Sacred Cells: Embodying the Feminine Divine

Every cell in our beautiful and amazing bodies contains the whirling wisdom of the universe. This is the journey of one witch remembering that, and celebrating the Feminine Divine in beings of all genders.

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Lizann Bassham

Lizann Bassham

Lizann Bassham is both an active Reclaiming Witch and an Ordained Christian Minister.  She is the founder and director of Front Porch Spirit, a collective of writers, musicians, artists, and performers using their creative gifts to craft and create community and educate around various social justice and cycle of life issues.  She is a regular columnist for SageWoman magazine, novelist, playwright, songwriter, and currently working on a poetry series and women’s journal entitled “In Praise of Aging.”  She lives in West Sonoma County in Northern California.  Once, quite by accident, she won a salsa dance contest in East L.A.  

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Crone Hands

They are my Grandmother’s hands, these hands I now see when I look at my own.  Her hands, those hands, lovely Crone hands, the hands my child eyes delighted to watch dancing through the air with a paint brush tipped with cobalt blue.  The hands my child self loved to feel dividing my long wild hair into six parts, three on each side, as she braided the strands into practical pigtails.  Her hands were rarely at rest, except when she sat with a cigarette in them (which yes, did finally kill her at 99).  I remember watching those hands catching and cleaning fish, making oatmeal for breakfast, chicken fried steak for dinner, dishing out vanilla ice cream and squeezing chocolate syrup on top for desert (those hands deftly fed her sweet tooth).

 

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More Kisses Please

The New Moon pulls me from sleep.  I come into consciousness to the sound of rain outside my bedroom window.  We are in a drought here in California and although it is two-thirty in the morning, I find my thirsty self wandering downstairs and out the back door to stand naked in the Dark Moon night, grateful for soft rain falling on my body.  I feel it touch me as it makes its way to The Earth.  It is not a hard rain, the softness of it are tiny kisses on my upturned face.  I kiss it back and delight in the moisture.  Everything around me does the same, tiny wet kisses for the thirsty dirt and parched roses.

 

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May You Be As Resilient As Fleas!

I’d like to blame it all on human caused climate change.  The ongoing drought in California, and the slightly higher temperatures, mean they never really had an interruption in their natural reproductive cycles.  But the truth is I’d also been pretty lax in vacuuming the carpets through the winter and spring.  One of the consequences of depression (part of the wiring of my brain) and other health issues I deal with, is that when I’m tired, simple tasks become overwhelming.  Adding a new, albeit wonderful, commitment to my work in November of 2013, put me just at the edge of tired more often than not.  So the new breeding cycles (now our regional norm) were happening inside my home ecosystem as well as outside.

 

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Recent Comments - Show all comments
  • Ted Czukor
    Ted Czukor says #
    Dear Lizann - If you haven't yet read this caring post by Tania Kindersley, I think it will give you some comfort. http://taniakin
  • Lizann Bassham
    Lizann Bassham says #
    Thank you Ted.
Witchcamp 2014:  All Comes from Love, all returns back to Love

It is dark and the waxing crescent moon is hidden in the night sky by the tops of the redwoods.  But I walk the path confidently, my bare feet know the way though I have only been to this place once.  I move in the dark toward the sound of drumming.  I am again at Reclaiming’s California Witchcamp with witches of all genders from many parts of the world.

 

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          Become aware of Yourself.  Know the infinite vastness of your formless being.  Feel your own presence everywhere, the smooth sameness of your divinity, your Holy Self.  Love Yourself for eons.

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        It is almost mid day in early April.  The gentle warmth of morning has given way to hot.  Earlier, as the sun rose, I danced barefoot.  Now I sit reading in the shade of my camper van, which is parked up Trail Canyon Road on an alluvial fan in Death Valley.  I will be in the shade, still as possible, until the hot day gives way to the gentler warmth of evening, when once again I will dance barefoot.

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Recent Comments - Show all comments
  • Lizann Bassham
    Lizann Bassham says #
    Oh Francesca, what a wonderful weave of wisdom your mosquito blog post is! Thank you for making the connection and offering me th
  • Francesca De Grandis
    Francesca De Grandis says #
    I am so glad you liked it. Thank you for reading it. I checked out the lovely post of yours you mentioned, and responded to it the
  • Lizann Bassham
    Lizann Bassham says #
    Thank you Francesca! Would love to read your "Mosquitos and other Gods" blog - is it still out there?
  • Francesca De Grandis
    Francesca De Grandis says #
    Thank you for asking, I'd be honored. It is also part of a Pantheist class I teach. Here is the link: http://stardrenched.com/201
  • Francesca De Grandis
    Francesca De Grandis says #
    Ah, we are kindred: I once wrote a blog about pantheism called "Mosquitos and other Gods." Thank you for your lyrical journey.

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On a Saturday in early March the seminary in Berkeley,  where I serve as Campus Pastor, was hosting a youth spiritual retreat for middle school, high school, and college age youth and young adults.  When the first group arrived that morning, I broke out the sidewalk chalk.  More youth and adults arrived from all over Northern California until the place was covered with humans of many colors, ages, and genders transforming the grey cement surfaces of benches and walkways into a vibrant and beautiful (if ephemeral) landscape of greens and pinks, purples and yellows.

 

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