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Posted by on in Culture Blogs
Green Breath

In medieval art, the Green Man is frequently depicted (as here) exhaling vegetation.

I'd always taken this as a symbol of death—someday you'll be dead and plants will grow out of your mouth—but while reading a book about ancient Maya art, I realized that I was missing something important.

In Maya culture, nothing was more valuable than jade. Jade (being green and permanent) = life; when you live in a tropical rain forest, how not? In Classical Mayan art, nobles were frequently represented with a jade bead suspended in the air between their mouths and noses: the breath of life.

That's why the Green Man exhales vegetation: he's the giver of the breath of life. This, of course, is literally true: that incredible reciprocal arrangement that we Red-Bloods have with the Green-Bloods called the Oxygen Cycle.

If we take the Green Man/Green God as the collective embodiment of all the flora on Planet Earth—a reading utterly in consonance with Received Tradition—we may indeed say that from Him comes the Breath of Life.

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Nurture Yourself With Nature: Hygge Healing Tea

We might call it kitchen witchery and our Scandinavian friends could say it is how we “get hygge,” which means to get as cozy as humanly possible. This newly trendy lifestyle tradition from the frozen north is not just for lazing about, though we greatly appreciate that aspect; it is also a very healthy way of living with sauna sessions, lots of herbal food and drink but also community, which is an immunity booster on its own.  Tea is a mainstay if you want to be healthy and we feel sure wise women and hedge witches in Northern Europe were the first on the hygge bandwagon, So much of our knowledge about herbal teas and tinctures comes from them.  Herbal tea conjures a very powerful alchemy because when you drink it, you take the magic inside. For an ambrosial brew with the power to calm any storm, add a sliver of ginger root and a pinch each of echinacea and mint to a cup of hot black tea. Before you drink, pray:

 

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Posted by on in SageWoman Blogs

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Foxy Sunyata, Rainbow in the Void © Lindy Kehoe 2017 

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Posted by on in Culture Blogs
ONE TERM prezzy-DENT

There are three things I've learned never to discuss with people:

religion, politics, and the Great Pumpkin.


(Linus von Pelt)

 

You may remember the chant from the demos following the last presidential election here in the States:

 

NOT MY presi-DENT!

(clap-clap clap-clap-clap)

NOT MY presi-DENT!

(clap-clap clap-clap-clap)

 

As chants go, it's really pretty good: focused, succinct, a nice alternation of verbal and non-verbal, words and percussion. And it certainly beats Hey hey! Ho ho! — — has got to go!

Unfortunately, they were wrong. If you're an American, the Troll-in-Chief is your president.

But it doesn't have to stay that way.

So I'm choosing to look on that chant, not as a statement of fact, but as a prediction which we know—and may it be sooner rather than later—will eventually come true.

So, riffing off the old chant, here's the new one that I'll be chanting:

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Crystal Cures: How Your Wand Can Be a Meditation Tool

One of the most powerful benefits  you game from having a wand of your own is that is can focus and direct energy. And there are times when we all need that! I often experience “monkey mind” when my thoughts race around and this seems increasingly common, based on what I hear from friends and clients. For that reason, I have been creating more rituals and meditations to counteract a wandering mind, one of the woes if our overbusy world.

 

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Posted by on in SageWoman Blogs
Remaining Wild and Untamed

I’ve been sober for 16 years today and tomorrow is the sixth birthday of my firstborn child, the magical synchronicity of the timing of that birth never leave me, as each year for the past six now the focus has shifted from self to her.. I feel ridiculously blessed to have a family who have only known me as a sober wife and mother. The woman I have grown into is one that I am proud to be, my priestessing path is serious and real and a precious practice has grown around all that I offer the world as priestess. Being a wife is a challenging and fulfilling spiritual path and one that I longed for for many moons before meeting my Beloved. Motherhood has knocked my socks off, finally I found a space to put the depth of passion, devotion, loyalty and I'll-die-for-you offering that this scorpio soul always searched for. Life is sweet, it is content, it is peaceful for the most part, it is a warm little dream. And so, at 16 years sober, spiritually fit with a loving and full home I took notice when I felt a stirring within the pit of my stomach, a hungry, growling, dangerous, enlivening stir.

 
I sat with that growl and reflected upon my sobriety and upon the stories that I have heard other sober sisters and brothers share about a beast that some alcoholics claim still lives within them, a beast that always want to drink a beast that will always be there to tear their life down if they feed it. As I reflected upon this beast and felt into my own inner stirrings of wildness I began to hypothesize that perhaps there's no alcoholic beast thirsting for a drink within us sober recovering souls at all, perhaps this sensation, this wildness in my gut was really a thirst for wildness and perhaps this hunger and thirst isn't specific to alcoholics only. 
 
The world tries to tame the wildness out of us, I see it every day as people wrinkle their noses at my wild maiden's unconstrained expression of emotions, it tries to box us in, to conform us, to quiet us and to dull us. When I think about my years before sobriety I remember the wildness that reigned untamed, complete destruction was the guiding force of my life and there was a thrilling sense of liberation in the lack of utter caring about how I appeared, how I hurt myself, what I did and who knew that I was doing it, all that mattered in those years was my quest for complete and utter annihilation and in those destructive years nothing and no-one could box me in. That was the only taste of freedom that I knew. To this day I make no bones about the fact that destruction is wildness, yet my soul will not be tamed it seems and so with destruction being wildness I have often wondered, on days like today when I feel that hunger stir, if destruction is wild why am I longing for it? Are there other forms of wildness beyond destruction? Can destruction be channeled in a manner that serves through what it destroys rather than ruins all that it touches? Is freedom and wildness synonymous?
 
These questions are quests in and of themselves, at the core of this quest I believe is a universal need, we all need to be wild and free, we need to be in order to fully merge into our Source selves. The role of the priestess after all is to merge this human experience with the experience of divinity, perhaps reconnecting to my wild self is the bridge that meets human with divine and this is why my soul will not slumber and my thirst remains unquenched.
 
On my priestess path I have come to the conclusion that yes, destruction can serve, in fact, the Destroyer is an archetypal expression of the Goddess, one that I know intimately as a continuously transmuting scorpio soul. When called upon in sovereignty the Destroyer sweeps in and destroys all that does not serve, rather than being out of my mind unconscious, under the spell of chemicals that my human vessel cannot safely ingest and haphazardly wielding around destructive spells that harm me and all those that I come into contact with, now I can channel the Destroyer within me and direct that energy towards all that stands between my Source self and I. There is freedom in this kind of destruction as it ensures that this world does not wear to closely on me and this destructive force challenges me to evaluate all that I have attachments to. There are other forms of wildness I have found in these past 16 years as well, the wildness of love, the wildness of birth, the wildness of untouched nature, the wildness of authenticity, yes there are many forms of wildness that I have discovered in consciousness and now it is my duty to keep my wildness alive and thriving and to do so in a way that serves humanity rather than adds to it's destruction.
 
16 years of sobriety and 6 years of motherhood is challenging me to stay wild, to stay authentic and to remain free. There are no social constructs of domesticity, age or gender that will hold my spirit back, when I feel that growl from within the pit of my stomach I welcome it and feed it with a healthy dose of freedom as I call upon the Destroyer archetype that is a part of my Goddess self to burn my attachments away and return to the nature of who I am in the regions of consciousness that remain pure, untouched and uninfluenced by the 3D matrix I have chosen to dive into for the time being. 
 
I will not allow the constructs that the patriarchy attempts to weave box me in.
I will not allow my wild nature to be tamed.
I will not slumber into unconsciousness..
I will not allow words such as 'sobriety', 'marriage' or 'motherhood' to dull my spark, rather will they be initiatory frequencies that I expand from.
I will remain wild.
I will remain free.
I will remain untamed.
I will remain sovereign.
I will remain priestess.
 
While we are on this embodied journey together, I hope to run into you, sister, brother, running, soaring, diving deeply around the spiral wheel, free, unfettered and utterly wild.
 
Cheers to 16 years!
 
Grace Be With You,
Priestess of Grace,
Candise Soaring Butterfly 
 
 
Image taken from http://www.reikilorient.com/2017/03/le-sacre-feminin.html
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Posted by on in Culture Blogs
A Dog Named Yahweh

Back in the 80s, a friend was thinking about getting a new dog. She planned to name him Yahweh.

People, of course, name their pets for gods all the time. (Whether or not this is a good idea lies outside the parameters of this post.) Still, naming your dog Yahweh seems a little...well, let me at least say that I wouldn't do it. Do you really want to use someone that you love to even a score?

For this was the Reagan Era, and the Age of the Culture Wars. The danger of a full-blown theocracy in the US seemed like a very real possibility at the time. (The Kreesh-chun Reich certainly seemed to think so.) So you did what you could to strike a blow—even a symbolic one—against the theocrats and their triumphalist ways.

One can, of course, readily appreciate the idea's humorous potential.

"Yahweh bit me!"

“Bad Yahweh! Bad boy!”

“Yahweh really stinks; I'm afraid he needs another bath.”

“Oh no, Yahweh peed on the carpet again.”

Still, when it comes to Yahwehs, one has to admit that one—even one that only exists in people's heads—is bad enough.

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Recent Comments - Show all comments
  • Steven Posch
    Steven Posch says #
    I think of Romero's Dawn of the Dead, with the shopping mall zombies, the zombie Hare Krishna and the zombie nun among them. Satir
  • Anthony Gresham
    Anthony Gresham says #
    I remember the 80's too well. Ronald Reagan Antichrist, Nancy Reagan the Scarlet Woman, Milton Freedman the False Prophet. I had

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