SageWoman Blogs


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SageWoman Blogs

At SageWoman magazine, we believe that you are the Goddess, and we're devoted to celebrating your journey. We invite you to subscribe today and join our circle...

Here in the SageWoman section of PaganSquare, our bloggers represent the multi-faceted expressions of the Goddess, feminist, and women's spirituality movements.

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We are circling
circling together
joining hands and singing our heartsongs15241873_10211357352159540_1723198054005383828_n
this is family
this is unity
this is celebration
this is sacred...

(We are Circling)

The first candle on the Solstice Wreath is lit. The element of Air. Breath. Life. Hope. Clean air for everyone. Clear communication. Family harmony.

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b2ap3_thumbnail_dapl_overnight_clash_11-20-photog_clayton_thomas_muller-twitter.jpgWater cannons in sub-freezing weather. Prayers. Rubber Bullets. Devotion. Concussion grenades. Love. The Indigenous response to tyranny and violence today is what it has been since 1492: band together even more deeply, practice ancient traditions, speak truth to colonial power, and pray and pray and pray. No matter the problem, the answer is always Love and Remember the Stories of Who Indigenous People Are and How to Live Correctly on Mother Earth. b2ap3_thumbnail_image.gif

Since Monday, November 21, violence has escalated in Morton County, Cannon Ball, North Dakota where hundreds of protestors stand around-the-clock watch to prevent an oil pipeline from being dug. Greenpeace spokeswoman Mary Sweeters calls it "nothing short of horrific" and Sierra Club Executive Director Michael Brune calls what the militant police in riot gear are doing "act[s] of brutality" and "nothing short of life-threatening and inhumane." Meanwhile, top American government officials remain silent. Police are also stressed and under duress while their leaders make decisions that they are required to obey if they want to keep their jobs. Nevertheless, sacred objects are being confiscated and destroyed; the 528 people arrested are herded onto trucks that are little more than cages and then incarcerated in over-crowded cells--medical attention is not provided. These are Third-World country responses to peaceful protests--this is not supposed to happen in the United States. Above is a photograph by Rob Wilson published in Indian Country Today Media Network.

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b2ap3_thumbnail_November-2016-010.JPG"Imagine that at every moment we each embraced the world as the gift it is: an apple is a gift; the color pink is a gift; the blue sky is a gift, the scent of honeysuckle is a gift."

--Rabbi Marcia Prager

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b2ap3_thumbnail_index.jpgWith grief levels running deep in the United States and the world due to various global events, that now includes the recent American presidential election, some balm for our souls is needed.The American Thanksgiving holiday is two days away, yet many of us have heavy hearts. The true Thanksgiving story is a bleak part of our history that, this year, I will not repeat in my blog. Instead, let's take each others' hands now and be quiet together as we turn our minds to our origins.

The place for healing is always the stories of our people, whoever our ancestors are. Here on Turtle Island the original Story Keepers are Indigenous, and their stories infuse the land, waters, trees, rocks, and whole of life. The European settlers brought their stories here; stories that, if you go back far enough, are also filled with love of land. Though the stories of Turtle Island belong to Native Americans, all Americans can respect, learn from, and take solace in them.

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“We are daughters of our mothers
We are mothers of our daughters
We are sisters, we are lovers
We are friends and good grandmothers

We are women like a river
Flowing on and on forever…”

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We stood on a rock on the top of a ridge, forested hills and valleys on every side. It was past dusk and heavily overcast, though the full moon shone behind the clouds so they glowed faintly. The mists came in, blanketing out the further hills, filling the valleys. Five of us, and looking at the others, wrapped against the chill and dampness I thought I could be gazing at standing stones, not people, or druids from another time and place, or magicians gathered to create a spell. I could see only shades of grey and black.

We had gone to this particular place because it is in the North-East of our Circle, the direction of Beltaine in the southern hemisphere and that's the time of year it is, here. But the mists and the grey and the isolation - it could have been Samhain, it felt like a night between the worlds. Sometimes the opposite Festivals reach across the Wheel so strongly, holding hands at the hub of it that it's impossible not to see this open secret - whenever it is Samhain in half the world, in the other half it is Beltaine. The earth can never have one without the other, just as it can never have night without day, simultaneously. It's not just that the opposites both exist, but that they both exist at the same time. 

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