woodspriestess

Saturday Sabbath: Song from the Mother

Posted on March 31, 2013 by Molly

Today, we were gone all day at one of our work parties with friends. While I didn’t actually take a full digital sabbatical, it made sense to me to switch my “sabbath” day post/thoughts around and share those today and then share my end-of-the-31-day woodspriestess blogging experience tomorrow. I’ve been saving this gorgeous picture and lovely Mother Song to post (reprinted with permission from the artist) and the time finally has arrived!

I also read these two fabulous quotes:

“Whoever you are
whatever you are
start with that,
whether salt of the earth
or only white sugar.”
–Alice Walker (in Open Mind)

And…

“Let it 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’m talking about choosing an attitude; choosing to take this living world, the people and creatures on it, as the ultimate meaning and purpose of life, to see the world, the Earth, and our lives as sacred.” –Starhawk (in Open Mind)

And, on my extremely brief visit to the woods this morning, I took a picture of the rock I think of as the “yoni stone.”

Categories: Goddess, nature, quotes, sabbath, woodspriestess | Tags: goddess, mother song, nature, quotes | 4 Comments

Woodspriestess: Women’s Circles

Posted on March 30, 2013 by Molly

“I see a chain of women, each listening to each, being present to her as she waits
for her Self to be born, for her feeling values to come to form and to birth…
Woman after woman, being present, as each finds her voice”
Judith Duerk: Journey to Herself

“The calling a woman feels to gather in Sacred Space with other Sisters starts first as a low and slow warmth that begins to burn. If left unfed, it rises quickly to a raging fire of desire. It will not be denied and can only be quenched by the nourishment of Truth, Candlelight,
Song And Sisterhood”
Ayla Mellani ~ Founder of Chrysalis Woman

“You will be teachers for each other. You will come together in circles and speak your truth to each other. The time has come for women to accept their spiritual responsibility for the planet”
Sherry Anderson & Patricia Hopkins ~ The Feminine Face of God

quotes via Chrysalis Woman

In February 2010, I bought the Rise Up and Call Her Name curriculum from the UU Women and Religion store. I listened to the CD that came with the curriculum over and over during one of my darkest personal experiences, the experience of my second miscarriage, and it spoke to me deeply at a time when I needed it and when I was not able to be “heard” in any other manner. It was at this time that the shift in my life’s focus became apparent to me, from birthwork to women’s life cycle work, and priestess work. I dreamed of facilitating the series of classes, but it took me until this year to actually make that dream a reality. We’ve been having quarterly women’s retreats locally since the end of 2010 and I’ve facilitated the Cakes for the Queen of Heaven series a couple of times as well as Meetings at the Moon for mother-daughter pairs, but Rise Up kept waiting in my closet. This year, I decided to offer it as a year-long once-a-month class, rather than as a 13 week series. I thought this made sense in terms of people’s busy schedules and ability to commit. As it turns out, committing to something once a month for a year may also be asking too much of many women and only a small handful of women made the commitment. We now have just a little circle of six, but we’re doing it and it actually feels like the perfect group after all (I’m easily seduced into bigger-is-better ways of thinking about groupwork, even though smaller groups can be much more rewarding experiences!). This afternoon was our March class and it really felt like it “healed” me from my disconnect, separation, can’t listen/reach out the way I wish to, feelings from my “making a place for others” post on Wednesday. My post from Wednesday was very much an artifact of not having any time alone to regroup from several stressful, too-busy days in a row. This afternoon before the Rise Up class, my parents had my kids over and I spent some time first down in the woods visiting the rocks further down the hill, including these that form a lovely circle…

On my way back to the house, just look at what popped out at me from the ground…

This is one of the “stepping stones” on the way to the priestess rocks. I can’t believe I’ve never noticed her before! When I came in, I put on the Rise Up CD and worked setting up a springtime altar. When I lay out an altar, I often kind of force myself to include the “right” objects representing the four directions. This time, I decided to just put on the altar what wanted to be there and what communicated something about the purpose of the day. I loved the result! It was one of my favorite circle altars so far.

Altar with addition of springtime daffodil from my mom, rearrangement of many things by toddler daughter, and eating of fig cookies as part of the “ingathering” ritual…

Circle round
circle round and celebrate
circle round and sing
circle round and share stories
circle round and reach out a hand

circle

no beginning
no end

In my college classes, I often tell my students that in working with people, we need to learn to think in circles, rather than in lines. Circles are strong. Circles are steady. Circles hold the space, circles make a place for others. Circles can expand or contract as needed. Circles can be permeable and yet have a strong boundary. Linked arms in a circle can keep things out and show solidarity. Linked energy in a circle can transform the ordinary into sacred space. Hands at each other’s backs, facing each other, eye level.

In the woods, I offered this prayer for our circle:

May our circle be strong
may our circle be harmonious
may our circle be steady
and may our circle grow and change

please guide me as I priestess this circle today
please help me to see, hear, and honor those within the circle
help me to act with love in my heart, hands, and mind
help me to guard the energy of this space
help me to facilitate sacred connection

let us all act as sisters
as companions and friends
hold hands
hold the space
hold each other…

I also chose the following reading to use following the “ingathering” ritual at the opening of the Rise Up class. We did it as a responsive reading (i.e. I read each line and then the group repeated it). It felt perfect!

I am a woman,
a human being of extraordinary strength, wisdom, and grace.
My woman’s body was created in the body of a woman.
I am daughter, sister, mother
in thousands of generations of women…
I am a woman,
part of and the whole of the first circle,
the circle that transcended space and time,
the circle of women joined.
–Ann Valliant and Kathleen Klimek (in Open Mind by Diane Mariechild)

I had such a positive, happy feeling after the close of our class. I did not feel drained or as if I’d been doing too much or giving away too much of my energy. I felt nourished, healed, connected, and satisfied. In February, when I took my annual computer-off retreat, I had the realization that a lot of the scattered and distracted feelings I experience are more often related to children and parenting than to technology (I’d been blaming technology, but with the technology off, I realized it was actually the kids!). And, today I had a similar realization—that perhaps I often feel drained by people contact as well as scattered, distracted, and unable to fully connect, because I’m usually trying to do that and mother at the same time. While mothering is fulfilling too and my kids are certainly extremely important to me, oh my goodness it was just a delight to spend time with these friends today just us, with no kids asking us for anything. It was much easier to see and be seen, to hear and be heard, when there were no other needs to fulfill but our own!

Right as everyone was leaving, I remembered I’d wanted to offer aura photographs via a little app I’d gotten for my phone quite a few months ago… I would not really place a lot of stock into its authenticness, but it was really fun and actually surprisingly on target!

After everyone left, I headed back down to the woods with my husband and daughter. We went on a spontaneous ramble through the woods and made many cool discoveries that I will have to write about in a later post…

stepping out on an adventure…

Categories: community, friends, nature, prayers, priestess, ritual, spirituality, womanspirit, women, women's circle, woodspriestess | Leave a comment

Thursday Thealogy: Making a Place for Others

Posted on March 28, 2013 by Molly

I went to the woods intending to take a picture of the setting sun, but I’d accidentally hit the reverse-image button, so my own face was looking at me instead. So, I thought…that’s most real!

“…in listening you become an opening for that other person…Indeed, nothing comes close to an evening spent spellbound by the stories of women’s inner lives.”–Sacred Circles

This morning my attention was caught by this blog post’s exploration of becoming most real:

Becoming most real means becoming aware of what we are doing and feeling all the time. It means noticing not only our imagined or desired reality —the one we’re cooking up in our mind to soothe our discomforts and fears — but also the reality that actually exists, the one that is most real…

[during a stressful experience]…But then I asked, “What is most real?”

I noticed that I was feeling tense and stressed. That I knew already. But I also noticed that I was struggling to change things, trying to force myself to feel relaxed. And that was the key. Because then I went from being lost in the struggle to being aware of the struggle. I went from identifying with the struggling to identifying with my deeper self that sees the struggle. For a moment I was grounded in the unflickering flame of my true self. For a moment I achieved the very aim of yoga.

You can practice being most real by asking yourself, “What am I trying to feel right now, and what am I actually feeling right now?” These two are related: What you are trying to feel right now, or more specifically, the fact that you are trying, is what you are actually doing; it is most real. Most real is not the state you are trying to achieve but the state you are in. That’s where you’ll find the greatest vitality, peace, and happiness.

via Misadventures of a Garden State Yogi (book review).

I’m three quarters of the way through a year-long OSC class based on the book Twelve Steps to a Compassionate Life. We’re examining and practicing compassion to ourselves and in personal relationships, community relationships, and to non-humans. The subject of the sixth month was, “making a place for others.” What does this mean? The author explains…

I began to notice how seldom we “make place for the other” in social interaction. All too often people impose their own experience and beliefs on acquaintances and events, making hurtful, inaccurate, and dismissive snap judgments, not only about individuals but about whole cultures. It often becomes clear, when questioned more closely, that their actual knowledge of the topic under discussion could comfortably be contained on a small postcard. Western society is highly opinionated. Our airwaves are clogged with talk shows, phone-ins, and debates in which people are encouraged to express their views on a wide variety of subjects. This freedom of speech is precious, of course, but do we always know what we are talking about?

Armstrong, Karen (2010-12-28). Twelve Steps to a Compassionate Life (Kindle Locations 1476-1481). Random House, Inc.. Kindle Edition.

Previously used in: Plucking out the heart of mystery

I spent all month working with this idea and very often, I suck at it. One of the roles of a priestess is to hold the space for others, and I do find I am able to do that in a ceremony environment and also in a support group setting, but it pretty much ends there. This isn’t really new for me, when I worked in battered women’s shelters, I remember coming home and being aware I was monopolizing the airspace with my husband and saying, “I spend so much time listening to other people and their pain, that then when I get home I just need a space too and I no longer feel like I can give it to anyone else.” So, I feel as if my closest family members rarely get to experience my ability to hold a space for others, because they’re sort of forced into that role for me instead.

I’m really feeling exhausted this week. Worn out and beaten down. Incapable of keeping up. Dropping balls. Forgetting things. Having to leave things undone, unreplied to, unfinished, let go. Bad mother, bad wife, bad friend, bad person. I know from past experience that this isn’t a permanent feeling. It is directly related to not enough time at home alone and too much outward directed energy with no time to refuel and recollect my energy. Next week looks much the same. Some of it is self-imposed. A lot of it is related to other people’s expectations of me (or perceived expectations). I keep feeling as if I’m making the wrong choices, doing the wrong things, letting myself get scattered and fragmented and overwhelmed and panicky. And, as I write it all out, I then feel like I can see how my thinking is disordered and I feel judged.

What’s been on my mind today is listening to other people; making a place for others. I’ve been thinking about seeing and being seen, hearing and being heard, knowing and being known. About witnessing each other. But, is there really any way to see and to truly be seen or is it all so filtered through our own lenses and our own interpretations of experience that we all just bump around into each other’s “ice cubes” rather than actually connecting? (See Charlotte Joko Beck for the “ice cube” thing.) I’m such a self-monitor, the watching of myself becomes painful, and I feel inauthentic or critical of my own responses and being. I want to be able to connect authentically, to reach out and engage with others deeply, to have the same sense of understanding of other people as I have of myself and this patch of earth I live on. Today, in the woods I thought: this is just all so relentless. And, then I thought: yes, it IS relentless. Life is relentless. That is what makes it beautiful. I sometimes feel as if I’m becoming more and more distant and disconnected from people even as “connection” takes a prominent position in my thealogy and my values, and yet it feels so hard, and I feel so tired. And I want for everyone to get along and I want for everyone to be friends and I want for everyone to understand each other, I want for everyone to be seen and to be heard and to be known. I want this for myself and for others and yet, I can’t do it. Sometimes I feel separated from others by glass. The way I share my own feelings and taste my own experiences is through the written word. Companionship lately ends up making me want to run away (again, I know logically that this isn’t actually true, it is symptom of not having the two hours to myself that I need. Once I have some two hours I’ll be back and not at the verge of tears all of the time anymore). I want to separate right now. Separate so that I can write about connection…

What is real?

Sun on its way down.
I had a weird moment here in which I laid my head on my knee, where my phone was resting–both my eyes were open and because one of them was looking at the reflection of the trees/sky in the shiny front of the phone and the other was actually looking at the ground, it was like I could see the trees and sky superimposed on the leaves/rocks and it was very surreal. Since I was writing about perception and thinking, again, about subjective experience, it seemed like a fitting moment–one I wished it was possible to photograph too!

Feel your breath
feel your pulse
notice the butterfly
watch the hawk
hear the spring peepers
witness the sunset
listen for howling
give thanks for that relentless, hot, hunger
that fuels you
celebrate your own passion
and your refusal to stop trying
feel tears prick your eyes
feel tiredness sweep your body.
wind in your hair
life at your back and at your shoulders
hope on your lips
love is in your hands…

I can’t make a place for others unless I’m willing to make a place for myself.

Categories: family, friends, introversion, nature, Thursday Thealogy, women's circle, woodspriestess | 3 Comments

Woodspriestess: Dawn to Dusk

Posted on March 27, 2013 by Molly

Darkness falls
entering sacred space
stepping from holy ground
to holy ground.
Recognize it.

Owl calls
moon rises
sun sets
small dog sits
leaves rustle
heart beats
blood flows
breathing in
breathing out…

Feeling the world spin
feeling the earth turn.
Watching her weaving at work
in the night.

(12/26/12)

This morning I experienced another woodsfirst. Sunrise. We are late risers usually and I believe this was the first time (even after living here for eight years) that I’ve seen a slice of sunrise from this place in the woods. I couldn’t stay long and it wasn’t that impressive, but I saw it, and it was another new moment in an ever-changing, ever-surprising, familiar place.

After I left, I got this great idea—I’d go back and take a picture at sunset too and, and…also when the moon was rising! Wouldn’t that be a cool series…Sunrise, Sunset, Moonrise, I’d call the post, maybe I’d even have one of those cool moments in which the moon is coming up and the sun is going down and there is a delicious sunsetmoonrise in a Neapolitan sky. Well, since the woods always has lessons for me and they parallel that of the rest of life, that was not actually what happened. We were gone all day taking our youngest to a pediatric dentist out-of-town and then doing some other things while in the city. When we got home, I knew sunset was coming soon, but I let the best moment slip by me while distracted by “catching up” and by the time I went back out, there was nothing visible from the woodsplace any longer—I don’t know that there ever would have been tonight though, because the sky was pretty overcast and the sun sets on the opposite side of the priestess rocks (which face sunrise), so what I usually am able to see in the sky is any long fingers of pink that paint their way along the horizon. And, then, my phone was out of photo storage and I had to stand there annoying myself by deleting pictures instead of watching the remaining trace of sunset from the place out in the field instead in which I could actually see it…

the last bit!

And, then it was way too cloudy to even see the full moon at all, let alone get a sunsetmoonrise type of moment! So, I mined my old recordings for another moonrise night and included my words from that night instead. And, I had a full moon over the greenhouse picture from the same time in December as well…

I did see the full moon last night on my way home from my class and it was gorgeous 🙂 I’m still writing and posting and noticing anyway, even though it isn’t perfect (or even particularly interesting and certainly not what I’d imagined writing about) and as this 30 day experiment comes to close, I do have an overall sense of satisfaction about the process. Being “forced” to write every day is an experience in and of itself. Challenging myself to look closer and see more has been very rewarding. Going ahead and posting anyway, even if I’d expected something different or wanted to do more, or am afraid I’m being boring, or have to rush a little or leave something out or scramble to finish before midnight, or don’t have any striking insights to offer…that is a practice too, and I’ve learned a lot from it.

Categories: family, nature, theapoetics, woodspriestess | Leave a comment

Woodspriestess: Change

Posted on March 26, 2013 by Molly

Tiny change may be invisible
but impactful just the same
the sun emerging from behind a cloud
a bonewind stilling for a minute
shadows marking the ground
clouds drifting
bird song
rooster call
snow melting
ice dripping
breath moving

in and out…

There’s something in most of us that longs for some kind of solid core. Something to return to. Something to come home to. Something to rest in. Yet if the only constant is change, and you can never step in the same river twice, perhaps it is similarly unrealistic to expect to a steady core in personality or personhood. Or is there…

The river on my way home. This is the one that floods my road sometimes and that I can hear rushing from the woods.

Breathing in,
breathing out.
Heart pulsing.
Lungs moving.
Watching.
Waiting.
Listening.
Hoping.
Praying.
Noticing.
Becoming.

Clouds cover sun
shadows fade to earth
airplane crosses broad sky
trees stand steady
My heart keeps beating
I breathe in
and out.

One of the things that has struck me repeatedly about my woodspractice is the constantness of change. Today, I had to look hard for it at first. I actually a sense of, “same old, same old,” when I first stepped out onto the rocks and thought that I couldn’t see anything new or different, but then I did notice and I did see. And, it is incredible how everything keeps moving, evolving, changing, adapting. It also surprises me, but maybe it shouldn’t, that later in the day my mom often accidentally brings up the very topic that was on my mind during my woodsvisit. Today we spoke about the changing texture of friendships and relationships and I thought about what I’d just thought about…that we may expect this “core” from people, that may not actually exist. Or does it, truly at some level? I don’t know.

Today I noticed the coming and going of shadows on the ground.

Kwan Yin at the chiropractor’s office earlier today.

Categories: introversion, nature, woodspriestess | Leave a comment

Woodspriestess: Bonewind

Posted on March 25, 2013 by Molly

Winter chill
bone wind
settling in
sinking deep

Biting
frosty air
cold stone
bone wind.

(2/6/13)

This surprising second winter continues. The ground is snow-covered. The air is frosty. When I went to the woods this afternoon, I thought of some bonewind observations from some cold days last month. Yesterday, when I went to the woods it was snowing sharply enough that I couldn’t face forward on the rocks, but had to turn to the side, to keep cold snow from hitting me straight in the face. I finished a variety of new sculptures this weekend, but I knew it would be too cold to photograph all of them, so I just brought down a couple. I made two new figures with rocks. As I’ve said before, I don’t do this often, just when the rock seems “given” to me. The smaller white stone was laying out on the moss like a gift when I went out to take a picture of my first Crone sculpture. It caught my eye because the rock has a “foot” that looks like it is stepping out/stepping forward and I thought again of my reader commenting on needing a sculpture of a Crone going back to school—so, when I made this one, that is what I was thinking of. She’s casting off things she no longer needs, she’s gathering her energy at her core, she’s finding her balance, and she’s stepping out into a new direction 🙂

I didn’t plan it this way, but it ends up that the two new rock goddesses look like they could hold hands.

And, I’ll write more specifically about these later, but my little girl was asking and asking me to make a “Daddy Goddess” for her the last time I was making sculptures. So, I did. When I showed my husband, I said, “this is a different spin on a Trinity,” and he said, “and it is one that actually makes sense.” I was pleased with them.

Categories: art, nature, sculpture, spirituality, woodspriestess | 1 Comment

Woodspriestess: Breathing Meditation

Posted on March 23, 2013 by Molly

Hand on heart
hand on womb
body’s center.

Breathing in…
peace
stillness
softness
receptivity.

Breathing out…
tension
stress
anxiety
overwhelm.

Breathing in
breathing out.
Feeling the present moment
settle around me

Each breath
a gift of renewal
each breath
a gift of refreshment
each breath
an offering.

Breathing with compassion
breathing with love
breathing with strength
breathing with grace
breathing with hope.

My body softens
and expands
heart open
hands relax.

I give what I have to give
I am what I am
I feel what I feel
I know what I know.

One hand on my heart
one hand on my womb
resting in wholeness
within me
and around me.

I give
and I receive
with every breath
intimately interconnected
with the land around me
and the heartbeat of the Earth…

As I sat in the woods today, I noticed how cold it was outside. The rock I sat on was cold and slightly damp, there was ice on the dry leaves. I had to get out a hat and gloves and put them on in addition to my coat. I could hear an engine revving in the distance. As I looked out at the horizon, it started to rain very, very lightly, not enough to be disturbing or to actually make me damp, but a steady pattering just the same. I focused on my breathing and watched the trees.

—

For the concluding sections of the breathing meditation, if reading aloud to a group, replace “I” and “my” with “you” and “your”…

Your body softens
and expands
heart open
hands relax

You give what you have to give
You are what you are
You feel what you feel
you know what you know

One hand on your heart
one hand on your womb
resting in wholeness
within you
and around you

You give
and you receive
with every breath
intimately interconnected
with the land around you
and the heartbeat of the Earth…

Categories: blessings, embodiment, nature, readings, theapoetics, woodspriestess | Leave a comment

Woodspriestess: Spring Snow

Posted on March 22, 2013 by Molly

The planet is an unimaginably intricate ecosystem

of interdependent majesty

and fundamental holiness

like a snow blanketed spring day…

One of the primary benefits of this daily practice is the opportunity to mindfully observe the daily changes occurring in the “same” place. It is amazing to me how I have yet to run out of opportunities to make a new observation, notice something different, or to take a new picture, even though I’m visiting the same patch of ground every. single. day. Today, the most noticeable event was last night’s snowfall. It is interesting that it took passing the first day of spring for us finally to have enough snow to build a snowman this year!

Cold trees

During last summer’s drought, I vowed never to complain about rain again. In my own worries about climate change, I also vowed not to complain about snow. It makes me happy to see it, even when it is a pain, because we’re supposed to have snow. No snow, while easier to drive in, feels worrisome and wrong.

However, it also feels weird that just the other day I was watching the insects buzz around the budding maples and my kids were wearing shorts, and then today I took several pictures of fallen buds (and, I noticed the rock has an “8” on it)…

I became mildly obsessed with taking pictures of the fallen little buds of spring that I’d noticed and photographed last week.

Birds sing
snow falls
Earth turns towards spring
and then reverses
cold surprise
chill
still
quiet white morning

This place is an ever-changing miracle
of life and creation…

Categories: nature, woodspriestess | Leave a comment

Woodspriestess: Spring

Posted on March 20, 2013 by Molly

Spring
what are we leaping towards
what wants to push up from cold ground
what wants to open to the sun
what is it that we need to know

What quiet, steady pulse beats
below the surface
what hope watches from the wings
what light grows broad
upon a patch of ground

Shedding
releasing
changing
renewing
growing
healing
springing

Letting go
leaving behind
casting off
sloughing
opening…

What expectations need we shed? What old thoughts need to leave our minds? What habitual patterns of behavior, relationship, and communication need to change? It is easy to be centered when you sit in the woods alone. The challenge is to carry that core into the unrelenting murmur of everyday life. The challenge is to reach for that place of inner stillness, even when it feels as if chaos reigns. Perhaps the challenge is to return to the place that heals my soul every single day even when the to-do list gets longer, the have-tos, the should-dos, the want-tos. Those things can be shut up for a minute and I can step forward onto dry leaves, solid earth, and steady rock. I can rest for a moment in the calm stillness that sings through these woods in harmony with the call of my own heart and the center of my own being. Find it here, find it now. Know that the potential is always within me and the place remains for me to return and return and return….

Spring
cast off
lay down
renew
release.

Emerge
perhaps cautiously
perhaps tenderly
but pushing forth
into full blossom

Know that stillness
in the midst of swirl
is possible
movement is constant
and so is quiet

She places her hands on both
and on her own heart…

Today began as another crappy day in what has been a string of crappy days. I awoke with a headache…again…the last time I remember NOT having a headache was in January. Lots of phone calls, lots of things not working out right, kids out of sorts, etc., etc. In the late afternoon, my kids went to visit my parents (who were having their own crappy day, so bless them for still helping me out!). After spending a half an hour on the phone, again, making a doctor’s appointment for my daughter as a prelude to her oral surgery appointment next month, I lit out for the woods. When I came back, I made tea. And, I decided that rather than immediately jump into preparing for my classes that begin next week, that I would take 15 minutes to listen to a shamanic journeying track. My best tips about “successful” journeying are to first look for a hole of some kind and actively go into it and that actively starting the journey off is okay. I used to think I shouldn’t try to “make” anything happen, just wait and see what happens, but then I read that journeying is 80% spontaneous and 20% created and that is okay. People will say, “how do I know if I’m really just making the whole thing up?” The answer is, so what if you are? It still means something. It is fascinating to watch my own brain work though once it gets going and to see how hard it becomes to continue to actively “control” the journey once it finds its own direction.

I went into a hole in a tree and ended up walking down a tree-lined road. In the past, I’ve always descended into caves, it is usually night, and it is in the woods with a bonfire and people dancing/drumming. This time, regardless of how I tried to pull my brain back to the familiar dark cave, start to the journey, I was on a road, headed to a city instead. It was a bright, sunny day and in a Central Park type area of bright green grass surrounded by a white city skyline, a woman is dancing with a tambourine. There is a white tent-like temple structure with a big gold ball on top and red carpet spilling out onto the green grass. I try to make the tent red like a Red Tent, but it stays white. I go into the temple and am greeted by a priestess who tells me it is okay to rest and that I am taken care of. She moves her hood back and she is me. I lie down and other women come in and massage my back and feet. I then saw—ack for the Whovians among us—a stone angel and she started crying. I think I dozed off for a minute then and when I woke up, the drums were done and my headache was also gone…

On Facebook today the following caught my eye:

This is how we DARE to have a grassroots movement. Come on women. Let’s raise these temples up. 30 states and 6 countries! If there is not one near you, it is waiting for you to start it! Let’s work together.

What is at risk for you to be the creative, alive force of love that you were born to be? What holds you back? What every day lies coerce you not to fly high and even stay lowly in a place that betrays everything your soul is beckoning you to be? This is the moment. This is the life. This is the breath. No one can take the action you are waiting and waiting and waiting to take but you, even when others have told you “yes you can” and “no you cannot.” You decide. A thousand years from now will anyone remember you? Likely not even in a hundred. So why not? Be the daring unrecorded history that mattered because you lived. (emphasis mine)

—ALisa Starkweather Red Tent Temple Movement

—

This is my 100th blog post on this blog! (I’m pushing 800 on my other blog) Last night when I published the 99th post, I noticed I also had 99 comments (and it was 11:59 on the 19th. And, I have 91 followers [not very impressive, but this is still a new blog. And, I appreciate every one of them!]). So, it would feel fun to get my 100th comment on my 100th post…who wants the honor? 🙂

Categories: nature, poems, retreat, spirituality, theapoetics, womanspirit, woodspriestess | 2 Comments

Woodspriestess: She is Crone

Posted on March 19, 2013 by Molly

Crone
Wise woman
Sage woman
Grandmother

Her cloak of many colors
Is woven from the threads
Of a million stories
Part of the fiber of her being

Her righteous anger is carried
In the soles of her feet
No longer apologetic
She walks with purpose

Like water upon rock
Time has made its mark
Left its patterns on her body
Carved her away
To her most essential self

Around her waist she gathers
Her girdle of power
She holds her wise blood
Her cells imprinted
With the memories and potential
Of a thousand generations
Children have written upon her body
And she carries it well

These breasts have fed
The world
These shoulders have borne
Heavy burdens
These hips have cradled infants
Have carried children
And danced with friends and lovers

She who changes
She cannot be pinned down
Her multicolored cloak
Shifts its pattern in the breeze
Carrying the voices
And the wisdom of the years

She wraps her cloak of stories around her
Scoops up dreams with wide arms
Tilts her face to the sky
Whispers a blessing on the wind

She picks up her staff of memory
She sings the song of experience
And she takes another step
In the river of time…

I hoped to have more time to write tonight and to expand my thoughts on the Crone. I’ve been wanting to make a new sculpture ever since a reader posted and asked if I’ve ever made a Crone sculpture for someone going back to school. I’m also on the Crone lesson in my Triple Goddess class at OSC, a class that encourages explorations of the triple goddess archetypes through creative expression rather than more academic discourse (the academic discourse came in the Introduction to Thealogy class—the hardest class I’ve had so far!). Late last night after I had such a sucky day, I picked up a rock off the bookshelf and went to toss it outside because it didn’t belong there. It had been colored on by children and had a little face on it and scales. As I held it though and realized it could be stood on edge, I found one remaining scrap of clay in my almost empty box and I made my Crone. Her cloak is supposed to be a bit like butterfly wings, thinking of the menopause metamorphosis described in Women’s Rites of Passage. I purposely left the child-drawn monster face on the bottom exposed, because, she has been written upon by children, was the first line to come to mind when I saw that. And, it makes me smile, because it is like her little secret.

As I worked on her I kept singing…

Old and strong

She goes on and on and on…

Then, tonight I got some bad news about my own grandmother and it made me think that perhaps I’d actually been writing and sculpting for her without knowing it yet.

And, finally, in the not-too-understood augurs from the woods, I found these stones lined up just like this went I went down to the woods to take photos of my Crone. Kind of a Triple Goddess right there, right?!

Categories: art, nature, poems, readings, sculpture, theapoetics, woodspriestess | 3 Comments

Woodspriestess: Permission

Posted on March 18, 2013 by Molly

Release
let go
open
flow

be present
be still
be centered

retreat
withdraw
pull back
draw in
turn away
fold up
close

cocoon
center

become quiet
become still

Rest in the sensation
that soaring on this breath
is enough.

Today was a long day and a hard day. I had to let go of things I’d expected to have time to do. I had to release expectations. And, I had to accept information that I didn’t want. I went to the woods twice today, the first time before taking my toddler to the dentist and the second after we returned. I had a powerful sense that I just wanted permission. Permission to not do anything else today.

Heartbreak of tooth decay sculpture from fall of last year–mama covers head, not wanting to know and yet holding both baby and the extracted teeth. At her heart is a jewel, because she acts with deep love.

no obligations

rest
just rest
lay on the couch with a book
read
think
imagine

permission to quit for a minute
permission to stop
permission to get off the spinning wheel
permission to say no thanks
permission to say no
permission to say I changed my mind
permission to say I don’t want to
permission not to finish
permission not to do
permission to take a break

draw in
quiet down
listen deep
fold up

My little sculpture helper!

right now is a time to be still
to rest and self-nurture
to snuggle with cuddly babies
sniff heads
lay on a husband’s shoulder
be needy
be nurtured
and receive

draw in
draw closed
retreat
recollect
call your spirit back
and emerge once more
with strength

On the first woods visit in an effort to distract myself from the later appointment, I took some new sculptures down to the rocks to photograph and bless before shipping.

Cesarean and VBAC mamas.

On my second visit to the woods I watched two hawks flying. They swung back and forth through the sky for a period of time and then flew away.

Permission not to write any more tonight.

Permission granted!

Categories: family, nature, poems, prayers, retreat, theapoetics, womanspirit, woodspriestess | Leave a comment

Sunday Sabbath: Revolution

Posted on March 18, 2013 by Molly

“We need rituals of memory…because a political movement, the public policy and tactics of our movement, does not come from our ideas, but from the bloody and joyful substance of our lives. We need to be conscious about what our lives have been, to grieve and to honor our strength, in order to break out of the past into the future.” –Minnie Bruce Pratt

“I believe the lasting revolution comes from deep changes in ourselves which influence our collective life.” –Anais Nin

“I want a women’s revolution like a lover. I lust for it. I want so much this freedom, this end to struggle and fear and lies we all exhale, that I could die just with the passionate uttering of that desire.” –Robin Morgan

“To dance is to reach for a world that doesn’t exist,
To sing the heartsong of a thousand generations,
To feel the meaning of a moment in time.”

– Beth Jones

Social change has been on my mind a LOT lately. Ever since I wrote about human trafficking in a post for Pagan Families, I’ve been consumed with and disturbed by the seemingly endless human atrocities around the world every day, often against women and children, but against men as well. I’ve handled it both by writing about it and by acting.

I recently became a regular contributor to the Feminism and Religion blog, which is humbling because the women there all seem so smart and I worry about not measuring up! In my first post as an official contributor rather than a guest, I continued to wrestle with my questions about the value of women’s circles and about one’s ability to “change the world”: Do Women’s Circles Actually Matter? I was again both humbled and proud (do those two work together?!) to see the post getting a lot of shares on Facebook today thanks to Journey of Young Women sharing a photo, poem, and link to the post.

And, I kept talking about this changing the world stuff on Pagan Families as well: Hold to the vision…

Finally, I was amazed, inspired, and awe-struck by the beautiful mothers that I have the privilege to help and so I wrote some stuff for them too:

International Women’s Day: Mama, You’re Amazing!

International Women’s Day: Prayer for Mothers

“In the heart of the Goddess nests the world
and within it
something beautiful is incubating
waiting
watching
resting
knowing that change will crack it open…*”

–Molly Remer

I went to the woods quickly before I left for town today. It rained heavily all night and the woods were heavy and wet. As I stood there, I kept hearing the sound of rushing water and thought perhaps I could hear the river running. But, I decided it couldn’t be the river, too far away and plus, how full could it be after one night of rain? I sometimes think I can hear a river from our back deck as well and usually decide it is the wind in the trees or perhaps distant highway traffic noise.

However, then when I went to leave for town this is the sight that greeted me!

This is a usually dry river bed crossing. I rarely see the water high enough that a whole chunk of road is covered too. No wonder I heard rushing! I was on my way to a mother blessing ceremony and had to back up and take the long way into town.

I have a specific birth bracelet that I usually wear to mother blessings and so it was one of my pictures for today 🙂 (I also note my horribly dry winter skin. Need lotion, stat!)

The ceremony was a really lovely one for a special mama who has been on a long, difficult journey during this pregnancy. It was truly beautiful to spend the afternoon in sacred space with my friends. As our project following the ceremony and potluck, we painted stones for the honoree to use to line a flower garden path. Paint is not my medium, but I tried…

“She’s turning her life into something sacred: Each breath a new birth. Each moment, a new chance. She bows her head, gathers her dreams from a pure, deep stream and stretches her arms toward the sky.” –Monique Duval

—

P.S. Dang! I really wrote this on Sunday, March 17 (well, most of it was actually written in advance on the 16th to allow me the digital sabbath today), but then when I did the final edit (finally finding the author to the above quote!) and hit publish, it had just passed midnight and says it was posted on the 18th. I’m not going to consider this a strike against my posting-every-day experiment…

Categories: sabbath, womanspirit, women's circle, woodspriestess, writing | Leave a comment

Woodspriestess: Sensory

Posted on March 16, 2013 by Molly

The chair rock has a couple of nice little “shelf” nook on the side of it. I’m always tempted to leave things on it, but I make a habit of not leaving things in or (usually) taking things from the woods. Sometimes I set something on the shelf just during the time that I am out there.

Breathe deep
Breathe peace

Open hands
Open heart
Open mind
Open spirit

This is both my prayer
And my vow

Resting in sheltering stone
Listening to bird song
Feeling the breeze
Seeing the trees against sky
Tasting the very center of life.

A thealogy of embodiment is the subject of my dissertation, so I was very interested to read the Allergic Pagan’s smart and thought-provoking follow-up post to his thoughts about objectivity. He draws the conclusion that it is the body that bridges the gap between the subjective and objective. While I focused on subjective experience and the Goddess in my prior post about objectivity, I actually do find that the Goddess can be interpreted/understood through science as well—some people call it evolution, others call it Goddess and others call it God…subjective experience need not exclude scientific concepts/understanding. As in my breastmilk example from that post, I can understand the experience both objectively and subjectively and, just as John notes, this intersection occurs within the body. I also believe theapoetical language can include both as well. I’m going to explore the question of the place of the God within thealogy in my Thursday Thealogy post next week. I tend to come from the notion that Goddess holds all—and, that Goddess-language is simply a consciously chosen name for unnameable forces of life, the weaving that holds the world, a weaving including but not limited to females and males of all kinds.

Today, rather than standing or sitting on the priestess rocks, I visited the chair rock instead. It is super comfortable and I used to come here to sit after my miscarriages and then during my pregnancy with my daughter and then this is where I brought her one-month-old self to introduce her to the Earth. I used to sit here with her in a pouch or the Ergo and feel our bodies breathing in harmony, chest to chest.

The scenery looks different when considered from the chair rock rather than the priestess rocks. Here is a “slingshot” tree” and behind the big mother tree that I like so much (and that I keep hoping is still alive!)

As I’ve previously referenced, Gloria Orenstein refers to endarkenment as, “a bonding with the Earth and the invisible that will reestablish our sense of interconnectedness with all things, phenomenal and spiritual, that make up the totality of our life in our cosmos. The ecofeminist arts do not maintain that analytical, rational knowledge is superior to other forms of knowing. They honor Gaia’s Earth intelligence and the stored memories of her plants, rocks, soil, and creatures. Through nonverbal communion with the energies of sacred sites in nature, ecofeminist artists obtain important knowledge about the spirit of the land, which they can then honor through creative rituals and environmental pieces” (Reweaving the World, p. 280). This speaks to me because of my theapoetical experiences of the presence of “the Goddess” in my own sacred spot in the woods behind my house, where I go to the priestess rocks to pray, reflect, meditate, do ritual, think, and converse with the spirits of that place.

Categories: embodiment, endarkenment, family, feminist thealogy, Goddess, nature, pregnancy loss, spirituality, thealogy, theapoetics, womanspirit, woodspriestess | 1 Comment

Woodspriestess: Sacrificial

Posted on March 15, 2013 by Molly

Sacrificial stone.
What do I wish to lie down
to cast off
to let go of
to be done with

What in my own life needs to be
pruned away
cut back
restructured
reshaped

This beautiful place in the woods
that holds me so deeply
that I love so well
could also kill me
these trees
tall and supple
can fall and crush
these rocks
firm, supportive and unyielding
can crack a skull
the air
blowing and caressing
can become tornadic
the sun
bright and beautiful
can scorch and obliterate

So many sacrifices
so much growth
so much change

It is never the same here
never boring
never stop paying attention
and the trees make patterns on blue sky
with thin, fingers of branches

Sacrificial stone.
What is left
when everything I don’t need
is cut away

It is beautifully warm today and I went down to the woods with an eye toward spotting signs of spring. I carried a book with me, imagining that I might lie out there for a while and read, but I set the book aside. It isn’t really a place for reading. It is place for paying attention. There is a rock that is particularly good for lying on and so I laid on my back and looked up at the skies and trees. While I like doing that, it always makes me think sacrificial stone and then I feel a little weird and “laid out.” So, today I ran with that phrase instead of hopping away to something else.

I also noticed high up in one of the trees, there appears to be growth or buds of some kind, almost like tiny flowers, and there were a lot of insects hovering around it. I though it was a sycamore tree because of the color and the bark, but squinting up at those high up, far away flowers, I think it is really a maple tree. There are a lot of very small maples in the woods, so it would be consistent. This year I plan to pay better attention to what kind of trees there are in this little grove.

On the small tulip poplar right before I enter the woods, I paused to take a photo of its scarred trunk. The first year we planted it strong winds split it down the middle. My husband taped it together with black electric tape, which I did not think would work, and yet it totally knitted back together and is totally fine. We are stronger in our broken places.

And, it finally feels like time to share my very best, favorite quote about rocks:

Rocks are very slow and have sat around from the beginning, developing powers…Rocks can show you what you are going to become. They show you lost and forgotten things.

–Agnes Whistling Elk to Lynn Andrews (quoted in Carol Christ’s essay in Reweaving the World, pg. 69)

In the same essay, Carol Christ then goes on to explain:

The Great Spirit of the Native Americans is linked to the spirits of all beings, including rocks… Susan Griffin writes, ‘Behind naming, beneath words, is something else. An existence named, unnamed, and unnameable.’ There is a human tendency to name this unnameable with personal language, to believe that it cares as we care. I imagine, but I do not know, that the universe has an intelligence, a Great Spirit, that it cares as we care. I imagine that all that is cares. Sometimes I feel that I hear the universe weeping or laughing, speaking to me. But I do not know. What I do know is that whether the universe has a center of consciousness or not, the sight of a field of flowers in the color purple, the rainbow, must be enough to stop us from destroying all that is and wants to be.

: Dog on the rocks

: Took a picture over my shoulder and behind behind my head

: Tiny sage vallantly coming up!

: Tree with little buds attracting insects.

: Rosebush needing pruning.

: More trees!

: Shadow self

: Scarred and sturdy

Categories: nature, poems, theapoetics, woodspriestess | 1 Comment

Woodspriestess: Surrender?

Posted on March 13, 2013 by Molly

What a sweet, snuggly face.

Surrender…
open up
open wide
surrender
let go…

Is this just another word for
quitting
for giving up?
or is it the type of
intensely powerful surrender
that is required to give birth?
a surrender that is so mighty
and so potent
it is experienced only rarely

That surrender
is that which I can draw
strength from
that surrender
is the pinnacle of my own power
my own magnificence
my own embodied potency
of being
it is that surrender
that motherhood requires

and I have proven
I am up for the challenge.

This morning I struggled a lot with what my kids needed from me and with the other projects I was trying to finish. My boys had planned a party and overnight with a couple of friends for today and I knew when I got up that the clock was ticking in terms of me having any quiet time to work and think. I kept becoming blocked and frustrated and questions and needs were thick in the air. I was trying to pack up orders and bake brownies and do laundry and finish a DVD review and I hadn’t taken a shower yet, and, and, and… As I walked down to the woods carrying my youngest child with me, a word floated through my head…surrender. Part of me thought “oh, yeah! Good idea!” the other part of me thought, “that is just a sneaky way of saying, be a quitter.” So, that’s the concept I reflected on in the woods today. I took a couple more pictures and thought it was somehow appropriate that once in that space with a child, it is that child who dominates my “field of vision” so to speak. That is basically what kids do to your life!

What I recognized was that I needed to stop…just for a while…and focus on what those around me needed from the day. When I try to “do it all” anyway, I get frustrated and discouraged. If I can have the presence of mind to release for a while, we’re all happier. Part of what was hard for me was anticipating the expenditure of energy I knew today would require from me, having people in the house all day and the chaos and the mess. So, I snuggled with my baby and said…

Gathering strength
for the day

open hands
soft eyes
soft shoulders
smooth face
open hands
open heart
open home

I breathe deep
and let go

preparing to give
to be outward directed today
to put other work on hold
to enjoy my friends
to celebrate my children
to laugh with my company

knowing
that the deep, still
inner place
of rest and rejuvenation
with be there for renewal
when I need it.

I already wrote about this temporary surrender several years ago, so it isn’t a new insight, but it was a good one to revisit. I also spotted another forked stick “augur.” The rock has a nice spot of druzy quartz on it. It was cold today, but nice and sunny. Later when we walked in the evening, the moon was a bright, clear sliver and you could see the shadowy rest of the moon resting in its curve.