Wednesday, February 25, 2009

The Dark Night of the Soul

All is hidden,
And nothing is at it seems.
Confusion seems to abide
Discomfort, my only choice.
Where has the light gone?
Where is my peace?
I wonder as I wander through the forest's gloom
Searching for a way out,
Looking for an answer...the Answer.
I seek to set a path, straight and narrow and am rewarded with cuts and scrapes on my already bloody legs.
I trip and I tangle, and struggle to stay upright.
I am led deeper and deeper into the darkness,
The sun is gone from sight.
My hands have become my eyes as I reach blindly in front of me.
I find the bark, the wrinkled skin of an Old Wizened One.
I caress her tall body and throw my arms around her crying.
"Oh help, do help!"
"Rest", she tells me, "Rest in my roots".
I allow myself to slowly sink to her base and find myself weeping.
Her own tears, as leaves, flutter down to me and comfort my weary being.
I lay my head on her breast and hear the heartbeat of my green Mother,
And I sleep.
I sleep the sleep of a babe in her mother's arms and am awakened with the song of the Morning Dove.
My eyes are heavy and swollen and struggle to open.
I look up and I smile.
She has not left me, she guarded me the night through.
"Rise, dear one and set yourself on your journey once again."
I hesitate to answer, wondering if I must and if I can.
"Why can I not stay here with you? Why can I not make my home at your feet?"
"Dear one, despair not, you will find me again, although perhaps by another name.
I may not appear the same, but know me you will.
I am the moss and the herb.
I am your song and your dance.
I am you and you are me.
You will hear my voice, you will feel my life and you will know my touch.
Do not fret the journey ahead and rely on no map, for there are none.
Simply quiet yourself and listen for the whisper of my heart.
Then you will not worry about the path, for there are many.
You will not worry about home, because you are here.
You will not despair and fear for I will be where ever you lay your head.
Partake of me and be enlivened once again."
I again shed tears.
I want to believe, but my faith was lost among the thorn bushes.
I want to trust, but my strength is gone.
Once again I lay at her roots, my tears watering them deeper and deeper.
Her tears mingle with mine and I am blanketed by them, resting once again.

Monday, February 23, 2009

I'm A Medicine Woman Too!

I just finished reading this wonderful book by Jesse Wolf Hardin of the Anima Center. It is a lovely true story about Rhiannon, Wolf's 8 year old daughter, and her wonderings and discovery of who she is. It is a richly illustrated book with beautiful pictures of herbs, flowers, plants and all different kinds of Medicine Women. Written with 3-12 year old children in mind, I can attest that this book enraptured me and spoke to my own soul. One fun feature is the 'Name that Herb' game at the end of the book. It tested my own skill and has encouraged me to look deeper into each one. I whole heartedly recommend this book to anyone who has a child, knows a child, or has a child's heart and eyes and loves to play among the flowers! You can purchase "I'm a Medicine Woman Too!" by clicking the hyper link.

Sunday, February 22, 2009

The Spiral

Always spinning
Never ending path
First to the center and then back outward again
Returning back to who I will become.

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Creativity and Colored Pencils

This past Monday I was off of work, (thanks to the remembrance of deceased Presidents), so my youngest daughter and I scampered off to B&N to look at books and have a coffee. While I was perusing all the stacks of books I wandered into the New Age section and found the '09 Llewellyn's Magical Almanac. It is much like the Farmer's Almanac but with a twist, if you will. I bought one several years ago and remembered I enjoyed the stories and other information in there, so I decided to purchase this year's with the hope of finding some inspiration or at least diversion. After peeking through it a bit I happened upon the last article titled, "Be Magical". I really enjoyed reading this piece very much. The author made an acronym out of the words, Be Magical, using each letter as a daily reminder and encouragement. I was inspired by the words and decided to make my own illustration of the words in the book and create a reminder of my own out of it. Here is my creation using my favorite drawing medium, fine tipped marker and colored pencils!

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Medicine Woman Course

After about a year of thought and searching I have finally decided to enroll in the Anima Center's Medicine Woman course. I am quiet excited and nervous about it. I have always desired to be a Wise Woman and according to Susun Weed, all women seem to have this "invisible thread of the Wise Woman Tradition" running through them. Like many before me, most of what I did was self educated. The only things I have had formal training and certification in is Usui Reiki, Level 2 and being a Doula, through CAPPA. The rest of my knowledge in healing, herbs, reflexology, crystals and oils, etc., has all been through my own reading, talking to others and experimentation. To be quite honest I suppose that is how it is done, through talking to others, particularly women and especially the grandmothers. But I also wanted some guidance and mentoring and believe this course is the answer for me.

I have many hopes concerning this journey. I hope to heal myself, to release that which constantly tried to bind me and embrace that which frees me. I hope to become more whole and more authentic to my own nature. I hope to help others to also accomplish this. I hope to learn how to bring this learning and teaching to the city to help others. I hope to learn more about the plant allies I have growing right here where I live. I hope to help my own family and I hope to do more to help the folks around me. I hope to be an influence on all around me to stop and open their eyes to the magic that is around them. I hope to open my own eyes and see it too.

Monday, February 16, 2009

The Three Legged Stool

Once I had three legged stool that held my entire universe. One leg was my religion and belief in the Creator I called G-d, the other was my mother, and the third was my children. It has been almost a year ago since the first leg was broken from my precious stool, the one that was my faith and belief. It seems almost ridiculous to tell you that the break was begun by one of my children, the third leg. They did not actually take it from me as much as inflict a severe break on it. How could they take something so precious as faith and belief from me when all my life no one could have done this to me you may wonder? I am not so sure myself. Perhaps I place too much value on this young one's opinion. Perhaps I was never so sure of my faith to begin with. I did try to hold on for a time afterward and refused to give up until...until the second leg was broken and removed from me, the leg that was my mother. She left me and this planet 10 months ago and the loss is irrevocably abysmal. This, I suppose, was the final blow to my wavering faith. I was and am still very angry. I was and still am haunted by dreams and tears. How could I feel so abandoned? How could I have reached this point in my life? There is much that has led me to this point. Now I feel like a lost child searching for home. My universe has tumbled and now I know not what to do, and thus I have been for almost a year. A year of loneliness and un-surety, of tears and sadness.

And what of the third leg you ask? Thankfully, I am most blessed among mothers and have the most amazing children that have come forth from my womb. They love and accept me, although I am sure they do not understand me. They respect and honor me and there is little if anything more I could or dare ask for from them. But alas, a one legged stool can hold naught of the universe I once cherished. They are most precious to me, but they need me in a far different capacity than they once did.

I once defined myself wholly as Mother and Daughter and those definitions have slipped through my fingers like sand. I must recreate and redefine who I am. If I fail to do this I feel I shall continue my journey on planet earth sleepwalking, even as the living dead.

I stand here in the darkness holding my broken stool and see naught of what lies ahead. Am I imagining a vioce that whispers, ahead? I too am as Pandora, broken and fearful, I am peering into my box, reaching in and searching for Hope.