Outraged Ancestral Mother
fill my veins
with your singingSweep me up.
Stir my passion
until I might be worthy
of your chorus
of enraged beauty.Embed your
call for action
in my feet
that I may never again
walk in thoughtlessness
or inattention
each step
becoming
a beat of your drum.I will howl with you
in the hurricane’s roar
and the tornado’s furyI will crack my lightning
and split my life open
gaze at the red pomegranate seeds within
and I will eat
Knowing that some part of me
will belong in the underworld
forever.Lash the remainder of my heart
to hope
bind my heartstrings
around destiny
and open my throat
that I might bellow
on the winds
of change
and inspiration…
woodspriestess
Woodspriestess: Outraged Ancestral Mother Prayer
Categories: Goddess, invocations, nature, poems, prayers, spirituality, theapoetics, womanspirit, woodspriestess
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Woodspriestess: The Outraged Ancestral Mother
The Outraged Ancestral Mother
has awoken
she howls through canyons
claws away insecurities and doubts
and stomps illusions into dust.She rattles hailstones
on rooftops
and whips the seas into
a froth of fury.She dances the wind
into hurricanes
and she kindles
a wildfire
saying
watch out
it burns
pay attention.She uproots trees
with her storming
thunders leaves, branches, and houses
down around your ears
crying wake up.She screeches
on the winds
her voice becoming
a tornado
Swirling madcap
down the corridor
of time.She lifts a chalice
of armadillo skin and whale bone
and she cries out
for change.In the howl of outrage
and sweep of fury
in the crackle
of iced lightning
in the waves
which crest
against the shore
and drag
you out to sea.In the ferocious beauty
of her howling dance
we glimpse the sun-heart
of love
sharp-edged
ragged
hot
slicing through
the veils
that shroud our thinkingWe step through
and join her dance
raising our voices
in the chorus
of her song.Draping a necklace of skulls
around our throats
and drumming
a wake up call
to our sisters and brothers.Arise!
The Outraged Ancestral Mother
calls your name
Your blood is on her teeth
she tastes your fears
and your courage…
Yesterday, we did a double-session of our Rise Up and Call Her Name class. In the second of the day’s sessions: “We honor the Outraged Ancestral Mother and the belief that the sacred and secular are one” (The Female Divine in All Her Glorious Shapes, Colors and Sounds). I was caught by the idea of the Outraged Ancestral Mother and we spent some time discussing her and the degree to which humanity has hurt our planet. This morning while I was practicing yoga, snippets of this new poem came floating to my mind. I had the distinct feeling that the Outraged Ancestral Mother was ready to speak to me. So, I went down to the woods to listen to what she had to say. It was different from the kinds of things I usually write and think about and the tone was more aggressive and harsh—I surprised myself!
A note regarding the armadillo skin chalice: Ever since giving birth to my first child almost ten years ago, I have a strong reaction to roadkill, primarily centered around the maternal experience—that was someone’s BABY! She worked so hard for that life. Recently, while driving to town I saw an armadillo being picked over by crows on the road, its body becoming a hollowed out shell or rind almost. I’ve been in a pretty bad mood lately and in addition to my usual thoughts about poor babies, I also began to have depressing existential musings about what is the whole point anyway. We can all just be roadkill, nothing cares about us. Our bloody guts could be splattered across the road tomorrow and the Earth wouldn’t miss us. We are not loved by the Goddess/Universe or by anything else—we’re just roadkill. And, then, I had a vision—a dark robed Crone Goddess figure holding the armadillo shell aloft, fully cleaned out and empty and raising it to her lips as if to drink. At this point I realized, nothing is wasted. Everything is recycled. Everything is used. Every part matters, always.
My new phone has a panoramic option!
Categories: death, endarkenment, feminist thealogy, Goddess, nature, poems, spirituality, theapoetics, woodspriestess
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Woodspriestess: Bloodtime
Bloodtime
moontime
dreamtime
womb time
rest time.Pause
stop
celebrate
consecrate
honor
breathe
feel…touch
with potential and promise
sing with the planet
dance with desire
hold your wishes close to your heart
incubate them lovinglygather up your resources
gather in yourself
cocooning
safe, held and lovedbuilding power
holding power
collecting body wisdom
listening deeplydraw it to you
hold it closeemerge with strength
clarity
purpose
energy
and renewal.
This is a time of powerful medicine if you remember to listen. 
Soft belly
no longer bearing children
I am pregnant with myself
ripe with potential,
possibility, power
I incubate my dreams
and give birth to my vision.
It is so hot and humid lately that I’m finding it challenging to fully enjoy my time in the woods. I feel slow, dull, draggy, like my brain is foggy and hot. I’m tired. Today I sat on the rocks listening to bugs and birds, watching ants and a little winged creature sit on my foot. I closed my eyes. I took some deep, thick-aired, humid breaths and I thought:
I cradle my own body here on sacred ground.
Celebrating all that she has brought forward into this world.
Pausing to honor the patient creativity of my womb,
the pulse of my blood,
and the rhythms of my life.
Thank you
holy one
thank you
sacred space within
thank you
hopeful spirit
thank you
embracing Goddess
of my heart and planet…
Categories: blessings, embodiment, moontime, nature, poems, spirituality, theapoetics, woodspriestess
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Woodspriestess: Ball Ring
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
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Saturday Sabbath: Summer Solstice Redux
Summer solstice
Look at what’s blooming
see what you’ve said yes to
and look carefully for that
which can now be pruned away.The bounty is before us
we see it clearly
knowing that what we have sown
has borne fruit.Noting that which is
beautiful and good
and that which has
withered in the heat.Life is open before us
spreading its petals
dripping with juiceSweet, simple
infinitely complex
and magnificent.(6/21/13)
Last night, after picking five more pounds of wild black raspberries, I went down to the woods at dusk and found I did have a couple of more summer solstice words in me. I also worked on my content for my first post as a blogger for SageWoman magazine. I’ve been feeling really stalled out on it—like I’m afraid I can’t write something “good enough” and so I asked the woods for help. Luckily, they answered!
I’m excited to be featured in this month’s Full Moon Share from Paola at Goddess Spiral Health Coaching and I just barely finished some new goddess sculptures to add to my etsy shop in time for the Full Moon Share tomorrow!
In keeping with this time of seasonal change, I made my first ever set of goddesses depicting the four seasons!
I like them all, but my favorite is the Summer Goddess.
I made just a few more as well, including a butterfly goddess as a special request for someone who is grieving.
And, today my husband briefly took our toddler out in a kayak for the first time while we were at our friend’s house for a work party!
Speaking of our work party, while there, we worked what felt like way too hard on scheduling several ceremonies and celebrations for the coming months—two blessingways, a summer retreat, a fall retreat + coming of age ritual, and of course, our ongoing series of Rise Up and Call Her Name classes. I struggled to fit it all in, but realized that this is what I want to do. I came back to the words I wrote last night and thought, this is what I’ve said yes to and it is bearing fruit. And, I like it. 🙂
Categories: art, friends, Goddess, nature, poems, spirituality, theapoetics, woodspriestess
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Woodspriestess: Summer Solstice
Hot nature.
Humid thickness
of life
breath
and passion.Sticky spirit
melting senses
sleepy mind
moving through
watery air.Mosquitoes whine
ticks lurk
Summer is here.She’s heavy
weighty
watery
thick
green.Summer has come to the woods
Summer has bitten my thigh
Summer whines in my ear
Summer waits
for my ideas to bear fruit
rich, juicy, sweet.(6/11/13)
The Summer Solstice issue of The Oracle is out and contains a slightly revised version of my Womanenergy post:
Womenergy moved humanity across continents, birthed civilization, invented agriculture, conceived of art and writing, pottery, sculpture, and drumming, painted cave walls, raised sacred stones and built Goddess temples. It rises anew during ritual, sacred song, and drumming together. It says She Is Here. I Am Here. You Are Here and We Can Do This. It speaks through women’s hands, bodies, and heartsongs. Felt in hope, in tears, in blood, and in triumph.
Womenergy is the chain of the generations, the “red thread” that binds us womb to womb across time and space to the women who have come before and those who will come after. Spinning stories, memories, and bodies, it is that force which unfolds the body of humanity from single cells, to spiraled souls, and pushes them forth into the waiting world.
And, I was touched by this post and its Call:
Along the way, you will meet up with sisters who have answered their own calls. After years of trudging alone to the single note of our own call, we begin to sense first, then to see their dirt-smudged, tear-streaked faces. Their scars look comfortingly similar to our own. We are a ragtag tribe of outcasts, moon howling, spiritual homesteaders. The notes of our own call begin to merge and blend, and we become a symphony of stragglers, circling in sacred ritual- we are never truly alone. Our wounds are treasure maps tracing our stories back to the moment we said no, enough, no more, now, this time, my time. They bind us, these wounds, these calls, one to another on this dark wooded path.
To answer The Call is to choose a life outside what anyone else deems worthy, understandable, logical. We are heralded by some as over-emotional, ridiculous, dramatic, eccentric, strange, weird, unnatural. Others like us will recognize themselves in our journey, our
words, our artwork, our altars, our homegrown vegetables and homespun clothes. They will feel they are home when they smell lavender at our neck and see sage on our tables.
Our legacy is red, and burns with a passion we cannot contain so that it seeps out and stains our daughters and sons, marking them for a new way of life that emerges- because we were brave enough to answer a Call.
via Her Strange Angels: Call to the Wild Wood ~ A Blessing for the Solstice.
And, I was super psyched to get two new books free on Kindle this weekend:
From Lisa Micheals:
And from Rachael of the Moontimes blog!
I also appreciated this timely reminder from Chrysalis Woman:
It’s now that we Celebrate the womanifestation of the seed dream/s we conceived at Winter Solstice. Much like the Mother Mysteries associated with this time, we are giving our full attention, time and creativity to nurturing, sustaining and protecting our dreams, while reveling in the abundance of all that we are the creatrix of.
With all of this heightened activity and energy, we may find ourselves bumping up against the shadow of the Mother Archetype. With the full activation of our Fire energy that Summer Solstice generates, we can experience “burn out” by over-giving, over-nurturing, over-protecting, and/or over-doing. So remember to “Mother yourself” as you are caring for your creations. Seek out and create support systems that sustain YOU, as you work to sustain your hopes, dreams and all that you love.via Shine Your Light! – Chrysalis Woman – Returning to the Mother and Each Other.
I feel like I’m in one of these stages right now and working it through.
I’m still working on our own simple family ritual for summer solstice. It will involve many drums! 🙂
—
P.S. I have a good friend named Summer and I had to smile as I transcribed my “Summer” poem, because I imagined her biting my thigh and whining in my ear! (Really, it was a mosquito!) ;-D
Categories: holidays, nature, poems, resources, spirituality, theapoetics, womanspirit, woodspriestess, writing
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Woodspriestess: Raspberry Warrior
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 raspberryMay 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
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Sunday Sabbath: Rest
Surprise milkweed bloomed and looks gorgeous! (and yes, is almost never without a butterfly atop)
Clear your mind
rest your body
still your chatter
become fluid…Opening to breeze
birdsong
to the richness
of solitudethe messages
from butterfly wingsshadows making patterns
across rock.Hold your place
hold steady
and watch the swirling change
around you
unfold
in hopeful majesty
and exuberant life.Be still
let everything else fall away
let your body melt into rock
held by the arms of the earth
and spin through distant galaxies
with invisible
silent
magical
grace.
I’ve been out of town this weekend and with no opportunities to blog, though the thoughts of things to blog about continue to arise and I have a backlog of both pictures and recordings to get to, “someday.” Rest has been on my mind though as I gave a presentation about Moontime and honoring our menstrual cycles at the conference today, even though I’m actually at the most energetic and productive point in my own cycle. The “rest” poem above arrived as I was preparing for my presentation and packing for this trip, so it feels appropriate to post today.
As I shared during my presentation:
“…Could it be that women who get wild with rage do so because they are deeply deprived of quiet and alone time, in which to recharge and renew themselves?
Isn’t PMS a wise mechanism designed to remind us of the deep need to withdraw from everyday demands to the serenity of our inner wilderness? Wouldn’t it follow, then, that in the absence of quiet, sacred spaces to withdraw to while we bleed — women express their deprivation with wild or raging behaviors?…” –DeAnna L’am via Occupy Menstruation
The essay I finished writing while at Pismo Beach was up on Feminism and Religion earlier in the week. I struggled in the writing of it because I was in a different head space, not to mention literally in a different space, while trying to work on it. I felt distant, distracted, scattered, and unfocused while I was writing it and worried that that was what would come through. Instead, it became a cohesive piece that “flows really well,” according to the editor. Reading it now, it feels like someone else wrote it—I guess I did manage to get into the writing-zone after all, even with my mind being preoccupied with a different place, different subjects and different people…
In the aftermath of giving birth, particularly without medication, many women describe a sense of expansive oneness—with other women, with the earth, with the cycles and rhythms of life. People who become shamans, usually do so after events involving challenge and stress in which the shaman must navigate tough obstacles and confront fears. What is a laboring woman, but the original shaman—a “shemama” as Leslene della Madre would say —as she works through her fears and passes through them, emerging with strength.
[Monica Sjoo describes] the homebirth of her second son was her, “first initiation into the Goddess…even though at that time I didn’t consciously know of Her…”
via Birth as a Shamanic Experience by Molly Remer | Feminism and Religion.
This week I also put up a post on Pagan Families that was modified from my introductory post on this blog and I’m pleased to welcome new subscribers who found me in this way:
In late December 2012, I decided to begin a year-long spiritual practice of “checking in” every day at the priestess rocks in my woods. I committed to spending at least a few minutes there every day, rain or sleet or shine, with children or without, and whether day or night throughout 2013. I also decided to take a daily picture. My idea was to really, really get to know this space deeply. To notice that which changes and evolves on a daily basis, to see what shares the space with me, to watch and listen and learn from and interact with the same patch of ground every day and see what I learn about it and about myself. I want to really come into a relationship with the land I live on, rather than remain caught up in my head and my ideas and also the sometimes-frantic feeling hum of every day life as a parent and teacher. When I went down to the woods to “listen” to this idea, I spoke a poem that included the word “woodspriestess,” and I thought…hmm. Maybe this is what I’m doing. As I planned, I started this practice on January first and have not yet missed a day, except while traveling (and, then I bring a small rock from the woods with me so that I can still “check in” with them). In March 2013, I decided to do a thirty-day experiment in which I made a daily post/picture about my “woodspriestess” experiences. It was a rich experience in many ways. (The daily practice will continue through 2013, even though I have not continued writing on a daily basis after the March experiment)…
via Small Sacred Places.
This daily time in the woods provides a regular, daily opportunity for me to rest, if only for a few moments, and it is so nourishing and feels vital to my very being. I’m not sure how I was getting along without it before!
At the river on Thursday.
Eyes open
ears open
heart open
mind open
spirit opento miraculous possibilities
of being…
Categories: blessings, introversion, moontime, nature, poems, sabbath, spirituality, theapoetics, woodspriestess, writing
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Woodspriestess: Body Prayer
My big rosebush is almost blooming!
I roam
sacred ground
my body is my altar
my temple.I cast a circle
with my breath
I touch the earth
with my fingers
I answer
to the fire of my spirit.My blood
pulses in time
with larger rhythms
past, present, future
connected
rooted
breathing.The reach of my fingers
my ritual
the song of my blood
my blessing
my electric mind
my offering.Breathing deep
stretching out
opening wide.My body is my altar
my body is my temple
my living presence on this earth
my prayer.Thank you.
I’m getting ready to start my Thealogy and Deasophy class at OSC and the text for the class is Melissa Raphael’s Thealogy and Embodiment. For the last two years, I’ve been planning to write my dissertation on a similar theme—focusing on Women’s Mysteries and a thealogy of embodiment, with a heavy emphasis on birth as a spiritual experience. After my woodspriestess experiment though, I my focus feels like it is shifting to writing about something to do with Ecopsychology and Theapoetics. This seems to make sense. However, I am still looking forward to digging into Raphael’s book!
(Later note: This poem became a part of my earth-based poetry book, Earthprayer.)
Categories: nature, OSC, poems, prayers, theapoetics, woodspriestess
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Altars, Energy, and Travel
I’m finishing up my Ritual and Liturgy class at OSC and the final assignment was to create an altar for a specific purpose. First, I had the idea of re-doing my existing living room altar to reflect new focus and intention for the remainder of the year, but I couldn’t really get going on it. I am preparing to leave on a trip though and feeling nervous and stressed about leaving home (and my woods!). Suddenly, yesterday afternoon, the purpose of the re-visioned altar came to me cleanly—I decided to create a safety, protection, and connection altar to ground me in my home space and companion travel altar to bring that connection and grounding with me on my travels. I felt a focusing of energy and intention as I engaged in this process. It was a very powerful experience.
I chose items for the main altar that represented travel, the purpose of travel, protection, connection, each family member, and several reminders to carry my own priestess spirit out into the world. In the travel altar, I placed corresponding items connected to the items on my home altar (for example–a shell from the beach we will be visiting is on each, as well as an item created by or representing each family member). The items and purposes are described in the captions in the following photo gallery (to enlarge any photo just click on it and a slideshow of all the pictures will open up from there).
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- My kitchen table altar. I haven’t blogged about it yet, but the center dish is a family “wheel of the year” idea I read about in a back issue of SageWoman magazine—basically, you add items to it throughout the year to represent your family’s year.
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- Kitchen corner altar.
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- Main living room altar as it was before this project.
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- My two altar cloths–both dyed by the same friend.
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- I added an earth paperweight and a labyrinth to represent travel and journey-taking.
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- Sheela Na Gig is a protective symbol. I also have one of my crocheted Goddess of Willendorfs from my mom, since she is going to be traveling also (and the mini one went in my mini altar).
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- My central Goddess of Willendorf has to stay. Also joining her are Hathor (Goddess for the Exhuasted!) and the Snake Prietess of Crete.
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- Objects for the travel altar wait close by.
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- Ring from Disney World and one of my usual rings are going to stay on the home altar.
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- Stone Willendorfs–one mini and one *really* mini!
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- Womanrunes in chalice: Rune of Journeys and Rune of Protection.
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- Assorted stones from past travels.
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- Picture of my grandma, for whom we are traveling in the first place, as well as family photo.
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- Large and mini priestess sculptures
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- Something from each member of my immediate family.
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- Finished altar. Crowded, but purposeful!
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- Mamoo was a traveler and she is here too!
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- I laid out the items for my mini altar on the floor. There is stone from the woods and my woodspriestess beads as well as mini versions or representations of things from the home altar space.
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- Tiny Willendorf hanging out on a womanrunes talisman.
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- All packed up!
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- The next day, I took both candles and my travel box down to the woods to bless them and “energeticallly” link everything together!
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- And, I suddenly felt inspired to give myself a new travel ring! The green stone reminds of both the woods and the stones in my sacred space—I carry sacred space within and a symbol on my finger 🙂
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- I added three beads made by my dad to the indoor altar as well, which connect to my woodspriestess beads (plus, it means my mom and dad are both represented on the home altar and in the travel altar, as are each member of my immediate family).
Today, I took my travel box altar and my two candles down to the woods. I lit both candles in the woodspace and then took one back up to the home altar, symbolically forging the link, the circle, between the two altars and the sacred woods. I returned to the woods, where I offered this blessing/prayer upon the travel altar:
These two altars are now blessed and consecrated by this holy woodspace. Witnessed by the air, the earth, the fire, the stones. The breath of my life, the water of my blood. They are energetically linked to each other and to the woods of my home. May they be strong. May they be connected. May they be protective. May they be joyous. May the draw rich gifts, long life, deep love, and great peace to us all. The link is made, it is energetically unbroken. Safe travels, protection, love, harmony, wisdom, guidance.
Remembering that we carry sacred space within, remembering that we carry holy truth within, remembering that our bodies themselves are an altar on this earth, and remembering that our lives each day are an offering. Remembering that we can cast a circle with the physical stuff of our own being.
Let this physical altar serve as a tangible reminder of that which we already carry within.
It is blessed and consecrated, it is witnessed, it is known. May it be so. Thank you. Blessed be.
Ritual and Liturgy is the twelfth class I’ve finished at OSC! I can hardly believe I actually manage to do this along with everything else. It has been a rich and deepening experience so far. I now have about fourteen classes and my dissertation remaining! It is doable after all 🙂
Categories: family, nature, OSC, prayers, ritual, spirituality, woodspriestess
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Womanrunes: The Two Triangles
Womanrunes: The Two Triangles. Rune of Focus. Analysis. Logic. Rationality.
When you draw this stone, the time has come to be decisive. To take action, to be assertive. To choose wisely, but to choose. Hone your senses, sharpen your awareness, laser in on that which cries out for your attention. Act with purpose, with determination, without apology. No excuses necessary. This is stone of clarity and understanding. A stone with clean edges and sharp vision.
You are safe and connected. You are free. Make your choice.
After recording about this stone, I stood on the rocks for several more moments and dialogued with the space itself. The conversation I had with myself, or with the woods, or with Gaia herself, feels too private or personal or possibly perceived-by-others as “silly” for me to share right now, but right in the middle of my words, I looked down and there was a snake on the leaves at the base of the rocks. I stopped talking and watched it. It moved off a little further through the trees and leaves and then looked back, right at me. And, it stayed there, motionless and watching me as I watched it, the entire time I continued speaking. I glanced down to shut off the recording and when I looked back up, it was gone without a trace. It felt like an almost mystical experience of communion.
Some more variations of color have joined the changing landscape of the forest. Purple and white! I couldn’t get a good picture of these, but I love them. So pretty.
Also, some new forms of white:
I also took yet another picture of the overlook itself so that I could set it as my desktop background while I’m gone.
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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: nature, Womanrunes, woodspriestess
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Womanrunes: The Pentacle
Womanrunes: The Pentacle. Rune of Protection. Holding. Maintaining. Sealing. Magic. Five Elements.
Earth, Air, Fire, Water, Spirit. Gather round, circle up. Call the circle, cast the circle, hold the space. It is time to call in the guardians, to ask for help, to protect yourself with the resources that surround you. Protection. Containment. Safe space. Guard it well, hold it close, create it within yourself and in the environment around you. A circle holds steady. Linked arms are hard to pass through, linked spirits are hard to break. Don’t be afraid to say no, to guard your energy, to guard your safe space within. When you call a circle, so to let it be guarded, from negative words, pessimistic proclamations, or hurtful stories about others. Serve as guardian to the terrain within your mind and spirit, as well as in your home, friendships, and circles. You carry protection and safety with you everywhere, whether you may call it up consciously or not, there is still a seal, a container, surrounding your own true self as well. Earth, Air, Water, Fire, Spirit. Invite them in. Invite them to dance. Revel in the magic of this mystical, containing union and hold it close to your heart. Guard it with your words, your actions, your thoughts, and your choices. We walk on holy ground. Every day is sacred.
5/16/2013
When I recorded the above interpretation a couple of days ago, I then sat in stillness for a while. Again…not sure why I keep doing this…I thought, “I guess I’m not going to see anything different today” and then as soon as I thought it, I saw something new. The woods do talk back to me and they had something to show me…more circles, right there in front of me!
Weird disease or cool message? I think both.
I know it is really some kind of weird “tar spot” fungus disease on the maple leaves, but I once again had that intense sense of symbiosis and of learning so much from this same place every day. I miss my daily “woodpriestess” writing practice. I think it brought something out of me that I needed and I miss it.
In another synchronistic moment, the reading in my Open Mind book for May 16th (the day I wrote the above) was this:
We are the trees of the earth
our roots stretching deep and strong,
the stone of the firmament,
sister to the stars
that gave birth to the soil.
–Alma Villanueva
—
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: nature, Womanrunes, woodspriestess
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Woodspriestess: Green Surprise
Looked dead to me, but wait…!
Small, glorious miracles surround.
Green leaves on supposed dead branches.
Life works so hard
is so beautiful.
Capable
of neverending transformation
surprising
the tiny observer
sitting at its feet.
The woods continue to offer new surprises and things to notice! I wonder if this really will keep up all year? They haven’t let me down yet and I’ve learned so much during the five months of my daily experiment so far. Today, it was the “dead” trees that I’ve been sad to see and have been mentally marking to cut down for firewood. Not so fast! Three of them actually have some leaves on some of their branches now. They’re obviously not fully healthy trees and definitely are on the decline, but they are not actually dead yet after all! 
And, the turtles are out! Spied this fellow on the driveway while taking my kids to visit my parents. He hissed at us, but we enjoyed making his acquaintance anyway. 🙂
Categories: nature, poems, woodspriestess
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Woodspriestess: Hydrangea
Bless this plant
that it may grow strong
that it may grow tall
that it may grow with courage and vitality.May it burst into full blossom
and remind us of the joy inherent
in life, relationships
and in sharing time with each other.May it draw up the richness of the earth
may it always have what it needs
may it be soaked with sweet rainfall
nourished by that which has gone before
and become an intricate part of the ecosystem
both taking in and giving out
receiving and giving
nourishing
and being nourished.May it remind us of the woman
in whose memory we plant it.A woman who was just as beautiful
as these flowers.A woman who gave us strong roots
and rich experiences.
Who stood firmly on the earth
under this same blue sky.A woman who grew,
who lived well
who shared and tended
and who blossomed fully
in a life that brightened
the world around her.May it be so blessed
may she be so blessed
may it be so.Wisdom from the green earth
strength from deep, dark places
blessings of the bright sky
soothing rain
swift winds
and a grateful breath
upon them both.
Today is May Day/Beltane and my mom came home with two blue hydrangea plants that she bought for us to plant on Mother’s Day as memorial plants for my grandma. I’m still in this place of depletion and overwhelm, compounded by the need to plan a major trip to California during this month—lots of reservations to arrange and details to figure out. But, I went ahead and toted my hydrangea down to the woods for a little while and offered it, and my grandma, the blessing above. I also spied some very pretty violets growing in the “weeds” near the house and I admired the lovely, storm-full-feeling clouds. I found a pretty rock with a vein of crystal in it that I’ve admired several times before, but left in its place in the woods. However, today I felt like it wanted to come back with me and have a new home by the hydrangea when we plant it.
As I’ve noted before, I remain amazed by the neverending capacity to notice something new in this same little section of forest. And, I also delight in the relationship with the space that I have formed there, so that my attention is precisely captured by those new things. See this tree?
Kind of far away, right? But, as I sat there talking into my recorder about hydrangeas, my attention was caught by something different at the fork of the trunk. It was kind of blobby line/bump and I thought: is that a skink with a missing tail? I walked down to look closer and sure enough, I had a new companion in the woodspace today:
I’m not only an observer in the forest, I am also that which is observed!
Categories: blessings, death, family, nature, prayers, readings, woodspriestess
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Woodspriestess: Chorus
Birdsong
Heartsong
Bees buzz
Mindbuzz
Flowers bloom
HopebloomInterconnected
in a deep
magical
dance of life.Tulip tree is still blooming!
Spinning souls into being,
unfurling leaves,
beating my heart
and that of
mouse
chicken
dolphin
elephant
monkey
panther…This animating force
that dances through the cosmos
speaking through our lips
hearing through our ears
touching our skin
creating through our hands
and bodies.The lifepulse
of reality.
The skeins
of time and mystery.Sage is sneaking up out of the weedy grasses.
This beat
this dance
this beautiful rhythm
I waltz with it
and I sing
in its chorus…(4/29/2013)
I’m feeling pretty beat. Wrung out. Exhausted. Tired. Strained. I still went down to the woods though and I still practiced yoga this afternoon. And, I’m still planning our women’s retreat for May 10th. These things should NOT be the first to go. I must uphold my commitment to these practices for my own well-being. Likewise with writing even this simple post—I “should” be doing something else, or should I? Doing this actually matters too.
At our craft workshop this last weekend, I lamented briefly to my husband that I hadn’t gotten everything done I’d hoped to do while there. Then, I noted that I had, in fact, finished reading two books, prepared for both of my college classes, graded 11 genograms and 4 papers, kept up with my online class (even though I had to drive up the road for the internet access), and made five new sculptures. And, oh yeah, I also ran a craft camp and took care of my three kids too. Perhaps I actually rock.
In addition, I published a brief post here and I woke from a nap humming with inspiration and wrote a blog post about Womenergy for my other blog:
…Womenergy moved humanity across continents, birthed civilization, invented agriculture, conceived of art and writing, pottery, sculpture, and drumming, painted cave walls, raised sacred stones and built Goddess temples. It rises anew during ritual, sacred song, and drumming together. It says She Is Here. I Am Here. You Are Here and We Can Do This. It speaks through women’s hands, bodies, and heartsongs. Felt in hope, in tears, in blood, and in triumph.
Here are some pictures of the sculptures I made while away:
VBAC “Hope” mama.
Cesarean “je donne” sculpture.
Mamapriestess made with every scrap of remaining clay.
Experimented unsuccessfully with some A’kuba style sculptures. While I was originally excited about the potential, I am not a fan!
The opening poem was from yesterday, this was mine from today (I was lying on my back on the rocks):
Hot sun
cool stonerestore me
body
mind
and soulstilling
nurturing
holding
nourishinggranting peace
grace
and harmony.Dog breath
on my face.
Surprise!
Categories: art, blessings, embodiment, nature, poems, spirituality, theapoetics, woodspriestess
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