestess . . . favored by the Goddess, wise woman, sage and a guide to others on the path. Being a priestess is a vocation that honors the sacredness we embody as women. We are fortunate to live in a time when the Goddess is returning and we can represent and support her work here in this world as priestesses. It’s easy to make up romantic notions about what it is to be a priestess. Not to say that some of them aren’t true, but it’s a package deal that includes real challenges and great blessings. When the rubber meets the road, what does being a priestess really entail?

Whether initiated as a priestess within a tradition or by the challenges and blessings of life, certain responsibilities are part and parcel of the vocation. The job of priestess doesn’t stop when you leave the circle. It is a life commitment to accountability and integrity, not only by performing your duties to the best of your ability but by walking in life as a living representative of enlightened behavior and speech. As a priestess, your behavior sets the bar. One of the greatest gifts you can give is to teach by example and live the teachings as fully as you can.”

http://www.goddess-ink.com/priestessanthology.html

May we all live well and wisely and take any opportunity to play in the snow 🙂

Categories: family, feminist thealogy, Goddess, nature, priestess, spirituality, woodspriestess | 3 Comments

Practice

Posted on December 2, 2013 by Molly

“My writing is a practice. It requires that sort of daily repetition and solitude—being with oneself—awareness—awareness of one’s body, awareness of one’s thoughts, awareness of one’s own process. And meditation makes me more aware of everything I do, so it makes the movements within my writing process clearer to me.”

–Susan Griffin (in Open Mind, 10/16)

It is interesting to see that I’ve decided to begin this new daily writing practice at a time in which I don’t feel much like writing any blog posts! Hmm. Today, my time in the woods was abbreviated slightly by the return of my small children, but before their voices came floating over to me, I was sitting with the sound of woodpeckers. There were at least three different ones near me of at least two types and it sounded like there were more that I didn’t see. As winter steadily approaches, I’ve noticed that there is much less bird song in the forest lately, but today (warmer) the woods were alive with the sounds of birds and squirrels. Woodschorus.

Sunset

Got obsessed with collecting acorn caps to make hats for Christmas ornament elves

A mysterious hole in the ground that wasn’t there yesterday.

Can you see the little woodpecker?

I’ve also noticed that while I enjoy being alone, I’m feeling a little cooped up and isolated lately–the Thanksgiving holiday meant that our usual weekly activities were different from what they usually are and I’ve gone nearly a week without seeing anyone other than my immediate family and my parents. My nerves feel a little shot by the voices of my darling children, I’m really feeling extremely done co-sleeping with my toddler daughter, and all three of them seem out of sorts and extra messy, wild, loud, disagreeable and irritable too. I think they also miss seeing their friends and going places.

With winter’s approach and the turn of the wind to cold, it has also come to my attention that I want to create some more sacred spaces inside my home. Before I began my woodspractice, I used to sit at my living room altar every morning and spend some time in prayer/reflection. Now, I’ve let it get a bit dusty and so over the weekend I spent some time cleaning it up and rearranging the items a little bit. Today when I sat down at my desk to work on my classes, I lit a candle and then designed to squeeze a little altar space in front of my textbooks 🙂

I’m having trouble allowing myself the moontime downtime my body calls for as well. Though I very nearly talked myself out of it AND very nearly apologizing for wanting to do it, I did carve out a small niche of time in which to participate in Paola’s New Moon Intention call this evening. I laid down with a heat pack with a candle and a pocket goddess sculpture as a tiny altar space and listening with my eyes closed to her voice and to the intentions of the other women in the virtual sacred circle. I’m glad I gave this to myself, even though it meant people were waiting for dinner.

Yesterday, I decided that I’m no longer willing to expect myself to be perfect. I’m done with that. I’m cleaning it out. Unraveling it from around my heart and brain. Done.

“Imitate the trees. Learn to lose in order to recover, and remember that nothing stays the same for long, not even pain, psychic pain. Sit it out. Let it all pass. Let it go.” –May Sarton (in Open Mind, 10/25)

“It is a long baptism into the seas of humankind, my daughter. Better immersion than to live untouched.” –Tillie Olsen (in Open Mind, 11/8)

In keeping with the swirling change of the seasons, I fell in love with this amazing picture of Shekinah Shaking Out the Seasons by Caron McCloud (Shiloh Sophia McCloud‘s mother). For some reason it came to me today and I felt absolutely transfixed by it:

I hope there is a print of this available someday because it must go on my wishlist! And, I signed up for her free “7 day aliveness challenge” too.

Categories: art, family, introversion, moontime, nature, quotes, woodspriestess | 1 Comment

Gaea Goddess Gathering: Listen to the wise woman….

Posted on September 13, 2013 by Molly

Mini mamapriestess sculpture I made to take with me for my medicine bundle.

Last summer after I finished my priestess certification and I’d been facilitating women’s retreats and circles for about four years, I got a wild idea to go to a womanspirit or goddess festival of some kind. I did a google search and found one that sounded great—the Gaea Goddess Gathering–and it was happening in just two weeks. Imagine my surprise to then look at the bottom of the screen and see that it was located only a five-hour drive from me, just over the border into Kansas. I decided it was “meant to be.” My mom and a friend signed up with me (and my toddler daughter) and we packed up my van and went! The night before we left on our adventure, I sat down at the kitchen table and felt a knife-like stinging pain on the back of my leg. I’d accidentally sat on a European giant hornet (these are not regular hornets, they are literally giant hornets about two inches long).

Sting before I left.

Though it became hot and swollen and terribly painful, we set forth anyway. I asked for input on Facebook and did google research and started putting benadryl cream on it, even though I usually go with home remedies over medical-model remedies. It got worse and worse, eventually running from my hip to my knee and wrapped around my entire leg so that two thirds of my thigh was sting-area and the difference in size between my legs was noticeable through clothing. During the festival, as I watched myself get worse and worse and people kept making remarks about needing epi-pens and maybe I should go to the hospital, I decided to dispense with the benadryl and listen to the wise women instead. My friend found plantain and made me a poultice. The cook gave me baking soda that I applied in a paste. I went to a ceremony that involved a healing ritual with sound and a priestess in a tent beat a drum over me as I lay there on my stomach. After a little Reiki healing, she then leaned very, very close to my ear and said quietly, “are you taking good enough care of yourself? You give and give and it is time to receive. You need to be taken care of too.” And, I cried.

Sting after arriving. I didn’t take any pictures of it at the worst. It got about twice as bad as this. Every time I thought it could not possible get worse, it got twice as bad!

I came out of the tent and laid on a bench and women I didn’t know came and put their hands on my back and made me tinctures of strange plants they found in the herb garden and I drank it even though it almost made me gag. Another woman I didn’t know rubbed my back and though I couldn’t even see her face, she leaned close to my ear and said, “sometimes life stings you. Your friends, your family, being a parent, taking care of your children. It stings sometimes. Things people say without meaning to sting you. You’re sensitive, Sometimes it stings a lot and you worry that you’re not good enough. I see you with your baby. You are such a good mother.” And, I cried again, lying there on bench in the middle of nowhere with my dress pulled up and my red, sore, swollen, horrible thigh covered with a poultice of mysterious weeds, surrounded by women I didn’t know, but who were caring for me. And, I got better. By the time I got home, the sting was almost totally healed.

As soon as I returned home, I made a list, intending to develop it into a blog post about everything I’d learned at this gathering of women. The list languished in my drafts folder and the wheel of the year continued to turn and now it is September again and next week, some friends and I will be hopping back in my van and heading back to the GGG for this year’s festival. I decided the blog post will never get “developed” into the post I had intended, but that I can still share my list anyway. I’m also writing now because I’m going to go ahead and give myself a week off from blogging and I wanted to post some sort of explanation as to why. I’m going to focus on getting ready for the festival (I’m selling jewelry while there too!) and hanging out with my family (and, oh yeah, grading all the papers that are due this Sunday night!).

So, what did I learn at the GGG?

I have a lot to learn
Likewise, I know more than I give myself credit for—I am both more skilled than I may think and less skilled than I’d like to be.
I want to be more confident
I need to always remember to look for a wise woman when I need help. And, that allowing myself to be cared for by strangers is a surprisingly powerful experience.
I am much more quickly judgmental than I realized or like to admit—I judge the book by its cover and assess “worth” by appearance more often than I thought and I disappointed myself with that. I learned that ALL women have hidden gifts and I was surprised over and over again what people had to offer, that their appearance might not have suggested.
My body knows how to heal (I’ve learned this before, also from a bug)
It was great to have just one-on-one time with my little girl. She just wants to be with me. I didn’t have to cook/do laundry or anything else. I just toted her around which is exactly what she needs/wants (*note from this year: she still wants exactly this and I’m looking forward to giving it to her).
My mom is incredibly creatively gifted. And, I’m lucky to be around so many creative women in my own community. They have awesome gifts!
I don’t need to do everything—other people have their own talents and I don’t have to “do it all,” all of the time.
But by the same token, I don’t have to be good at everything and it is still okay to do things and be bad at them, but still try. (However, it also good to let other people have their specialties/share their gifts. I don’t have to do it all.)
I can be open to receive.
I can be a singer! Perform in a group! Feel awesome!
Once this started, I knew I’d made the right choice to come after all!
Ditto drummer!
Explanation of the two points above which also connect to the one about not having to do everything and yet it also being okay to try. One of the sessions at the festival was the “GGG Soul Singers.” One of the women taught a large group of us several cool songs. During the special dinner that night, we got up together with sound equipment and everything and performed our songs. Everyone was yelling and cheering and clapping and it was great. So much fun! I’m a terrible singer, I know that, but that night I felt like I was amazing. And, I learned that being terrible at something doesn’t mean you can’t do it anyway and enjoy yourself. I’m looking forward to doing this again this year! At this festival I was captivated by these massive community drums the women had. Large enough to be played by four or even more women at once, I absolutely loved them. Even though I didn’t know what I was doing, I tried, and discovered I could indeed do it. I could drum and sing and keep up with the group. When I got home, I decided I must have a drum like this and spent way too much money and ordered one online. And, even though I’m tone-deaf and “non-musical,” I can play it. And, I’m still amazing, whether I really am or not!
I felt both more and less competent—related to knowing a lot and yet having a lot to learn, I discovered that I’m a pretty good ceremonialist, a lot better than I’d given myself credit for, but that some other people are way better than me (and others are not. What matters is trying).
Intense stairs from the dining hall and lodging to the “ridge” where ceremonies took place. Navigating these was NO FUN with that sting on my leg! But, isn’t my tiny girl cute setting off on her own and heading on up?!
I was acknowledged/recognized as priestess/clergy to my own circle of women and it felt very good to be seen in that way. I’m trying to be/offer/bring something to the local area that still feels tender and vulnerable in myself. I lack some confidence. Want to build it! And, yet, I do it anyway. I’m brave! Maybe I’m not as skilled or musical or awesome as I could be, but I’m pretty darn good and…at least I TRY!
Want family to be clear priority. Family harmony is a top goal. I want to make sure to give them my good stuff too! Don’t save my passion and enthusiasm for “others” only!

When I got home from this festival, I was so inspired that I planned and facilitated a pretty great nighttime, firelit “sagewoman” ceremony in a teepee (with drumming on my new community drum) for the wise women of my own community. As a ritualist/ceremonialist, I learned from the GGG-experience that ambiance really, really matters in offering a cool ritual.

Since last year, I’ve developed my ceremonialist skills even further and last month received an additional supplemental ordination from the American Priestess Council. I’m almost three years into my D.Min program, I’ve taken advanced coursework in ritual design as well as pastoral counseling, liturgy, the role of the priestess, ethics, history, and so forth. At this time last year, I was struggling with whether or not it was “okay” for me to own the Priestess identity I felt “called” into and at the GGG I was seen and heard into this identity particularly by my friend and also by my mom. It turns out it is okay for me to serve others as a Priestess and to claim that title with authenticity even though I’m not as perfect and amazing as I feel like I should be (I’m also a blogger for SageWoman magazine and I’m currently working on a post called who does she think SHE is, that is about exactly this tension).

Some more pictures:

Henna feet! From the woman who did this for me, I learned the phrase: “sparkles are my favorite color.”

Medicine bundle! This was the best class ever. The woman brought piles and piles of random and awesome stuff and it was all free to choose what you wanted for your bundle. How cool is this face?!

She also had simple clay goddesses for us to paint and attach as well as we could.

Pensive little child gazing back at the stairs up which she just journeyed.

Back home demo’ing a beautiful sarong gifted to my by my seeing friend!

What’s this…

…I hear…big DRUMS!

When I got home, I was inspired to make some new sculptures and my husband cut a lovely gemstone and made a pendant.

Here I go again! I wonder what lessons await me this year…

—

Crossposted at Talk Birth

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Categories: community, family, friends, GGG, Goddess, priestess, retreat, ritual, spirituality, womanspirit, women, women's circle | 7 Comments

Riverpriestess: Lava’s Echo

Posted on July 25, 2013 by Molly

Lava’s echo
river’s run
inhabiting my form
with ancient memory
each sense engaged
alive…

Breeze kisses skin
moves my hair
blood separate from water
only by thin skin

Bone close to rock
mineral

Child in arms
once inhabiting my body
separated
by a few millimeters
of skin and muscle

And now…
here, together
in lava’s echo.

Today we got home from a quick little anniversary mini-vacation to Johnson’s Shut Ins and Elephant Rocks in southern Missouri. Our whole family loves rocks and these are some rocks! While at the Shut-Ins, which are formed from past volcanic activity, I had a little “poem” moment above.

At Elephant Rocks, which is where the pictures in this post were taken, we found this cool symbol that made me think of a spiral:

And my husband made me a pretty new necklace!
Before you get in to the major part of Elephant Rocks, there were some cool triplicate stones.

Other pictures and more narrative here.

Categories: embodiment, family, nature, poems | Leave a comment

Woodspriestess: Ball Ring

Posted on June 24, 2013 by Molly

Ball ring
on her hand
and now on mine
hands that will one day
still
cease
pause.

Hands that once held me
hands that I watched
knit, quilt, sew, drive, carry
hold, hug…

Hands are gone
the ring is still here
and really
in their way
the hands are still here too.

The egg that became me
was carried in her body
the circle of life keeps turning
the wheel keeps spinning
and here we are
this is real now.

Ball ring
has been a lot of places
told a lot of stories
seen a lot of things
and it is still here
a reminder
of what has gone before.

Thank you.

(6/6/13)

My grandma has been on my mind all day today. It has been two months now since she died. Since we always lived far away from each other and thus often went six months without seeing her, it is easy to forget that she’s gone and not at her home in California volunteering at the zoo and working in her sewing room. I dreamed about her last night—nothing significant or easy to remember, it was more like she was at the edges of the dream, smiling from distance. I was aware of her watching us and smiling, but we didn’t talk or interact.

One of my earliest memories of her is of sitting on her lap and playing with a gold ball ring on her finger. I don’t know the story behind that ring, I feel as if I should, but from the time I was a tiny girl she always wore it when she visited her grandchildren and we all liked to play with it. I imagine it was a coincidence that she wore it around a grandchild in the first place, but then it became a thing that she did and that all of us associated with her. When my aunt and mom were going through her jewelry they asked if there was something I wanted and I asked for the ring. Later, my two sisters both mentioned it as well and I feel guilty or selfish for being the one to get it. At this point, I can’t wear it. It makes me feel awful to see it on my own hand. Its hers. It belongs on her hand. The whole reason I wanted it was because it was something that reminds me very concretely of her, but that is the exact same reason that I can’t wear it right now. I hope my own grandchildren will play with it though when I wear it to meet them. It fits on the same finger on my hand that it fit on hers. I sat it on a Hitty’s lap for a while and then ended up putting it into a little shadow box with her on the replica of Hitty’s bench that my dad made for my grandma.

After I recorded the above “poem,” I became obsessed with finding a picture of her wearing the ring, because suddenly I worried that I’d imagined or exaggerated that she always wore it to see us. Indeed, I don’t know if she ever wore at other times, but around the grandchildren, it was a fixture. And, I did readily locate pictures from her eightieth birthday party in which you can see the ring on her hand where it belongs.

When we were at Carlsbad beach in California two days before my grandma’s memorial services, I used beach stones to make names in the sand for several people.

Mamoo was our grandma name for her.

After I made her name and took pictures of it, I was thinking about the whole issues of “signs” that people receive from loved ones who die. I’d had some conversations with my mom about it and how we don’t really get any of said signs. I was thinking that perhaps it means the person has no “unfinished business,” or perhaps that the end is the end and there simply are no signs to be had and it is silly to expect any. Right after having these thoughts, I looked down at the M in her name and there was this stone: There was a sign for me after all and I gratefully received it. I held this stone through the two “Mamoorial” services that followed—the committal service I planned and officiated at the chapel where her ashes were placed with my grandfather and then the Celebration of Life luncheon at which I gave a grandchild speech. I felt like I needed to be holding and rubbing this stone in order to carry out those speeches. I later found a companion heart-shaped stone on Moonstone Beach that I saved for my mom.

Categories: death, family, poems, theapoetics, woodspriestess | Leave a comment

Woodspriestess: Raspberry Warrior

Posted on June 17, 2013 by Molly

Goddess of green spaces
and deep places
cleanse my soul.

Anoint my spirit
with peace
and remind me
to let go.

Remind me
of the power
of appreciating
that which I have.

May I inhale
and exhale
with release
and freedom.

The spirit of adventure
runs through my veins
with the rich color
of crushed raspberry

May it always run so free
may it be blessed
and may I be reminded
of the courage and love
shown in small, wild adventures.

Wild black raspberries are ripe at my Missouri homestead and this morning I went on an expedition with my three children to gather what we could. As I returned, red-faced, sweating, and after having yelled much more than I should and having said several things I instantly regretted, I was reminded of something that I manage to forget every year: one definition of insanity is picking wild berries with a toddler. In fact, the closest I ever came to spanking one of my kids was during one of these idyllic romps through the brambles when my second son was three. While still involving some suffering, today’s ramble was easier since I have a nine-and-a-half-year old now as well as the toddler. This time, my oldest son took my toddler daughter back inside and gave her a bath and put her in new clothes while I was still outside crawling under the deck in an effort to retrieve the shoes and the tiny ceramic bluebird I’ve had since I was ten that my girl tossed over the railing and into the thorns “for mama.”

While under the deck, I successfully fished out the shoes (could not find the tiny bird) and I found one more small handful of raspberries. Since the kids were all safely indoors, I took my sweaty and scratched up and irritable self and ran down to my sacred woodspace. I was thinking about how I was hot, tired, sweaty, sore, scratched, bloody, worn, and stained from what “should” have been a simple, fun little outing with my children and the above prayer came to my lips. I felt inspired by the idea that parenting involves uncountable numbers of small, wild adventures. I was no longer “just” a mom trying to find raspberries with her kids, I was a raspberry warrior. I braved brambles, swallowed irritations, battled bugs, sweated, swore, argued, struggled, crawled into scary spaces and over rough terrain, lost possessions and let go of the need to find them, and served as a rescuer of others. I gave my blood and body over to the task.

When I returned and showered, my oldest begged for me to make homemade raspberry sorbet with our findings. I’ve never made sorbet before and wasn’t sure I should dare try, but then I gathered my resources and said yes to yet another small adventure…

Today, I also noticed many lovely blooming things!

Yes, like Inanna, I faced thorny gates and descended into darkness, crawled on my knees, and gave up things that I cherished, and in the process discovering things about myself, and then returned with a renewed sense of purpose and an awareness of my own strengths…but, I got sorbet out of the deal!

This post is a crosspost, in part, from my post at Pagan Families (which includes pictures of the finished sorbet and a recipe!).

Categories: family, nature, parenting, poems, prayers, spirituality, theapoetics, woodspriestess | 2 Comments

Womanrunes: The Labyris

Posted on June 9, 2013 by Molly

Womanrunes: The Labyris. Rune of Will. Power in the world. Mobility. Having one’s way.

This is a stone of assertiveness. Of standing up for oneself. Of claiming unapologetically one’s place on the planet and in the stream of life. This is a strong stone, a steady stone, a stone you pull when the time has come to make decisions. When the time has come to say no. When the time has come to choose. It is a stone of action, determination, energy, sustenance, vitality, and truth. It reminds us that it is okay, necessary, to speak up. To do what must be done. To say yes and to say no, without explaining, justifying, rationalizing or apologizing. The Universe is made up of many wills. Many wills joining, bumping into one another, dominating, submitting, sharing, giving up, being stubborn. The Labyris rune is about a strong, steady, inner will. A sense of personal power and the ability to stand in that personal power. The ability to step forward with purpose. To speak up with firmness. It is not about dominating or oppressing or submerging the wills of others. It can remind us of the power in partnership, in collaboration. Of the power found in working together. Though in that context, still asserting one’s own self-responsibility and potency and personal power.

This rune turns up when it is time to make changes. The time has come to draw upon your flexibility and your ability to notice what needs to be different, what is calling out for action and change, and to dig deep for the courage and will that are necessary to enact those changes. Remember that mobility can sometimes involve knowing when to wait. When to be still and when to return to something later in one’s life course. This is a stubborn rune. It wants its own way. You want your own way. It isn’t wrong to want that. Have you been silent for too long? Have you squelched your own desires? Have you pretended to be something you are not? Have you expected others to read your mind and meet your needs for you, without needing to speak up? Have you been wanting to flee? Have you been wanting to quit or say no, but don’t know how? That’s where this double-headed axe comes in. It can cut both ways. What needs to be pruned away? Watch out. She’s chopping there. Be careful not to cut the ones you love, to cut off more than you bargained for or more than you want. Handle blades with care, for they can be dangerous. Is this what you worry about in asserting your own will? That you are dangerous? That people do not get what they need from you? That you are not enough? You are more than enough and sometimes that is scary. And, sometimes it scares others.

Slice cleanly and without apology. Slice carefully and without regret. Remember to keep enough room around you to swing the blade freely.

In an ironic twist, when I headed to the woods to make this recording, I thought to myself: I don’t have time to do this. Immediately, I strongly “heard”: you don’t have time NOT to do this. I started the memo recorder and got through the title of the rune before my kids were hollering out of the door to me that the noodles were boiling and I had to come back RIGHT NOW. I resisted and thought about not having time NOT to do it, but they kept yelling and so I surrendered my will to theirs and headed back inside. For the record, the noodles were not boiling yet and I could have stayed. And, I was annoyed that I didn’t get my own way… 😉

The small difference waiting to be noticed on the day I made this recording was this little snail on a leaf!

—

Update: this project evolved into a real book!

The first post in my Womanrunes series is available here. The runes and the names of them come from Shekhinah Mountainwater’s Womanrunes system for which there are no written interpretations available other than the name and one word meanings. I’m engaging in a semi-daily practice of drawing one and then going down to the woods with it to see what it “tells” me–basically, creating what I wish I had, which is a more developed interpretation of the meaning of each womanrunestone.

Categories: family, Womanrunes | 1 Comment

Seapriestess: Beach Poetry

Posted on June 4, 2013 by Molly

Before we left on our trip, I envisioned spending some quality nature time sitting on the beach and composing delightful beach poetry. Turns out that I’m not really a “seapriestess” and should probably stick with the woods! I told my family this morning about my fond imaginings and then spontaneously “wrote” the following series of mini-poems based on what it has really been like to be at the beach on vacation 😉

Oh, Cupcake Wine
Why you not tasty?

—

Tiny owl
In bowl of water
Enough for breakfast
—

Moonstone, oh moonstone
I wish to find you
You sparkle
In my heart
—

McClintock’s
House of onion rings
And diarrhea
—

Diving in
to steal her popcorn
You’re like monsters!

—
Time to sort rocks
Cast off the non-shiny
Previously gathered
In a fit of mistaken beauty.

Categories: family, parenting, poems, theapoetics | 1 Comment

The Builder

Posted on May 25, 2013 by Molly

The Builder

There is a builder
Here on planet earth
We see the creative gift in him
A gift given at birth.

Building hopes
Building dreams
Building families
Building roots
Building houses

Making toys for his children
and grandchildren
And a home for his wife

Loving quietly
But deeply
Feeling much
Saying little
Full of wisdom
And help
And with a taste for laughter

We know a builder
Here on planet earth
The things he’s given us
Echo in our days

Genes, memories, hilltop homeplaces
His legacy

We see a builder
Here on planet earth
His love is recognized
His gifts are seen
His wisdom is appreciated

We love a builder
Here on planet earth
And we salute him
In his infinite worth.

3/4/2013

Today is my dad’s 60th birthday! In March of this year, I went to the woods and a poem about him emerged. I know it doesn’t seem particularly remarkable, but I cried and cried as I was speaking it! Some context…in the 1970’s my parents moved to Missouri and my dad rebuilt an old log cabin in which I grew up (alternative energy like solar and wind power). The longer we lived there, the more buildings he built—there are something like 30 buildings on their hilltop homestead now. He also worked as a carpenter for many years. He has a gift for working with wood (remember my woodspriestess beads?! :)) He helped us build our own house and more recently he has been helping good friends of ours build their house as well.