“I believe that these circles of women around us weave invisible nets of love that carry us when we’re weak and sing with us when we’re strong.”
–SARK,Succulent Wild Woman
Seven years ago, a small postcard at the local Unitarian Universalist church caught my eye. It was for aCakes for the Queen of Heavenfacilitator training at Eliot Chapel in St. Louis. I registered for the training and went, driving alone into an unknown neighborhood. There, I circled in ceremony and sisterhood with women I’d never met, exploring an area that was new for me, and yet that felt so right and so familiar. I’d left my two young sons home for the day with my husband and it was the first time in what felt like a long time that I’d been on my own, as awomanand not someone’s mother. At the end of the day, each of us draped in beautiful fabric and sitting in a circle around a lovely altar covered with goddess art and symbols of personal empowerment, I looked around at the circle of women and Iknew: THIS is what else there is for me.
"Just as the acorn holds limitless oaks, the Self has limitless potential. Expanding, contracting, opening, closing, leaping, pausing, watching, knowing, asking questions…" --Womanrunes, The Rune of Self
To be a human being sitting on a rock, in the sun, feeling wind, breathing in and out, reaching. This very moment, this very experience, this very capacity to sit and see and wonder, is the soul of life.
Today is my grandma's birthday. She passed away two years ago after a short and brutal bout with aggressive pancreatic cancer. After she died, my mom and I spoke briefly about whether or not my grandma's spirit is still present with us. I’ve noticed I don’t really get the kinds of “messages” that other people seem to experience after the loss of someone important to them and my mom feels pretty certain that life is over when it is over.
Interdependence. This topic is often on my mind as we approach U.S. Independence Day. There is so much strength in interdependence or being in-dependence together.
According to one of my favorite Goddess scholars, Carol Christ, the central ethical vision of Goddess religion is that all beings are embedded in a web of interconnected relatedness. All beings are part of the web of life. Everything is in relation—indeed it is possible to have relationships with the sun, sky, wind, and rainbow, as well as to other people, animals, plants, and the Divine. Everything is interconnected and does not exist without connection, relationship. Connection is strength, not weakness, and it is central.
Too busy. Too buzzy. Not enough time. To do. To do. To do. Scramble. Hurry. Tight chest Tight breath Tight heart WAIT! Listen to Summer. Languid. Warm. Sweaty. Hot. Petals soften Juice drips Kissed by sunlight Bathed with rain Sweet stickiness. Passion. Summer is heavy. Hot and ready. Blooming and dripping. Unfolding. Becoming. Ripening. Sweet. Tangy. Biting. Feel it in the air. Greet it at sunset. Throw your arms around it. Dig in. Hang on. This is IT. Taste it. Hold it. Enfold it. Be it. Lick it. Know it. Be it. Embrace it. This is your life. This is your life. Do you love it?
Summer's bounty both sweet and spiky sun-kissed and thorny able to draw blood and to cause you to smile as you taste the juices of life.
I find it interesting to observe how the wheel of the year is reflected within my own mind and thought processes. In the late fall, I turn inward and feel like retreating and pulling away from commitments. In the winter, I incubate and make plans. In the spring, I emerge again and feel enthused with new ideas. In the summer, I start to make decisions about what to keep and what to prune away. I find that summer is a perfect time to see what is growing well and what needs to be yanked out by the roots.
…The spirit of adventure runs through my veins with the rich color of crushed raspberry
May it always run so free may it be blessed and may I be reminded of the courage and love shown in small, wild adventures.
June brings out the hunter in me. The mission: wild raspberries.* A friend once laughed to hear me describe picking raspberries as a "holy task," but it is. A task earthy, embodied, mundane, and miraculous at once.
Two of June's treasures each year for me are the roses and the raspberries. This week, I sweated and struggled and was scratched and stung, but I returned home once again with my bounty.